>You are jarred from your stupor by a shriek of terror.
>Delicious, delicious terror.
>Much more enjoyable if it wasn't coming from a certain white mare in the next room.
>Before you comprehend what is happening, you are already in her room, throwing scythe at the ready.
>Rarity is on her bed, clutching a blanket in her hooves (wat), rocking back and forth.
>You leave your scythe on the floor outside her room, and walk in.
>She continues rocking and sobbing.
>You sit down besides her and look at the blankets instead of her.
>Damn how you wish you didn't have a terrifying visage at this exact moment.
>Oh well, can't change your appearances, unless you want to die via flower poisoning.
>She didn't know that interesting fact though. She only knew that you were a human, then when you ran away, you came back as a scarecrow.
>You didn't lie to her.
>You did't need to.
>When you 2 were working on clothier related things, she brought it up to you, and you told her it would be best for her if she dropped the subject.
>When a six and a half foot tall scarecrow tells you to drop the subject, it's best to drop the subject.
 
>She is still sobbing into her blanket.
>You gently run your burlap hand down her mane
>You know how soft that purple twirly thing is, but you can't feel anything.
>The urge to ask her what happened is overpowered by your realization that hearing your scratchy voice would not be the best thing for her psychologically.
>So you simply sit there and pet her mane.
>Brushie brushie.
>She releases the blanket from her vice grip, and relaxes a bit, leaning against your burlap body.
>”I...” she starts to speak, then stops.
>You look at her incredulously (not that she would know what your expression is.), and poke her side gently. This elicits a small giggle.
>”I'm sorry for waking you. I shouldn't ha-” She is interrupted by your finger in front of her lips.
>You let out a closed mouth smile, and pet her mane again.
 
>Well look at how far you have fallen, Fiddlesticks.
>What do you mean brain?
>You're becoming weak.
>Weak?
>Did I stutter?
>How is having someone to protect and care for being weak? In fact, I would say this gives me strength to fight off the monster within.
>You are only going to end up hurt, Fid. And by then you'll be too weak to do anything about it.
>...
>I'll let you think about what I said.
>Rarity has fallen asleep again at this point.
>Gently letting her off of you, you walk back to your room.
>You lay back onto the bed, and welcome the stupor with open arms.
 
>This has been happening for a week.
>Pretty routine daytimes. Wake up, help her sew. Walk around the town, nothing special.
>Then the night comes.
>That unfortunately has become routine as well.
>Wake up to her terrified screams, silently comfort her until she falls back to sleep.
>The dog attack at her home have affected her more than she lets on.
>It's morning.
>You hear things sizzling in the kitchen area.
>Rarity is probably making breakfast for her and Sweetie Belle
>Damn, you didn't get to taste anything during your time as a human
>Not true, you tasted your blood when you got stabbed in the chest
>True. Do all things taste like that, Brain?
>God, I hope not.
>You exit the room, grabbing your scythe on the way to the kitchen.
>To your surprise, it's just Rarity.
>She is magically holding a spoon, stirring the contents of a pot.
>”Good morning Fiddle. How are you feeling?” Her eyes betray her smile.
>You give her a thumbs up.
>Her expression is a quizzical one.
>P0nys don't have thumbs, dolt.
>Right.
>”I'm fine” You rasp.
>”That's good, dear. That's... good...” She stares into the void that is the wall in front of the stove.
>Silence falls.
>”Uh... Rarity?
>”Hmm?” She absentmindedly responds, still staring at the wall
>You need to change subjects, and fast.
>”What are you making?”
>”Pudding...”
>”Pudding?” You cock your head to the right
>”Yeah. Pudding.” she continues to stir the pot while staring at the wall.
>”Isn't pudding usually reserved for dessert? Why are you making it for breakfast?”
>”Because I have lost control of my fears.”
 
>Oh shit.
>Shit shit shit shit.
>You caused this.
>You did this to her.
>You were unable to complete the fear spell, and you left her deepest, darkest fear in the front of her mind.
>Just out of sight, but always lingering.
>You know there's only one solution.
>It's your turn to stare into that void of a wall.
>Seriously, that wall is getting some major screen time.
>”Fiddle? Are you alright? You've been standing there for-”
>”I'm sorry.” you cut her off
>”Fiddle, we've been over this, you didn't do anything, you just scared me a little.” Her genuine apology only sickens you more.
>You have to let her know what you really did, but that might mean she would hate you.
>So the dilemma is set. Do you let her suffer every night, not truly knowing what is going on, but still keep a friend?
>Or do you make her suffer the worst possible thing she could ever suffer?
 
>Ok Fiddlesticks, just like a band-aid
>Right...
>What's a band-aid?
>”Rarity, there's something you need to know.”
>”What is it, darling?”
>How you wish she would stop calling you darling.
>”I know why you fear.” you're trying to sound as non-cryptic as possible.
>You're failing.
>”I don't understand...”
>”That night when I attacked you, you were terrified beyond anything you've experienced before, correct?”
>She shudders at the memory.
>”I don't want to do this, but this is the only way you will be free of the nightmares.” you look into her eyes.
>She is trembling slightly
>”Wha...what are you going to do?”Her voice is shaking
>”I am going to finish that spell. It will terrify you tenfold from that night, but I will make sure you recover”
>”And... this will stop the dreams?”
>Hopefully. You honestly have no clue if it will.
>”Yeah, I'm sure it will.”
>Add that to the list, brain.
>Add what?
>This is the first time I've lied to someone.
>Noted.
 
>You lean your head into the creativity room.
>”Ok, Rarity, are you ready?”
>”Not really, but can you really be prepared for such an uncouth experience?” she chuckles nervously.
>”I'm sorry, but it has to be this way,.” you kneel down, and look into her eyes.
>Those big, pretty blue eyes.
>You gently caress her mane, and begin your work.
>You look deep into her eyes, beyond her conscious thoughts, beyond her soul.
>Her mind is a bright place, clean and organized, very similar to her home.
>And just like her home, there is a room that is closed off, hidden from the rest of the world.
>You crack open the door, and look into the room.
>You see a desk with papers on it, along with photos of some stallion you haven't seen before.
>Many of the papers say “Defaulted” “Eviction” and “Final Notice”
>There are also several gems on the table.
>You bend over the desk and look into it a photograph that lies on the rest..
>The photo flashes bright, engulfing the room in its light.
>The room from before is gone, replaced by Rarity's bedroom.
>On her bed, you see a shivering Rarity, slumped over the form of another p0ny.
>She is muttering “I couldn't have you tell anyone. No one must know.” over and over.
>You see the familiar scarlet liquid running down the bed, dripping on the ground.
>It took you a moment, but you notice the knife in Rarity's grip, and the cut on the p0ny's throat.
>The liquid begins to vibrate, and your vision is washed in a red light this time.
 
>You are now outside.
>Its raining, and everyp0ny is wearing black
>There is a p0ny speaking behind a podium, with a black dressed Rarity beside a coffin.
>Ah, a funeral.
>Her figure is not as thin as it normally is, and that tight black dress is doing nothing to hide the fact she has put on a few pounds.
>There is an unnatural darkness emanating from where she is standing, permeating the air and the ground around her.
>The shadow suddenly expands, clouding your vision in darkness.
>After a moment, you hear the cry of a young filly.
>Very young.
>You turn towards the source of the sound, and see a very tiny Sweetie Belle being cradled by Rarity.
>”Mommy will always be here for you Sweetie. Daddy can't be here, but Mommy will always be here.”
>There are tears in her eyes when she says this.
>Ah, there it is.
>Rarity was Sweetie's Mommy, this much is true. But Mommy made sure that Daddy couldn't be there too.
>A product of love wouldn't make her commit an act so dire. She slept with a stallion to pay for her selfish desires.
>When he threatened to inform everyp0ny of the terrible act she decided to commit, She wooed him into her room, and after a kiss, his throat was slit.
 
 
>You snap back to reality, staring into her eyes still.
>This mare. You trusted her, and she did this?
>Is your trust misplaced?
>She simply looks at you for a moment, unable to tell your reaction.
>Permanent poker-face and all that.
>”What did you see, Fiddle?”
>Does... does she not know what you saw?
>You didn't bring her projected self to the dream-state, so no, she didn’t know.
>You look into her eyes for a moment, then lean forward.
>You speak in a hushed, almost whispering tone into her ear.
>Her blood runs cold when she hears what you say.
>A shiver runs down her spine, and her pupils become the size of pinpricks.
<”Wha... what did you-” she stammers. All pretenses of elegance were gone now.
>This is a reaction of pure fear. And you didn't say but 4 words to her.
>”I know your secret.”
 
>”H-...How...” Looking at the ground, her eyes begin to water.
>After a second of staring, her brow furrows.
>”So you know my secret.” The tears are still there, but her voice is cold and calculated.
>*nod*
>”I have done my best to hide it. But all secrets are revealed at some point, I guess.” she looks back up to you.
>”I guess it isn’t long before my sins are exposed.”
>You simply continue to stare at her.
>”I didn't know I was pregnant when I did it.”
>”But why pose as her sister?”
>”I don't know how things go where you hail from, but here in Equestria, single mothers are the lowest of the low. The children are treated as less than p0ny.”
>”What I did was absolutely terrible and unforgivable, but Sweetie belle does not have to suffer for the sins of her mother.”
>She is looking down again, sobbing.
>You gently grab her chin, and lift her head up to look at you.
>”You have shown me you are not a monster. You care about others before yourself. Your secret is safe with me.”
>She lets out a small smile, one that would warm your heart if you had one.
>”Thank you, Fid. Thank you.”
>You get a feeling that tonight the routine is going to be broken.