Part Nine
Blockhead was playing with her sister, laughing and chattering happily as they passed the ball back and forth. They’d learned that, while games like stacking blocks weren’t going to be an option, it was possible for them both to have fun with Blockhead kicking the ball as hard as she could and Syrup chasing after it and passing it back. It allowed Blockhead to play without having to painfully drag herself after the ball.
Blockhead’s perception of her sister had changed radically since daddeh had taken them in. Where once she’d had only contempt for Syrup, now she felt admiration, love, and respect for her sister, who’d done so much to help, even after Blockhead had done nothing to deserve it, and had done so much to earn her sister’s hatred. As she played, she felt more happy than anything that she and her mummah had failed to kill Syrup, who she was beginning to believe had been the bestest all along, in spite of her color.
There was only one thing that was ruining Blockhead’s appreciation for her sister. The constant chattering about being a nurse-mare, something Blockhead had no interest in, and which only served to remind her of what she’d lost. Usually, Syrup noticed her agitation and wouldn’t talk too much about it, but sometimes her excitement was too much and she chattered on for what seemed like forever.
However, no matter how much Blockhead hated hearing this, she never spoke up. Not because of fear of punishment, but because of a single event, that had more significance to her than she knew Syrup could understand. Something that’d made her resolved to never hurt her sister again, not even with a single mean word.
It’d been a few days ago, but to a fluffy that could mean anything from a week to a year. Syrup had been helping her get to the litterbox, but they hadn’t been quick enough. Blockhead had gone into a fit of sobbing, thinking about the horrible feeling of the sorry-stick on her stumps, something she’d avoided for so long. “Bwockhead nu can taek sowwy-stick 'gain!” she’d cried, and she knew she’d come dangerously close to giving up. The pain was one thing, but the reminder of the Hell she’d been through, of what her life would become again if her sister ever decided not to help her, was too much to bear.
Syrup had tried to comfort her, but there was nothing hugs or kind words could do. Blockhead could not go through that again; her better life recently had only served to make that fear worse, now she had something to lose again. Syrup, after failing to calm her sister down, had muttered “Nu am poopie fwuffy…” and had…cleaned up the mess.
Blockhead understood what the gesture had meant. While she had been to weak to go back to the lowest point in her life, even for a moment, Syrup had chosen to. For her. For a terrible sister who’d never given her anything but pain. In that moment, Blockhead had realized why daddeh loved Syrup more. Syrup was everything good that Blockhead couldn’t be.
That day, Blockhead’s view of the world changed entirely. She knew she’d never been the bestest babbeh, that’d she’d just been a miserable selfish creature. She understood that her mummah had been wrong. So whenever the urges to be selfish, to hurt her sister again in even the smallest way, crept into her mind, Blockhead fought them as hard as she could.
…
“Blockhead, you’ve been a good fluffy recently.”
Blockhead’s heart soared. She was a good fluffy? For the first time ever, daddeh didn’t hate her? The thought wiped away a nagging doubt that’d gnawed at her for the longest time. She could be good!
“Bwockhead am gud fwuffy? Bwockhead am su happy!”
“That’s right. You’ve been such a good fluffy, that I’ve decided to give you a present.”
“Pwesent?” Blockhead was excited. Not just at the prospect of getting something, but because daddeh was happy with her. For the first time in so long, he was talking to her without hatred in his voice. “Wut am it?”
“You decide.”
“WEGGIES!” Blockhead shouted instantly.
“Legs?” The tone of faux confusion easily fooled Blockhead in her excitement. “I don’t have any fluffy legs except your sister’s.”
Blockhead began to reply, but cut off. Bestest babbeh desewbe weggies mowe den poopie babbeh, the part of her that she hated most whispered to her in her mummah’s voice. *NU! NU WAN HUWT SYWUP!* She bitterly fought her inner demons, and spoke.
Wan sketties den. “NU CAWE! WAN WEGGIES!” She said, but horribly realized after a moment that what she’d wanted to say and what the worst part of her had cried had somehow been switched. “NU! NU WAN SYWUP’S WEGGIES!” she tried to scream, but couldn’t.
“I shouldn’t have offered you the choice,” daddeh spat disgustedly. “Fucking piece of shit.”
Blockhead wanted so much to cry out, to take it back. She didn’t WANT this! But it wasn’t her fault! It was her dummeh mummah’s fault! And if it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t be blamed for taking the leggies, for running and playing just for a little while before giving them back…
“SCREEEEEEEE! WAI HUWT WEGGIE?” Syrup’s tortured wail cut deep into Blockhead.
“NUUUUU! NU WAN WOSE WEGGIES! NEE’ WEGGIES FOW GIB BABBEHS HUGGIES AND WUB! FOW WUNNIN’ AND PWAYIN’ WIF BABBEHS! PWEASE NU TAEK ODDA WEGGIES!” the wail continued, responding to an unheard voice.
“PWEASE! SYWUP NU NYO WUT DU, BUT AM SOWWY! PWEASE NU TAEK WASTEST WEGGIE! PWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!”
Blockhead threw up.
…
“Here,” daddeh growled, holding a bag that reeked of blood.
“Pwease put weggies on Bwockhead, onwy fow a wittwe whiwe!”
“What? That’s not how it works. You can’t just take legs from one fluffy and put them on another.”
Blockhead’s hope was crushed. She’d never get to run and play again! “Den pwease gib weggies baek to Sywup.”
“I can’t do that either. Once legs are off, they’re gone forever. Congratulations, you just ruined your sister’s life.”
“NUUUU! NU WAN! NU WAN! NU WAN!”
“Should have thought of that earlier, disgusting shitrat.”
…
Blockhead didn’t see her sister again for a long, long time. She’d long ago given up trying to make it to the litterbox and back, and had instead started just living in it. After hours of agonizing effort, she’d managed to drag her food and water bowls close enough to reach. Slow, miserable days passed.
“Hey, shithead.”
She looked up, seeing daddeh standing there.
“I’ve decided to let you apologize to your sister. I didn’t really want to make her have to see you again, but I think it’s important that she understands that you are the reason why she’s been hurt so much.”
“Otay.”
“So listen up. Don’t you dare mention her legs to her. She doesn’t need to be reminded of it. Understood?”
“Bwockhead undastan’.”
“Good.”
He stomped out, and returned a few minutes later with Syrup in the pillowfluff bed. Seeing her hurt, and seeing her lying there without her legs hurt more, but what hurt most was the brave expression on her tear-soaked face. She looked concerned, and it hurt so much to see!
“BWOCKHEAD AM SOWWY! BWOCKHEAD ONWY GIB HUWTIES! ONWY GIB SADDIES! Huuhuuhuu! Bwockhead am wowstest fwuffy ebah!”
Blockhead realized something. Syrup had never been the defective one, and neither had she. They’d both been broken, ruined by scars left from their mother. Syrup did nothing but give, and Blockhead could do nothing but take. She burned in hatred, for her mummah and for herself.
“It am otay. Sywup fowgib 'ou.”
Blockhead wanted to scream at this. She didn’t want to be forgiven! She wanted her sister to hate her! She wanted her sister to understand that she shouldn’t be giving anything, least of all forgiveness!
Bwockhead wiww nebah be gud fwuffy. Wiww onwy huwt Sywup.
She looked at her water bowl, filled strangely to the top today. “Wan die.” she murmured, inperceptibly, before her anguish and the resolution she’d made overwhelmed her, crushing instinct, programming, and fear. She shoved her face into the water bowl, all the way to the bottom, and breathed deeply.
…
“PWEASE, DADDEH!” Syrup begged as she thrashed, failing to get out of the pillowfluff nest, but was unable. “SABE BWOCKHEAD!”
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do,” Rob replied, truthfully. Once a fluffy had water in their lungs it was over.
“Huu huu huu! Wai? Wai Bwockhead gib sewf foweba-sweepies?”
“When a mummah has a bestest babbeh, even if they don’t tell the babbeh they’re the bestest, they put a monster in the babbeh’s head. The monster makes the babbeh hurt other fluffies, even if they don’t want to. Sometimes, the only way to stop the monster is to go forever-sleepies. Blockhead didn’t want to hurt you any more, so she went forever-sleepies to protect you.”
“Huu huu huu!”
“Syrup, I want you to promise you’ll never treat a babbeh better than the others. I don’t want this to happen again.”
“SYWUP PWOMISE!” the filly wailed, before falling back into sobs.
Rob congratulated himself on a job well done. Fluffies would instinctively pick a favorite foal, and fighting instinct was hard. Even with Syrup’s good bahavior, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t pick a favorite and ruin a foal. But trauma can be just as powerful as instinct.
“Daddeh?”
“What is it?”
“Can daddeh gib sissies nyu namesies? Nu wan 'membew sissies wif meanie namesies.”
“I understand. How does Cherry sound?”
“Dat am gud namesies. Tank 'ou, daddeh.”
…
Not long previously, Rob lowered Syrup into the modified pillowfluff bed, altered to hide her legs. “Your sister is very sad, so seeing your legs would only make her more sad,” he explained. “But now she’d not sick anymore, so you can see her again. I think she wanted to apologize about something. Don’t mention anything about legs, though.”
“Otay.” Syrup was shaking with excitement about being able to see her sister again after so long.
Rob looked at her and sighed. “Your face is a mess. Here.” He wiped it with a wet cloth, leaving her face damp and looking, from a distance, as if it was drenched with tears.
…
Once more in darkness.
How the fuck was I more self-aware as a fluffy?
Part Eleven
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Ok, I was wrong on both counts for my theories. But still a good turn, Blockhead learning empathy and then learning that caring comes with a metric fuckton of guilt was nice to see. Shame Syrup had to go through it as well but she seems… happy I guess.
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