Already Dead

>You are looking rather dashing.

>As you examine yourself in the mirror you feel incredibly confident.

>Adjusting your blood red tie, happily moving your cuffs down, admiring the fine craftsmanship of the pitch black suit jacket and pants, and the contrasting stark white button shirt.

>You had ordered this magnificent suit a week back, and you still find yourself amazed over how something like this only took 8 hours to make.

>The best part, Rarity had made it for you free of charge.

>Good thing too, you need all the bits you can get for tonight.

>It is after all a big night, and no expense can be spared for her.

>Smiling to yourself you turn and make for the door.

>Before you hand can reach the doorknob the urge to cough rises in your chest.

>You bring the hand up to your mouth just as it happens, muffling the sound.

>Unfortunately you get a little something on your hand.

>You roll up your sleeves again, and turn on the faucets, that's when you notice something unexpected.

>What you thought is a bit of spittle, perhaps some phlegm is in fact mucusy blood.  

>Another cough comes, then another, building up in intensity until a final violent one causes you to grasp the sink for support.

>Blood, mucus and spit are splattered across the inside of the sink.

>You beg whatever big man that is in the sky to give you one night without this coming up.

>But maybe your luck had run out?

>It was hard enough concealing this for a month.

>Maybe tonight is the night you finally told her something is wrong.

>But you don't see her worried, fretting over you, you couldn't bear her being nervous, it is best to keep it to yourself.

>If only to keep her happy.

>A knock comes at the door, followed by the sweetest voice you've ever heard, "you okay? You sound sick. We don't have to go if you don't feel up to it."

>You quickly wipe your mouth, rinse your hands and pull your sleeves back down, swinging open the door in excitement.

>There she stands, two majestic purple eyes looking at you with concern.

>She looks beyond wondrous, despite not doing much to dress up for tonight.

>You smile, hoping to dissolve any doubts she may have.

>Unexpectedly you scoop her up, rushing down the flight of stairs to the door below.

>She never got used to you doing that, and always screamed like a filly on a coaster.

>But this only brought a grander smile to your face, and by the time you set her down and head out the door you've forgotten about your cough.

 

>"How did you even get a reservation here?" Twilight questions, nibbling at her dinner.

>You ignore that, wishing to keep it a secret, and go on enjoying your meal.

>"I'll find out eventually," she says.

"I'm sure you will. But don't bother with stuff like that, just have a nice time. I've got everything covered so you could relax."

>She looks at you a bit skeptically, but does relax as the night goes on.

>"So how are things at Rarity's boutique?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe fashion isn't my thing."

>"Thinking of going back to Sugarcube Corner?"

"No way man! Pinkie was crazy, she hops around the shop doing god knows what and boom now there's a cake in the oven."

>"What did you expect when working with Pinkie Diane Pie?"

"You make a good point," you say, motion your fork at her, "any breakthroughs in magic?"

>"Not really. But there is already so much to learn, so I'm not complaining."

"You're testing out long distance teleportation now, right?"

>"Yes, and it's going great."

"Really?"

>"Well, maybe not so great. I ended up in Manehattan yesterday, but progress is progress."

"What part of Manehattan?"

>"Somep0ny's bedroom."

"That couldn't have been awkward at all."

>You join her in a spurt of uncontainable laughter.

>But you stop abruptly, coughing violently, you can't seem to stop.

>You down your glass of water, to no avail.

>Thankfully you had kept your hands clean by using one of the cloth napkins on the table, you quickly examine it before coughing again.

>By the time the fit passes Twilight looks more than a little worried.

>"You are not okay. You should see a doctor."

"I'm fine, it happens to humans all the time," you say, trying to get her mind off the subject.

>"Yet I've never seen you do that once," her eyes flick to your folded over napkin.

>With relief you realize the bloody side is covered.

"Don't worry. If it makes you feel better I'll go see a doctor tomorrow, but today we won't talk about it. Tonight is about you."

>She gives in reluctantly.

>You try your best to distract and entertain her until dinner is over but it was difficult, especially considering the cold fingers of fear and doubt were tickling your spine and churning your stomach.

 

>It's late now, but a few ponies remained on the road, trotting about and doing whatever.

>You start walking Twilight home, but switch paths at the last second, much to her protest.

>You are assaulted with queries and threats.

>"Where are we going? Why are we headed toward the fields? If you don't say something I'm walking home. That's it, I'm headed home."

>But she isn't, she is right behind you, lagging a few paces behind as you led her to the open field.

>It was empty save for a single dark caravan in the distance.

>"What's that?"

>You don't respond, picking her up once more.

>She moans about how she doesn't like it when you did that, but she snuggles close to your chest anyway as you carry her toward the caravan.

>Trixie tips her head at you and gets on the stage she set up.

>You plant Twilight on a small blanket.

>"Trixie?" she mutters to you, just now seeing the blue unicorn making the final preparations for the show.

"No. The Great and Powerful Trixie."

>"It is I simpletons, The GREAT AND POWERFUL TRIXIE!"

>The show was amazing, and although Trixie boasted many times you were certain it was just an act.

>Not surprisingly Twilight had a great time, you enjoyed yourself as well but more so because she was having a good time.

>Better yet you didn't cough once.

>The show ends as almost too quick and Trixie bids both of you adieu.

>You wave a thank you to Trixie, and she returns with a quick nod.

>The walk home is filled with laughter and smiles, so much so that your face hurts a little by the time you get back to the library.

>She heads to bed, and you go to wash up again, returning to find her curled up in ball over the sheets.

>Looks like she didn't make it very far before falling asleep.

>You debate heading to your room, or joining her.

>With no quilt to cover her, what would keep her warm? you reason, wrapping yourself around her.

>You see her ears perk up as you do so, but she made no motion to stop you.

>You drift to sleep easily enough, face buried in soft purple fur.

 

 

>You wake up with a yawn and a smile.

>It's good to be alive.

>Looking around the bedroom you just now notice the bed is cold and empty.

>Where's Twilight gotten too?

>You dress yourself and head down the stairs looking for her.

>The lovely smell of cooking food and the smiling face of Twilight greets you at the kitchen.

"Is that french toast?"

>"Yup," she says cheerily, using her magic to place a plate of the warm foodstuff on the kitchen table.

>You slide into your seat, helping yourself to some, she follows suit with a smile.

>But almost immediately it's gone.

>"I got you an appointment with the doctor this morning."

>Your face grows tight with annoyance and some nervousness.

"I'm fine Twilight, a little cough doesn't warrant a doctor's visit," you say sternly.

>The room falls awkwardly silent.

>Who are you fooling?

>This cough is no small matter, and could be something serious.

>It's time to spot ignoring the signs.

>You scrunch up your face and sigh.

"What time am I set to go?"

>"Ten thirty exactly."

>You glance at your watch, it's a quarter after nine.

>"We still have plenty of time to get ready, I think."

"We?" you let out a quick false laugh, "No way, I'll be going alone."

>"Why?" she asks with a spot of anger.

"Because you have all that studying to catch up on," you say with a smile.

>And because you didn't want her to know what you had.

>Just in case it really is bad.

>But it's probably nothing, some minor infection perhaps.

>You gulp harshly and finish your breakfast before retreating upstairs to get ready.

 

>With no small amount of nervousness you give Twilight a kiss and you're out the door.

>You walk with worry weighing you down, smiling awkwardly and nodding to friends on the road.

>Quicker than you intended you arrive at the hospital, it's glass doors looking frightening, fierce, and absurdly large.

>With a sharp, uncomfortable - and slightly painful - intake of breath you enter.

>The receptionist recognizes you immediately, and in no more than a minute or two you're in an room, waiting in a chair for the doctor to enter.

>After a few minutes more a shaky, young stallion walks in, readjusting his white coat he sets down a clipboard.

>"Hey there," he checks his board, "A-anonymous?"

"Hello."

>"Can't say I've had anyp0ny like you come in," he laughs awkwardly.

>Is this really someone you want diagnosing you?

"Yes, well I hope you can help me despite that. I've been have a few strange problems lately."

>He nods, prompting you to continue.

>You explain your condition, the hemoptysis, shortness of breath, fatigue and trouble breathing.

>The doctor says nothing, but as you go on his half glad, half jittery expression shifts to one of dread and concern.

>"I- I well, I've never had anyp0ny come in with something like that. In fact I don't believe I've ever heard of all those symptoms popping up at the same time."

>He scratches the back of his mane.

"What is that suppose to mean? What are you saying?"

>Fear clogs your thoughts, you become slightly panicked.

>"It means I don't know. You need to be examined by somep0nyelse, m-maybe on of those fancy doctors in Canterlot?"

>You raise from your seat.

"Fancy doctors? You're a doctor, you should have some idea what this is. This could be life threatening, I could be dying!" you shout, immediately recoiling from your sudden outburst.

>He takes a step back, toward the door, "I just don't know I'm sorry!"

>You snort and storm out, feeling shaky from all sorts of clashing emotion.

>You need some fresh air, some time to think about this.

 

>Fifteen minutes of walking takes you nowhere, you find yourself in some backstreet market.

>Shady, gruff looking merchants eye you from their stalls.

>You shake your head, rushing to get back to someplace you're familiar with.

>There is no way you can go home.

>You just can't face her right now, not when you're confused and scared.

>She would be looking for you to tell her it's all fine.

>But you just can't do that right now.

>While wandering down the streets of Ponyville you notice your hand shaking.

>You can't lie to yourself, no trying to lull the fear rising up in your hurting chest this time.

>Somehow, you know this isn't a minor problem.

>Something serious is going on, and as much as you don't want to admit it, this could be your death sentence.

>Your breathing becomes rapid as you worry yourself with silly thoughts.

>This could very well be one of your last few days.

>Your life seems so small now, so insignificant.

>Stupid whims return to you from long ago, all the thing you forgot to do, or never did.

>You won't have much more time to do them now.

>A bird flutters by, chirping, landing on a branch across the street.

>You've never really taken a second to admire that-

>A pony bumps into you, a mare with a ton of bags.

>She stumbles down the lane, going to where you just were, laughing and yelling some half-hearted apology.

>You nod and smile, not even paying attention.

 

>You wind your way to the carousel boutique without even thinking.

>With a harsh swallow you knock on the door.

>Why are you even here?

>Rarity is probably busy, she doesn't have time for your shit.

>You turn away from the door as soon as it opens.

>"Hello, darling. Uh, you know you off today right."

"Yeah, I-I just thought I'd stop by."

>"Well, don't just stand there, come in," she says with a grin, disappearing inside and leaving the door open.

>You slip in, shutting the door behind you.

>Sweetie Belle bounces by, smiling to you before darting into her room.

>It's quiet in the house, the windows are open, letting in fresh morning air.

>Why does this sort of weather make you so shaky?

>Rarity sets down a cup of tea for you at the small, cluttered kitchen table.

>Newspapers, fabric and sewing tools cover the entire round wooden thing save for two small spaces, each just big enough for a plant.

>Rarity sits on one side, half obscured by a sewing machine.

>You plop down across from her roughly, blowing on your hot drink.

"Thanks," you comment softly.

>"Oh no need for that. How have you been keeping?"

"Well, mostly."

>"Did it go well?" she says, taking a sip of tea.

"Huh?"

>"The dinner, the big special night that you said would be "the most important" date in your life," she ends with a brief chuckle.

"Oh! It went fine, great I mean. It was really great."

>"You sure?" she smiles, trying to make you feel comfortable, or maybe she is just trying to coax the truth out.

"Yes, sorry I've got a lot on my mind. I, I don't even know why I came here. I'm sorry to bother you," you stand and begin to walk away, "thanks for the tea, I should go."

>She dashes to the door before you can reach it.

>"Please, it's no trouble. Stay awhile I think you need a second to relax," she isn't going to let up.

>You inch back to your seat, your skin crawling.

>But not because of Rarity, not because of the hot tea that burnt your tongue, or Sweetie Belle spying on you from behind a wall.

>Something else is sending shivers down your spine.

>Oh, what is going on?

>You've worked yourself into a tizzy over a small chance.