Cherry and Brian, Chapter 11.5: Grief (Star-The-Alicorn)

(Whether this is canon or not is up to the reader!)

A few weeks later, things seemed back to normal. They’d kept a tight watch on the street, and it seemed that their stalker situation had calmed down for now. So, thankfully, Brian and Gavin could leave the safety of their house without fearing for their lives. Brian was strolling through a particularly sketchy part of town when he accidentally kicked something metallic with his foot. It skittered across the asphalt, making hollow “Clunk” sounds, and he looked down at it. It was a can. A can of what?

Brian stared down at the can on the sidewalk. What the heck was that? He reached down and, without thinking, picked it up. The familiar stench of way too much fluffy feces assaulted his nostrils and he gagged. That’s when he heard the chirping. Oh, no.

He peered into the stinky brown slime-coated can and saw a small orange foal peeping and crying. It seemed to be both starving and overheating. The can must have been sitting under the hot summer sun for days, with the foal unable to escape.

What. The. Fuck. Was. This. Shit.

Brian gasped and hurriedly unscrewed the top of the can. Feces and urine flowed out of the can, the horrible smell intensified, and he heard the tiny foal gasping for the fresh air. He gently pulled the foal out of the plastic can, holding it in his hands. It was tiny and so, so thin. It breathed weakly, wheezing and coughing. He could count the poor thing’s ribs by sight. When had it run out of milk?

He placed the foal in Cherry’s fluffy seat (Apologizing under his breath to Cherry for dirtying the seat, he’d clean it later) and raced to the nearest biotoy store. He didn’t give a damn what items it sold there this time, this was a matter of life or death. He grabbed one of the better brands of foal formula and a bottle and ran back to his car after paying.

He gently scooped the foal up, held the bottle’s silicon nipple up to the foal’s lips and the fluffy latched on. While it suckled, Brian looked it over and saw that it was a male earthie. Its eyes weren’t even open yet. It had been born with its left hind leg missing. It drank for a few long minutes before settling back with a burp. The foal’s abdomen was a little swollen due to the copious amount of milk it just chugged, and it looked happy. At least, happier than it had been before. It was still weak and filthy, covered in its own waste.

Brian sighed in relief, his breath ruffling the foal’s downy fur. Hopefully he hadn’t been too late. He slowly drove home, quietly playing soothing songs on the radio. The foal in Cherry’s seat listened in, its ears twitching left and right towards the speakers. It fell asleep purring, and Brian relaxed muscles that he hadn’t known were tense with stress.

When he got home, he brought the foal in with cupped hands, dodging 4 excited fluffies. Gavin wasn’t home from work yet, but he would be soon. He decided to answer his pets’ questions later and got to work gently cleaning the foal with a warm, damp washcloth and fluffy shampoo.

The whole time, Cherry heard the peeping and was pacing around Brian’s feet, asking constant questions. “What Bwian doing?” “Am dat babbeh?” “Babbeh nu smeww pwetty. Am babbeh otay?” Once in a while he’d drag his body along Brian’s leg to get his attention, like a cat does.

Switchy smartly stood back, staying out of Brian’s way and watching from a distance. Dusk didn’t seem to care, aloof as always. Apple was sniffing around, knowing he could smell a new fluffy.

After gently rubbing the foal dry with a kitchen towel, he dragged out Cherry’s old playpen and grabbed Daphne’s old dog bed. He placed the bottle on the bed with the foal, and put some newspaper under the small earthie. The poor thing was so, so weak. It couldn’t even get up and crawl around despite it being old enough to. Brian sat down on the couch and called the 4 fluffies up to sit beside him.

“Bwian, wha’ goin on?” Cherry asked, gazing up at Brian with his big green eyes. Apple stood beside Cherry, looking up at him pleadingly. Switchy was cocking his head in curiosity and confusion, and Dusk was rolling his eyes. Brian sighed.

"I found a foal in some kind of can outside. It’s very weak and very young, so no playing with it until I say it’s okay. This foal hasn’t eaten for a very long time, so it needs to get strong. Okay?” Brian looked sternly down at his fluffies, and they all nodded. He let the fluffies off the couch.

Brian heard his fluffies as they walked off. Dusk went upstairs to take a nap, muttering “Babbeh bettew not make wots of noisies.”

Switchy and Apple gazed down at the foal, quietly talking to it. Cherry stood back, watching the foal but not wanting to accidentally scare it.

Brian headed over to his laptop. He searched up “foal in can” and found several results. What he saw was horrifying. Images of foals left to die and rot in these cans, stories of fluffy rescues who encountered the most heartbreaking case of foal death they had ever seen. First-time genuine owners who took home a canned foal and woke up in the morning to find that it had died overnight.

He learned that canned foals came from vending machines that used to be common, but were now rare due to low approval from all, including abusers. The only ones that currently existed were in bad neighborhoods where not many people lived anyway. Brian had been walking through a sketchy alleyway that day. He read the many stories of heartbroken first-time fluffy owners and almost cried. This foal could very well die. He didn’t dare name it and therefore get more attached to it than he already was. All he could do was hope it pulled through.

Days passed, he fed it by the hour. Gavin did too. Both of them took turns calling in fake-sick so the foal wouldn’t starve while they were gone. They changed its newspaper, spoke to it, and slowly introduced the fluffies to it. Whether Brian wanted to or not, he was getting attached. He really was a sucker for these small creatures.

A few days after, the foal opened its eyes. Brian looked into its eyes and saw that the poor foal was blind. Shit. The fluffy would never see properly. It cooed as if nothing was wrong, and Brian felt himself tear up. How could someone put something this cute through that much suffering? It hadn’t done anything wrong.

The foal had fattened up a fair bit and was a little stronger, so now it could crawl around and take a few wobbly steps. He placed it on the ground and it sat down, chirping confusedly. The foal stared around blindly. “D-Da…” The foal started. Brian’s heart melted. It was about to say its first word!

“D-Daddeh!” The foal squeaked. “Wuv! Daddeh, wuv!” Brian’s throat grew tight. So cute! Cherry ran over and nuzzled the foal, accidentally startling it. It squeaked and fell on its back, chirping frantically and wetting itself.

Cherry gasped. “Sowwy babbeh! Chewwy nu mean to scawe yoo!” Cherry slowly crawled up to the foal and booped noses with it. It calmed down. Apple walked over and lay down on the floor so he was at the same height level as the foal. The baby crawled around, sniffing. It slowly made its way over to Apple and touched noses in greeting. Apple smiled.

After Brian cleaned off the foal and the floor, he let the 4 fluffies into the playpen with it. Dusk squawked indignantly as he was lifted up and placed in the pen. “Nu wan’ see dummeh babbeh!” He barked. Brian rolled his eyes.

“If this foal is to live here with us, then we need to get to know it.” Brain explained.

“Nu cawe!” Dusk griped but lay down next to the foal. Brain sighed. Dusk was attached too, he just had a stick up his ass about it.

The foal grew into adolescence, and had learned the limits of its enclosure well by then. Brian happily assumed it would survive, so he named it Tangerine. It’s blind eyes sparkled and it hopped around excitedly when it learned its name.

“Fwuffy name am Tangewine! Wuv nyu name!” Brian laughed, his heart melting at the cuteness of this fluffy.

Eventually, the fluffies grew to love Tangerine too. They snuggled up to him at night, guided him around the house when he asked them to, and taught him what smells were what.

Even Dusk growled at Brian when he tried to take Tangerine from him. Brian smirked. Called it.

“Oh, Tangerine!” Brian called one morning. Silence. Worried, he walked into the room, and saw Tangerine lying on the dog bed. He entered the playpen to wake him and was instantly panicked.

Tangerine lay in the bed, not breathing. Motionless. He scooped the colt up, cradling it in his hands. He had learned how to do fluffy cpr over the internet just in case something had happened with his fluffies, but it was useless. The fluffy’s body was cold. Stiff. He’d been dead all night, perhaps he had even died right after everyone went to bed.

He knelt down, his vision growing misty. Tears started to fall from his eyes and he sniffled. His mind flashed back to Daphne, his old dog. He remembered clutching her limp, still-warm body in his hands. He blinked a few times and could have sworn he saw blood on his hands, but there was none.

He’d done exactly what he said he wouldn’t do; He got attached. He named it, played with it, cuddled with it at night. He felt a sob building up in his chest. Cherry walked into the room, singing about “Mowning nummies am bestest nummies”. The alicorn stopped in his tracks when he saw his owner kneeling in the playpen crying.

“Bwian? … Wha’ am wong? Why yoo cwyin’?” Cherry asked. He slowly walked over, and his fuzzy face fell when he saw the foal lying dead in his owner’s hands. Cherry felt his chest begin to hurt. “Huu, huu huuu…” Cherry whimpered, trudging over to the dead fluffy, hanging his head. “A-Am Tangewine foweva sweepies?” Cherry asked, eyes teary. Cherry gazed into his owner’s sad eyes, silently begging for Tangerine to get back up as if his death was all a big prank on them.

Brian couldn’t even speak. He nodded, sobbing. Cherry broke down, covering his face with his hooves. “Huu huuuu! B-Bu’ daddeh Chewwy wub babbeh! Bwian wub babbeh! Nuuuu, huu huu!” Brian’s heart broke even more when he realized that Cherry had seen Tangerine as a son.

Switchy raced into the room, hearing Cherry’s cries and running to his rescue. He was then face to face with the now-dead foal. “Scree!” He yelped, startled by the fact that he was so close to something dead. He shrunk back, tearing up and shivering. He snuggled up next to Cherry, who was inconsolable.

“T-Tangewine? Why babbeh nu move? A-Am fowevah sweepies?” Switchy asked Cherry. Cherry wailed and hid his face in Switchy’s chest, nodding.

Apple practically dragged Dusk downstairs, speaking softly about “Somefing is wong! Fwuffy fwiends awe saddies! Come hewp!”

Dusk growled as he was pulled by his collar down the stairs. It was too early for this shit. They both stopped when they saw their owner, Cherry and Switchy crying in the playpen.
Apple let go of Dusk’s collar and slowly walked up to Brian’s cupped hands.

The earthie’s attitude dropped immediately. Dusk followed him slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew what had happened; it just hadn’t hit him yet.

“Can I see Tangewine?” Apple asked concernedly. Brian tilted his hands so Apple could see the colt. Apple’s ears drooped and his face crumpled. He gently picked up the small fluffy and cradled it, sobbing wordlessly.

Dusk felt his heart break for the very first time. His muzzle wrinkled in an upset snarl and stomped a hoof. “D-Dummeh babbeh wakies! Nu gif heart huwties!” The fur under his eyes became wet with tears, and his voice was choked up. His throat hurt. He hung his head and bawled. He flopped down on the floor and pounded on the carpet with his hooves.

"HUU HUU HUUU! WHY BABBEH FOWEVA SWEEPIES? BIGGES’ HEAWT HUWTIES!” Dusk wailed. It was the worst emotional pain he’d ever been in, as well as the first. He hid his head under his front legs and howled in emotional agony.

For the longest time, none of them could stop crying. They’d loved Tangerine, and had looked forward to him growing up in their family. They didn’t start to bury the foal until Gavin came home. Gavin was heartbroken too, sitting on the couch and holding his face in his hands.

Tangerine would be buried under the orange tree sapling in the backyard, marked with a large chunk of blue quartz as a headstone. Every time Cherry and Switchy went outside from then on, they’d hug the orange tree and wish Tangerine well, hoping he was having a good time in “Skettiwand”.

None of them would forget their little citrus fluff.

17 Likes

Excellent sadbox. I suspect dusk did sorry hoofies at night time tho

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Oh dw, he didn’t. He may be a smarty, but he’s not that big of an asshole. (If you headcanon that he did though, that’s a-ok! Different situations than canon sound pretty interesting tbh.)

7 Likes

Ahahaha I mean I do it for the lolz but also if someone needs story ideas they are free to use them of course

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Thinking of creating some “what if” drabbles now, that sounds like it’d be fun! Like a “What if Dusk was the cause of this” sort of thing.

5 Likes

Man, I thought Dusk killed him. I’m glad that’s not the case.

5 Likes

HEY!!! Stop cutting onions!

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Haha, SUFFER! /lh
Evil writer laughter

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At least he died happy.

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If brian hadn’t already tried fluffy cpr, I half expected dusk to stomp tangerines chest when he said “D-Dummeh babbeh wakies! Nu gif heart huwties!” and for tangerine to gasp into consciousness.

5 Likes

Brian would just sit there like “Holy shit my fluffy just saved a life”

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i love this series and I’m just gonna reread all of it until the next part

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Every single day I get surprised at how much people love this series :pleading_face: Thank you!

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tbh i wish i got this praise for my story.

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I came here to get hurt, and was not disappointed. Masterful sadbox.

I particularly appreciate the degree of characterization in your stories: each fluffy has their own distinct, believable, personality. It really adds emotional depth.

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Thank you! Did my best to make each fluffy its own individual person too. Glad you liked it!

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Cute and sad and dusk i hate that he is so much like me damn