You groggily sat yourself up in bed, hearing your fluffies wishing each other a “Gud Mownin!” in the other room. The first light of dawn leaked through the crack in the blinds, fluffies woke up as early as any other farm animal it turns out. You stretched, throwing on some sweats and headed out to make everyone breakfast.
“Morning fluffs.” you yawned.
“Mownin daddeh!” Lilac chirped, beaming at you. Clover stretched like a cat next to her, arching his back in their blanket nest.
“You’re in a good mood. Oats for breakfast? Daddy’s feeling lazy.”
“Wif jam?”
“With jam, of course.” you chuckled as she cheered. Even with everything going wrong, Lilac kept herself in high spirits.
You set a full kettle on the stove next to a medium stock pot, and started setting up your coffee when you saw the bottle of purple syrup. Bluebell’s medicine, right. You grabbed it and headed back to the living room.
“Bluebell? You awake?” A soft groan emanated from the blankets. “I have your medicine, it will make you feel better.” You slowly peeled back the layers of cloth until her scarred muzzle appeared. “There you are girl, open up for your juice.”
Slowly her head emerged. You tried not to wince at her appearance, slipping the syringe into her mouth. Her fluff was patchy, missing entirely on one side of her face revealing angry red patches of cracking skin. The built up damage caused the eye on that side to not fully open and with her lips pulled up by the scar tissue her expression was frozen in a permanent half grimace. You brushed back the blankets a little further, gently stroking what remained of her mane.
“I’m going to make breakfast for everyone, I thought we could give it to them together.”
She finished the syringe slowly, not meeting your eyes before replying. “Nu.”
“No?”
“Bwuebeww am tu scawy.”
“Oh sweetie… you aren’t scary. They love you, they haven’t stopped asking about you.”
She sighed, pulling back into the blankets.
“… let’s talk after breakfast, okay? What kind of jam do you want on your oats?”
No reply. You stood in front of the silent blankets until Clover spoke. “Sunshine caww himsewf smawty.”
Bluebell stirred, lifting her head again. “… Wha?”
You sighed. “He did. I don’t know what got into him, but I’ll take care of it. You need to focus on resting and healing.”
“… Bwuebeww wiww gu.”
“You really don’t have to, sweetie. I promise, I can handle him and the rest of the herd.”
“Wiww gu.”
“Okay. Let me make breakfast first.” you shot a glare to Clover to see that Lilac was doing the same.
The now boiling kettle was poured over your coffee grounds, the rest added to the stock pot with a few scoops of oats. As it bubbled you puzzled over what to do with the smarty in your garage. Bringing him to Dave was out of the question. You shouldn’t have given that jackass any of the herd to begin with, no fluffy deserved the shit he did. But… could he even be saved? You had never heard of someone saving a fluffy that went smarty. The bottle of purple syrup sat on the counter, reminding you of the vets warning. He wouldn’t feel any pain, just… drift away.
You shook your head, turning off the stove. Maybe a night alone in the garage would temper him. Maybe this was a phase, or just a response to no leadership in the herd. Grabbing the hot pot with a kitchen cloth, you dumped the majority of the now softened oats into a large mixing bowl to cool a little. You scraped out the last bit in the pots into Clover and Lilac’s bowls, mixing in a spoonful of strawberry jam in each.
“Let these cool, okay?” you set them down, and grabbed the mixing bowl. “I’ll carry you over to the barn-”
“Nu.” Bluebell slowly shook off the blankets and began to lower herself backwards off the couch. Clover and Lilac scooted themselves a little closer to her subtly, as if to catch her when she fell.
“Really, I can carry you…” You trailed off, watching anxiously as she slowly put one hoof on the carpet, then another. She grunted with the effort, a hiss escaping her lips as her hooves lost purchase on the upholstery for a moment. With a small huff she turned and landed heavily on her front hooves. You released the anxious breath you were holding, your fluffies did the same.
“Let’s go then, everyone’s been missing you.”
The walk across the pasture was slow, to say the least. Bluebell was going as fast as she could, grunting with exertion. Her leathery hoof pads were heavily damaged in the blaze and she winced with every step, but refused every time you offered to carry her. She plodded on, teeth gritted, clearly in pain but determined.
As you approached the barn a few fluffies stepped out to have their morning shit before breakfast. Breezy yawned as she stepped into the sun, blinking and flapping her wings. She squinted at you for a while, watching you approach. “Mistah sam? Bwung nyu fwend?” she called out.
“Not a new friend, Bluebell is back from the vet!”
Breezy squealed with joy and ran to her friend as fast as her stubby legs could carry her. Which wasn’t very fast. She pounced on Bluebell, who grunted in pain as she was wrapped in a hug. “Bweezy miss you SUUUUU much! Thot yu gone foebah!!” She sobbed into the scarred unicorn’s shoulder. Bluebell hugged her back, silent but smiling.
You filled up their feeding trough as the herd gathered around Bluebell, crying about how much they missed her and how happy they were to see her. Just like you thought, missing her vastly outweighed any fear of her appearance. You tapped the bowl a few more times to get the last bits out, then headed over to the joyful fluffpile.
“Alright, break it up. Bluebell is still hurt, so be gentle with her and let her get lots of rest.” You gently scooted them away from her with your foot. “Go eat your breakfast before it gets cold!”
The fluffpile slowly dissolved, leaving a tearful Bluebell at the center. “… Wub hewd.” she sniffled.
“Told you, they love you.” You picked her up, hugging her gently to your chest as she sobbed. “You’re a good leader, and the best fluffy.”
“An-an-an den the kitty munstah went SPWAT and was fwat! Like pancake-nummies!” Lilac regaled you with what you missed in their cartoons as you took off your boots.
“Sounds funny!”
“It WAS!” She giggled, fluttering her wings. “Wiwac wan meet WEAL kitty munstah! Pway smashie wiff him!”
“Well,” you plopped down on the couch with them. “Real kitties aren’t like cartoon kitties. They would get hurt if they did anything like the cartoon ones.”
“Oh.” she deflated slightly. “Weww, Wiwac want be fwends wiff kitty munstah anyway.”
“If I see one around, I’ll introduce you.”
She cheered, jumping up and down on the couch cushion. You frowned. Lilac was a bright, bubbly fluffy but… never like this. Clover’s confused expression confirmed this was out of the ordinary.
“Hey, you’re in a good mood today.”
“Yus!” she chirped, watching the cartoons intently.
“Why?”
Lilac froze, her eyes darted to you for half a second then right back to the TV. “… juss… happeh.”
“You sure? Because it seems like theres something you don’t want to tell me…”
Clover stood next to her, watching sternly. “Nu wie to daddeh.”
Her eyes darted between you, Clover, and the TV, tail swishing anxiously. She opened her mouth to reply when-
“WET SMAWTY OWT!!” Sunshine’s muffled cry came from the garage. Bastard finally woke up.
“Damnit. We’ll talk about this when I’m back.” You grabbed a can of dollar store spaghetti on your way out to deal with your latest problem. You figured it was best to try the carrot before resorting to the stick.
The garage was mostly for storage, boxes you hadnt gone through in years lined the walls. You had the good sense to put the wooden crate containing the fluffy formerly known as Sunshine on the bare floor, but not enough sense to move things away from him. A thick spray of feces covered nearby boxes, something you groaned internally at the thought of cleaning up.
“Good morning Sunshine.”
“NU AM SUNSHINE!” He slammed his tiny hooves against the rough wood. “Am SMAWTY! Wet OWT!!”
“No can do, jackass.” you sat down just outside the splash zone, clearly defined in a circle of shit on the floor. “I don’t take orders from little assholes.” Before he could reply, you set the can of spaghetti on the floor between you. “You hungry?”
“Gib sketties!” He stared angrily at the can, cheeks puffed.
“Not until you ask nicely.”
Sunshine snorted. “Smawty nu nee niceys. GIB!”
“No.” You stood, looking down at the little napoleon. “You can have it when you decide to be Sunshine. Smarties don’t get sketty.”
You ignored his screaming as you left. Maybe if you gave him some time to stew over that, you could get him back. For how long, you weren’t sure. If your methods failed… Well you’d burn that bridge when you got to it.
You pushed open the door to the kitchen to another screaming fluffy.
“IF YU NU WUB BABBEHS, WIWAC GU SWEEP IN BAWN!”
“What’s going on?!” You hurried into the living room.
On the couch Clover was cowering, ears flattened against his skull. Lilac stood over him, wings spread and tears streaming down her face. “WIWAC WUB BABBEHS. WIWAC WUB CWOBAH!” She screamed. “YU NU WUB CWOBAH! YU NU WUB BABBEHS CUZ DEY WIKE YU!”
“Whoah whoah whoah,” You shoved Lilac back, separating them. “What the hell are you talking about?” Clover burst into tears, sobbing into his hooves. “Lilac, what do you mean, babies?”
She hesitated, nostrils flaring, then spoke softly. “… Hab tummeh babbehs. Cwobah nu wan.”
“You’re… pregnant? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Nu knu if daddeh be happeh, Wiwac nu ask fiwst.” She shuffled her hooves on the couch, avoiding your gaze. “Wiwac teww Cwobah, he… he nu happeh. Say he nu wan munstah babbehs.” She snorted angrily. “NU babbehs awe MUNSTAH!”
“Okay, okay, settle down. I’m not mad about the babies, I’m really happy for you!”
“Tankoo Daddeh.” She wiped her tears with her hoof then hopped lightly off the couch. “Wet Wiwac outside, Wiwac wan go to bawn, hewd fwuffies be happeh fo Wiwac.” she shot a pointed look at the sobbing alicorn on the couch.
“Course honey.” You opened the door for her and watched her angrily stomp across your yard to the open gate.
“Cwobah nu mean…” a tiny voice sniffled behind you.
“I know buddy.” You sat down next to him and scooped him into a hug. “Why aren’t you happy about the babies?”
He pressed his snotty face into your chest, hiccoughing and whimpering. “…Munstah babbehs nu gud.”
“Why? Aren’t you good?’
He shook his head. “Munstahs nu guud. Mummahs… mummahs gib stompies.”
“Oh Clover… Lilac isn’t going to hurt your babies if they’re like you.”
He began to wail again, you rubbed his mane lightly. Once he got it all out, you’d have to find a way to show him that he wasn’t a monster. Somehow.