Last moments


                                            A short vignette about an agonizing idea that's been worming its way through my brain for months now.

                                            >You draw in a slight, wheezing breath and exhale it with great pain

                                            >An IV bag hangs over your pet bed, your collar hangs limply at your neck like an amulet so as not to obstruct your labored breathing

                                            >Your loving master of fifteen years, closest confidant, and dearest friend; Sam, sits at your side and softly pets your back

                                            >It's an unfortunately small comfort, you're dying.

                                            >Dying of pretty much everything, in fact. You're the last one.

                                            >Burnt String, your sweet little sister, was lucky enough to go out from a brain embolism two years and thirty-six days ago.

                                            >"Crump?"

                                            >Your name is Crumpled Cup. A sad name for a sad mare that was, very briefly, made happy again when she was allowed to occupy this body

                                            >Your tongue and vocal cords falter a bit, but you manage to eek out a response

                                            "Y-yes?"

                                            >"Are you scared?"

                                            >You give her a pained smile

                                            "More sad than scared. I've already been reborn once, who's to say I can't go for two?"

                                            >You try to laugh, but it just hurts like hell, so you stop

                                            "I... wasn't meant to last. I had hoped Stringy would outlive me, she always made so much more use out of her body despite being an earth mare"

                                            >Sam sniffles a bit, you can tell she badly wants to break down and cry too

                                            >You have no doubt she will once you close your eyes for the last time, she's grieved long and hard for Burnt String.

                                            >She's still grieving, even now as she preemptively grieves you.

                                            >"I had hoped we'd all live the rest of our lives together, I don't want to be without..."

                                            >She loses her composure momentarily, a sharp sob exiting her lips as she scoops you up and hugs you

                                            >Your body is in no condition for it, but it doesn't matter now, you're perfectly happy dying in pain if it means she can pull some comfort from your body while it's still warm

                                            >You don't in fact die just yet, and the pain quiets down to a dull roar after she stops squeezing you

                                            "Love you, Sam."

                                            >"You're the light of my life."

                                            "I'm like..."

                                            >You pause for a few minutes, taking in the silence as you look into her eyes

                                            >You laugh, finally, letting the pain settle deep inside your gut and get comfortable

                                            "I'm like one of those goldfish at the fair. Or one of those hermit crabs with the painted shells at the beach shops."

                                            >You nestle into her shirt a little bit, it's soft cotton. Her boobs feel nice, as they always do. Your keeper has a very good body

                                            >You continue, finally.

                                            "Beautiful, damaged, not meant to last."

                                            >That one too breaks her, the two of you sob together, momentarily

                                            >and then quiet down again, no sense wasting your final moments together

                                            "Will you bury me under the garden next to Stringy?"

                                            >She sniffles and laughs

                                            "Silly, you know you can't use cups as fertilizer because of the wax lining"

                                            >You have no idea if that's true, but it gets the two of you laughing dorkily

                                            >"But yes, I will if you won't object to it."

                                            "I want it... the idea of being with her forever is a comforting one"

                                            >"Consider it done then"

                                            >You let out a slight sigh

                                            "Will there be a funeral?"

                                            >"It'd be too high-profile... remember what happened with Gadget's?"

                                            >You do. It's incredible how insensitive people can be about the dead

                                            >"We deserve better than this world."

                                            "Maybe we'll end up in Equestria after it."

                                            >"Maybe."

                                            >You're getting tired again, as Sam and you both know that you're not going to wake up again if you pass out at this point, she's been brewing you coffee to help you stay awake

                                            >"I'll make some more coffee"

                                            "Actually, uh... this is a bit selfish of me but I guess it is a last wish..."

                                            >"A-already? I... I wanted to say so many things! We never got to... I never..."

                                            >Seeing the woman who eagerly took the lead seamlessly in countless domination scenarios stutter like you and String were probe to when you first came here is strange

                                            >You smile at her

                                            "I know you love me and String more than anything. I know you're probably not going to get another pony as long as you live. I know..."

                                            >You sniffle

                                            >You know String was always her favorite, if only by a small margin

                                            >You know that her father molested her

                                            >You know that she dealt drugs in college to pay the bills

                                            >You know that she stood by the ledge of a tall building once and nearly stepped off

                                            >You know innumerable things about her, and now all of them will be lost

                                            >How her hand feels running through your mane on the top of a breezy summit

                                            >How her fingers feel inside your body

                                            >You know innumerable things about her, and now all of them will be lost

                                            "Like tears, in rain."

                                            >You remember Stringy eagerly chasing you around the yard, laughing and hollering

                                            >The little smirk that betrayed nothing during poker

                                            >The way her felt, short fluff felt against yours, pressed in close

                                            >Her failings as a student, then as an artist, then as a human

                                            >Same as you, so close

                                            >The way the little tag on her collar jingled up against the two loops of metal that held it in place

                                            >The unspoken language in your eyes says it all, says your love for her, your empathy for her scars, her empathy for yours, both of your grief

                                            >The deep connection that feels as if it is wired into every failing organ, the few healthy cells that will soon be dragged down with them

                                            >Her eyes say it too, you try to give a passing thought to every good event you've ever had here

                                            >There are too many...

                                            "Can you take me to bed? Tighten my collar? Hold me tightly?"

                                            >You wipe the reservoirs from your eyes

                                            "and pretend like this isn't goodbye, because it isn't. Because we'll meet again."

                                            >and so, you're carried like a leper to bed. Wrapped in comfy sheets, held close with a snug collar, and read the start of a children's story about orphans

                                            >You're in pain, but as comfortable as you could possibly be as your eyelids fall and you slip into the wake of sleep, and then into the thick molasses of that which lies beneath

                                            >It almost feels good, your senses freeing themselves from you, your all succumbing to the sensation of nothingness

                                            >Somewhere far above, wavering voices call and respond:

                                            >"Night, Crumpled."

                                            "Night, Sam."