Chapter One: Welcome Back, Alice

~BlackRoseRaven

Twilight Sparkle walked slowly down the corridor, the lavender-colored unicorn shaking her head briskly as if to try and clear it, making her dark mane sway. Both it and her tail were run through with a line of bright pink and warm mauve; colors that seemed almost obscene in this humorless and sterile building.

Her worried violet eyes glanced to the side, at the much-taller winged unicorn beside her: with her ivory coat, cutie mark of a brilliant sun, and the ever-flowing, almost-ethereal rainbow locks and tail that swayed through the air of their own accord, she was a regal and majestic figure even without the diadem and peytral plate she wore. Her amethyst eyes looked reassuringly down at Twilight, but the purple mare could only give the weakest of smiles up to her mentor, her teacher, her idol, Princess Celestia. The Princess of the Sun, who brought the day, who ruled all of Equestria... alone.

They passed a group of lingering ponies in blue and white hospital gowns, one who was only staring vacantly at the ground, two who looked at them with hollow eyes. Twilight shuddered despite herself as she turned her head quickly away, then she grimaced as another pony shoved past them with a clipboard, half-muttering an apology and clad in a lab coat.

"Are you alright, Twilight Sparkle?" Celestia asked quietly, and when Twilight managed the faintest of smiles as they continued down the corridor, the Princess of the Sun visibly softened. "I'm sorry. But there simply isn't anyone else, and... you were always close to..."

Celestia closed her eyes for a moment, even as they continued down this seemingly-endless corridor, and Twilight shivered. She didn't know how to respond as she looked ahead, a tremble running through her body before Celestia forced her eyes open and gave a small smile, forcing some warmth back in her voice as she murmured: "Besides. You may be gifted in the realm of magic, Twilight..." A glance back at at the violet mare's cutie mark, of a six-pointed, reddish-pink star surrounded by white sparkles. "But you have a true gift for making and taking care of friends, too."

"It's... it's okay, Princess Celestia, I'm just..." But before Twilight could finish, a graying unicorn emerged from a door ahead, irritably motioning away several other ponies in gowns with a clipboard held aloft by telekinesis before he glanced towards them and gestured almost curtly.

The two fell quiet as they approached, and the unicorn studied them almost distastefully from behind his clip-on glasses as he tilted his head to the side, closing the door marked 'Window Room A1' almost completely with telekinesis. Then he sighed before gazing back and forth between the two as Twilight looked almost desperate and Celestia smiled weakly, the Princess of the Sun herself seeming humble and withdrawn as the doctor looked down at his clipboard before saying finally: "Well, we have some paperwork to sign, and I'd like to go over a few things with you, and then you can leave with him, I suppose."

Twilight hesitated, and then, before she could stop herself, she said apprehensively: "You don't sound very... confident. Is... is he okay?"

The doctor snorted at this, looking up almost irritably before he replied brusquely: "The patient has been in treatment for two years now with no significant signs of improvement. He's delusional, combative, suffers from bouts of depression and paranoia, and he has on several occasions gone into a psychotic delirium. But again, we've treated him for two years, he refuses to take his medications and lies about his health constantly, and now I have the Princess herself leaning on me to have him released from our care. No, I do not think he should be released, any more than I think he should be here. He should be locked up in Ward D, where he can talk to himself all he wants in a padded cell."

"He's schizophrenic?" asked Twilight incredulously, leaning back and looking shocked: both by what she assumed the diagnosis was and the doctor's cold behavior.

"Schizophrenic? Please. Not every mental patient suffers from schizophrenia or obsessive-compulsive disorder or other popular catchwords." The doctor retorted, looking irritated as he shook his head before glancing towards the door. "His condition stems from chronic anxiety, severe depression, and nightmares. The trauma of losing his fiancee simply pushed him over the edge, and he crafted these delusions and fantasies to try and desperately deny what happened."

Celestia closed her eyes and lowered her head, and Twilight trembled a bit... and finally, the doctor relented a little, sighing softly as he lowered his clipboard and looked across at them quietly. "I'll be honest. He protects and clings to his psychological condition, and I don't... entirely hold it against him. It's a harsh world out there, and even though I strongly dislike him I sympathize. The only reason I'm willing to go ahead with this is because I hope that being in the real world helps cut through this shell he's formed, and helping him understand he's clinging to delusions, not reality, is the first step towards fixing what's wrong with him."

"But... he does display schizotypal tendencies? Is that what the medication is for?" Twilight asked after a moment, even as she was trying to process things, and the doctor looked at her meditatively.

"Fine. A little bit of my contempt is revoked." he said after a moment, and then he sighed and shook his head slowly. "No, the most important thing is to keep his anxiety levels low. And keep an eye on him... we've only had to stop him from hurting himself once or twice in the past, but the level of self-mutilation he came in with... it was severe enough to leave me extremely concerned about what he's capable of doing to himself."

Twilight swallowed thickly, looking down as Celestia nodded slowly and murmured quietly: "It's why Twilight Sparkle has volunteered to keep an eye on him and help him adjust. He's going to stay with her in Ponyville... it's a quiet, small village, and I think it will be good for him to get out of Canterlot. He always liked Ponyville, just like... just like Luna did..."

Twilight and Celestia both traded silent looks, thinking of that night, long ago, when the worst had come to pass. When Celestia's little sister and the Princess of the Night had gotten on the Friendship Express with a bright, happy smile to go to Ponyville... and in the morning, the wreckage of the train had been found at the bottom of a mountain gorge, with few survivors... and Luna dead.

Her then-fiance had gone insane with grief over losing her, refused to believe it even now... but Luna had likely been napping, and there would have been no time to react anyway. The moment the tracks had given out, it had spelled the death of every pony except for a few who had survived by sheer stupid luck. And as Celestia and Twilight traded silent gazes, the doctor hesitated before he sighed and pulled a few sheets free of his clipboard, passing this to Twilight with telekinesis. "These are his medications, names of his doctors, and a schedule of appointments. He's all packed up and ready to go. Please make sure that he takes his medication... or at least the anti-anxiety meds. The only time we've ever made headway with his condition is through treating the anxiety, it's very important we keep that to a minimum."

Twilight nodded slowly, taking the sheets in her own telekinetic grip as Celestia looked hesitantly towards the door, and then she said quietly: "Go ahead, Twilight Sparkle. I have a few more questions for the doctor."

The violet mare smiled nervously, then she sighed after a moment and nodded, carefully turning to push through the door as the doctor and Celestia both watched her enter the room beyond. It was large and empty and somehow ghostly despite the light shining in through the massive picture window... a window made of reinforced, heavy-duty glass and crossed by heavy bars that looked ornamental, but clearly were there for more than decorative purposes.

Only a single figure sat in the room, staring out the window: a large earth pony, with a charcoal, dirty coat and a ragged white mane and tail. She could see his cutie mark on his haunch, and she smiled faintly as she slowly, nervously strode towards him, looking down and studying this: a black rose blossom, with a black raven feather quill overtop. His talent was for writing... his dark but romantic poetry had been much of what had won Luna's heart.

As she approached, he looked up a bit, but didn't turn, and Twilight swallowed a little as she drew up beside him and carefully put the sheets aside for a moment, simply sitting beside the earth pony. She looked at him slowly, shivering a little as she always did: scars covered his body, from the hoof-shaped marring on one side of his face to slashes and lines across his strong frame. He wasn't handsome... but she didn't find him ugly, either. He was hard for her to look at, not because of the pity and sadness and pain she felt for him, or because of the unattractive scarring that distorted his strong frame... but because once she started looking at him, she found it hard to look away.

Slowly, his chestnut eyes turned towards her, meeting hers for a few moments: they studied each other, and then Twilight trembled before she slipped over beside him and hugged him fiercely around the neck, closing her eyes and burying her face against him as she whispered: "We're gonna leave, okay, Scrivener Blooms? We're gonna go back to Ponyville, and we're going to work through this together. I have a room in the library set up for you, and... we're going to work through this."

Scrivener only lowered his head silently, not speaking, and then he finally sighed and reached a hoof up, halfheartedly returning the embrace as he whispered: "I'm not crazy, Twilight. This... this is all wrong, that's all."

"It's okay. We can talk about it after we get out of here, okay? You can talk as long as you want with me, and I'll listen to every word and try to understand..." Twilight hesitated, then she slowly pulled back, looking up at him almost pleadingly. "But... Scrivy. Can't... can't you at least try and see that... these fantasies, they're not real. I know I can't imagine what you're going through, but-"

Scrivener only grunted and half-turned away, and Twilight quieted before the earth pony stood and stepped back from her, the violet mare dropping her head forwards as the stallion picked up a small cloth satchel and quickly slipped it onto himself, muttering: "It's real, Twilight, and it's the only thing I'm sure of these days. Look, let's... let's just get out of here, okay?"

Twilight hesitated, and then she looked silently over Scrivener before nodding slowly to him, picking up the sheets of paper. She smiled a little as she tucked these into the satchel hanging at his side, and the earth pony looked over at her for a few moments before he closed his eyes and bowed his head, mumbling: "Thank you, though."

"It's... it's really Princess Celestia, not me, who got you out of here, Scrivener." Twilight said finally, smiling faintly before she looked ahead towards the door, hearing the doctor and Celestia talking, but not paying any attention to their words as she murmured: "You and Luna were such good friends to me. Besides, it'll be... I'm glad to help."

Scrivener nodded and lowered his gaze, then he sighed softly as he strode behind Twilight Sparkle, following her to the door as the voices outside quieted a little. The two stepped out into the long hallway, and Scrivener and the doctor glared at each other for a moment before the charcoal stallion's attention was drawn by Celestia, as she bowed her head towards him and said quietly: "It's good to see you, Scrivener Blooms."

"You too, Celestia." Scrivener said after a moment, studying her before he sighed a little and bowed his head quietly, closing his eyes. "Let's please get out of here. I'm... anxious to get out of here."

"Wait. Scrivener." the doctor said clearly, and Scrivener sighed even as he looked up and across at the psychiatrist. "Please remember to take your medication... and even as an outpatient, you still need to come in for counseling and regular interviews. I'll be requesting blood work to be done, too, to make sure you're taking your medication... and keep in mind that if you act out outside of this facility, you could end up in jail, not back here at CIMH. You don't want that, do you?"

"I don't want a lot of things." Scrivener muttered, looking irritably across at the doctor before he nodded slowly, dropping his gaze. "Right. I already promised to behave, didn't I?"

"You did, but I wanted to make sure anyway." For a moment, the doctor paused... and then he sighed and reached a hoof up, touching Scrivener's shoulder gently and looking across into his eyes when the charcoal stallion looked silently up. "Take care of yourself."

Scrivener only closed his eyes in return, and then he shook his head slowly before turning to leave. Twilight hurried after him, and Princess Celestia gave a faint smile and nod to the doctor before she turned to follow the two out of the endless hall.


The travel was a blur for Scrivener Blooms: all he knew was that on the way through Canterlot, Celestia had kept a sharp eye on him and Twilight had talked and rambled and questioned him, but he'd barely responded. Barely been aware, as he looked around at the dusky sky overhead and the world that seemed so big, buildings tall and looming and ponies chattering, all of them seeming to stare as if they knew he was different, he wasn't like them.

Celestia parted ways with them at Canterlot Castle, and sent them to Ponyville by sky chariot: Twilight had smiled, and Scrivener had simply continued to stare around, still lost in his own thoughts. He was out of the mental institution, but what did it matter? Everyone still thought he was insane. And this wasn't home... this wasn't his world, these weren't the ponies he knew, had been friends with. Everything was different.

Scrivener Blooms was quiet, mind racing and rampaging, eyes betraying his inner turmoil. Twilight tried to distract him, keep him entertained, but it was all useless, and she eventually fell quiet until they touched down in Ponyville, in front of the enormous tree that housed the library. Scrivener looked at it silently, studying it, thinking of how similar this was to what he remembered... but in his world, everything was different, too. And most important of all, in his world... Luna wasn't dead.

He stepped out of the chariot, shaking his head and looking up, and Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly at him, saying quietly: "I asked Spike to stay over at a friend's tonight, so... so we can talk about things, and you can settle in. It's been a few weeks since I last saw you and... well... visiting you at the Canterlot Institute for Mental Health never exactly made conversation easy. But... I want you to know this is a safe place here, and you can say anything you want and I'm not going to judge you or hold it against you or call you crazy, Scrivener, no matter-"

Twilight was cut off by a blare of trumpets and a burst of confetti as she opened the door, stuttering to a halt before a bright pink earth pony with a mane and tail like tumbled cotton candy leapt out, declaring happily: "You guys are right on time!"

Scrivener only had a moment to stare before the pink mare hurried behind him, shoving him quickly forwards into the room... and immediately, he ground his teeth together, eyes going wide as he stared around like a hunted animal as cheerful yells filled the air and confetti flew in all directions.

"Hey, welcome to Ponyville! You're Scrivener Blooms, right, and you're staying here with Twilight now, right? Well, everypony who comes to Ponyville gets a welcome party, and if you're friends with Twilight, then you're my friend too!" exclaimed the bright pink pony as she leapt in front of Scrivener, and now other ponies were clustering in, Scrivener all-but-hyperventilating as he looked back and forth through the wild throng of multicolored ponies, the music, the sounds, the bright colors after the dull and drab and calm grays and blues and greens of the mental health facility all assaulting his senses.

Paranoia ripped through his mind as Twilight shouted angrily, desperately, but it was swallowed up in the din of the crowd as another pony leapt forwards, seizing one of his front hooves and shaking it firmly: a goldenrod mare, with a well-worn cowboy hat over her head and her mane tied back in a ponytail, as she declared: "Well, I reckon you must be even bigger than Big Mac! My name's Applejack, and-"

"And is it true you were locked up with all the psychos and crazies and stuff?" interrupted a Pegasus pony that shot down from the air, powder blue and with a mane and tail both streaked with a rainbow of colors, grinning widely as her magenta eyes locked on him. "How'd you survive? What was it like? Dude your scars! You-"

Then Scrivener dropped forwards, yelling loudly and covering his head as Twilight rushed to his side with a curse, half-embracing him with one leg as she glared up at the others and shouted: "Stop, stop! He can't handle this, everyone needs to get out, now!"

"Twilight, hey now, calm down..." Applejack's voice began hesitantly, sounding surprised... but in Scrivener's mind, the voices were melding into the cacophony of music, becoming a discordant chorus. Frustration and paranoia and anxiety bubbled upwards, making his mind boil as he breathed hard in and out, clutching tighter against his own skull as laughter began to rise through the sound, as he heard mockery, as he heard...

Then, slowly, Scrivener rose his head... and he realized that everyone was gone. He was sitting, alone, in the middle of an empty room, the decorations still floating around him and a table still covered in food, and the charcoal stallion looked nervously back and forth as shivers passed through his body before Twilight's voice asked worriedly: "Are you okay, Scrivener?"

Scrivener jumped, then he spun towards the archway leading into a long corridor, and Twilight winced before the stallion nodded hesitantly, reaching up to touch his own chest and try and calm his thudding heart. Twilight smiled at him encouragingly when she saw him settling, and she carefully stepped forwards, studying him as she said slowly: "You... you were mumbling to yourself and... I didn't know what to do. I was scared that..."

She quieted, and Scrivener looked down silently before Twilight shook her head quickly and said hurriedly: "Anyway, I'm really sorry. Pinkie Pie just got ahead of herself, even though I tried to ask her to wait to throw a quieter party... she... she really didn't know. About your condition, I mean... they know you were... in a safe place for a while... but they don't know about your..."

"My past." Scrivener muttered, and he shook himself out briskly before sighing a little and nodding as Twilight looked over him apprehensively. "I... thanks."

Twilight only nodded a little, and then she quietly strode towards him and sat down in front of him, and the two looked at each other for a few long moments before she asked quietly, even as a blush suffused her features: "Do... do you want to talk about... it?"

There was only one thing Twilight could be referring to... and Scrivener sighed softly as he lowered his head forwards, slowly shrugging off the satchel before he looked bitterly at the ground and murmured: "Why should I bother anymore, Twilight? No one believes me... and I can't even blame them. Even I have my own doubts sometime..."

He turned away, but only hesitated a moment before whispering: "Look. I'm really glad that whatever the truth is... we're friends. But you don't want to hear me tell this story for the thousandth time, do you?"

Twilight sighed softly, looking down for a moment before she glanced up with a faint smile, murmuring: "Scrivener, I'm here to help you. I can't imagine what it must have been like, losing your fiancee..."

"Wife. She was my wife. She was my... soulmate." Scrivener murmured, closing his eyes tightly, and Twilight looked at him silently. "And Luna is dead in this world but... but my Luna isn't. She can't be. She has to be... somewhere, I don't know where, I don't know how, but sometimes I almost hear her in my mind, calling out to me through our link. I have no idea how we've survived being apart for so long but... I know she's got to be alive somewhere. All I remember is falling into that deep, dark abyss with her, holding her so tight... and next thing I know, I'm in a mental ward..."

Twilight looked at him quietly, and then she turned and headed towards a shelf, and Scrivener looked up to watch her before he frowned when she lifted several large manuscripts free with telekinesis. Then she turned and headed back towards him, quietly putting these down in front of him as she said quietly: "And this is what you believe happened... these are your stories from the world you believe you come from, right?"

Scrivener snorted in contempt, but it badly hid the surprise and what was almost gratitude in his eyes as he looked silently down at the manuscripts. They were copies of his own writing, the one thing he'd been allowed to do in the mental institution... and he sighed after a moment, looking away as he murmured: "Yeah."

Twilight nodded slowly, smiling faintly as she reached forwards and touched one of the large manuscripts, blushing a bit as she lowered her head and said awkwardly: "I... you and Luna and... I mean..." She cleared her throat, then shook her head hurriedly before murmuring: "Scrivener, look around, though. You saw Rainbow Dash tonight... she's a mare, not a stallion. There was never any Ragnarok, Princess Celestia is... no tyrant, no Valkyrie... and you and I and... and Luna were... I mean... we never..."

She flushed and looked aside again, then finally smiled faintly before returning her gaze to him, gauging his reaction. The stallion was only silent, however, closing his eyes as he bowed his head forwards, shivering a little and thinking of her words. Thinking of the Luna he'd known, that he would swear up and down he'd known... a laughing, proud Valkyrie, not a Princess of the Night. A warrior, who had taught him everything he knew, who had made him strong, who he had loved, stood beside, raised children with as husband and wife...

He shook his head out quickly, then finally looked up, seeing that Twilight was still studying him, still measuring him with her eyes before he sighed a little and said quietly: "I don't know what happened or how it happened, Twilight... I'm not saying it makes sense, but... look at me. The doctors keep telling me I cut myself up like this but how could I plant a hoof mark into my own face? How do you explain the fact that even while seeing Luna, the Scrivener Blooms of this world was small and lanky and I'm big enough to pull a freight car behind me if I wanted to?"

He fell silent, and Twilight looked at him quietly, then she shook her head slowly and said gently: "I never saw a stallion more dedicated than you were to Luna, Scrivener. You were doing everything you could to try and be better for her... opening up to people, taking care of yourself, and... well, we both know you never did that before." She laughed a little, and Scrivener smiled faintly, glancing down and earning a curious tilt of the head from Twilight. "What is it?"

"Just... the way I remember it... we always butted heads. We were never very good friends until..." Scrivener looked at the manuscripts, and there was quiet for a moment before Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly, drawing her eyes down to the stories.

"Scrivy... I..." She stopped, then looked up at him and studied him quietly for a few moments before she said gently: "You and I met after I visited Canterlot to see my big brother, Shining Armor."

Scrivener grimaced and began to turn away, but Twilight stepped quickly forwards, past the manuscripts, urging quietly: "No, just listen. I'm not trying to convince you of anything, I'm not... saying that I believe in or doubt your own memories or... stories or... anything. But listen to me for a minute, okay? Because this is what I remember..."

For a few moments, they were both quiet, and then Twilight smiled a little, bowing her head towards him as she said softly: "I remember I was heading up into the Castle to try and find my brother. I figured that I might try and see Celestia, too, and make my latest report on the magic of friendship to her in person... which was really always just an excuse to visit her for the sake of visiting her."

She laughed a bit, then shook her head slowly before continuing: "And then, as I was cutting through the gardens, I heard voices. I was... drawn to them, curious, and I saw Princess Luna and you. You were both talking so fast, like you two had your own language, going over old myths and legends..."

"She always loved them... all the old stories, from the ballads about Melinda the Sky Witch to any pre-Equestrian lore I could think of... even the silly stories we both knew were all lies about her own heritage. She loved stories... maybe even more than I did..." Scrivener murmured, and Twilight smiled a little across at him, giving him a quiet, encouraging look.

"Yeah. She did. And you two were so good together... I came over to see what was going on and... you two were such good friends. I was so glad to see it, and... the three of us, we all quickly became close friends. You..." Twilight smiled faintly. "You had a weird sense of humor, you were quirky, and you could be so... eccentric and kind of dirty... but somehow they were all good qualities in you. We argued but... we never fought, and I liked that."

Scrivener looked down and nodded slowly, murmuring softly as he stepped slowly towards her, studying her quietly. "When I... first met you, Twilight Sparkle... we didn't like each other very much. We'd argue and get kicked out of the library for it, we'd mock each other and bicker with each other, but... we became friends after Luna... took a quick and nasty revenge on some guards who tried to get between you two, and Celestia caught her. And we still argued a lot... but like you said... we argued, but we never fought."

Twilight nodded encouragingly again, and Scrivener grimaced a little as he lowered his head and the violet mare stepped forwards, smiling faintly at him. "See? There are lots of similarities, Scrivy, between... between what we both... remember. I'm not going to say I understand what it's like for you, Scrivy, but... keep that in mind while you walk around and see the real world, instead of the... the world you've been stuck in inside your head for the last two years. Maybe the memories will merge together, and you'll start to see... and accept... everything that's happened."

Scrivener sighed quietly, and then he looked moodily back and forth before Twilight lowered her head and asked impulsively: "Did you write anything new in the last while? I... I only have up to chapter sixty of your last story."

The stallion cocked his head curiously, glancing over at her and hesitating before he sighed a little and nodded, gesturing at his satchel. "Most of my notes are sent to storage after one of the attendants copy-edits them for you and Celestia..." He stopped, then laughed a little. "It's funny. That always made me feel both honored and a little pissed off. That I was allowed to write as much as I pleased... so long as everything was copied and collated for you and Celestia, and the team of shrinks you all hired to fix me."

Twilight smiled faintly at this, glancing down almost embarrassedly before she swept up the manuscripts and carried them over to a table, gently putting them down as she murmured: "Well, it lets us know more about you, Scrivener, and... about... what you think your past is."

She looked over at him hesitantly, but Scrivener only shook his head, replying softly: "Go ahead and say it, Twilight. You don't have to try and spare my feelings... my delusion, my fantasy world. My psychosis, since I choose to live in the sky house instead of just seeing it like neurotics do."

Twilight sighed softly, but she was smiling still all the same as she walked towards him, reaching up a hoof to gently rest on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes quietly. "Scrivener... I'm going to help you. Whatever it takes, I promise that I'm going to help you."

"It's a nice thought, Twilight, but... I don't think anyone can help me." Scrivener said quietly, glancing away with a faint laugh, and the violet mare studied him before he hesitated, then looked up and asked finally: "But why... do you want to? You have all your friends, after all, you have Celestia, and... you're very well-liked. Why would you go through this trouble for me?"

"Because we were good friends, and friends help each other out... because... I cared about you and Luna, and seeing you together. Because..." Twilight hesitated, then she shook her head and studied him quietly, murmuring softly: "Because Celestia asked me to keep an eye on you too, yeah. And I think you'd prefer to be here with me than in Canterlot under guard, wouldn't you?"

Scrivener grunted after a moment, looking down before he added finally: "But don't flatter yourself. Being the lesser evil isn't all that much to be proud of, Sparkles."

But Twilight only smiled, studying him before she said quietly: "It's funny. I never thought I'd be glad to see you being a jerk, but... here we are. Anyway, come on. You need to take your medication, and I'll make you something to eat."

"No, no. Let me make something, it'd be nice to make my own meal." Scrivener started towards the corridor, and Twilight sighed as she looked nervously at his back and followed, the stallion looking moodily over his shoulder at her as they headed towards the kitchen. "Look, I'm not going to try and kill myself. I didn't... I didn't give myself all these scars."

"Scrivener... even you have to remember..." Twilight began, and then she stuttered out when Scrivener frowned and looked over his shoulder at her. She quickly averted her eyes, but the stallion turned sharply around, frowning deeper now as he leaned towards her as she looked down and blushed deeply, then said quietly: "I don't want to upset you. Especially right now, while you're still adjusting..."

"Twilight... just... just tell me." Scrivy said finally, leaning forwards and looking at her apprehensively, and Twilight sighed quietly before she looked up and met his eyes.

"You did give yourself most of those scars." Twilight said finally, and when Scrivener frowned, Twilight shook her head and continued hesitantly: "It was when you found out what had happened... don't you remember? First you took off like a shot out of Canterlot, and the Royal Guards had to drag you away from the... where the train had crashed. And then a patrol found you on the road leading back to Canterlot, covered in blood. You... you had a knife, and you were screaming and raving and threatening everything that came close... it took four Guards to subdue you. That's why... why you were committed in the first place, don't you remember?"

Scrivener shivered a bit, but then he shook his head slowly, looking down and reaching up to touch his forehead. "But... but these scars are clearly... different from knife wounds. T-They can't be... and... no, no. It doesn't matter. I know what's true. I'm not insane." Scrivener looked up, breathing a little harder but quickly trying to reel himself back in, looking across at Twilight firmly. "I'm not insane."

"I never said you were." Twilight said gently, even as she hesitated for a moment... then she stepped forwards, asking quietly: "Let's try and put things out of mind, and just... have a nice meal together, okay?"

"Real food instead of mush." Scrivener muttered, and he nodded a few times as he sighed a little, bowing his head forwards. "Most days I just... didn't eat."

"I know." Twilight said softly, and Scrivener looked at her curiously as she took the lead to the kitchen.

They were quiet for a little while as they worked around Twilight's small kitchenette... and the violet mare found it unsettling how easily Scrivener found his way around, even though she couldn't remember if he'd ever actually been here. They worked side-by-side, occasionally bumping into each other... but Twilight felt like sometimes it was on purpose, and it made her smile a little despite herself. He clearly craved contact, touch... but just didn't want to admit it. He kept sneaking little looks at her, giving her little smiles, and it made her feel good inside... even if at the same time, she was a little scared of him, too.

He believed so fervently in these stories he had written... stories that could get so dire and dark and twisted, stories that included so many of her friends but all of them had ended up... twisted and dark. Stories about gods she had never heard of before, filled with complications and an undertone of... something she couldn't quite put a hoof on. And stories in which she had been written as being the adored third member of Scrivener and Luna's strange relationship, making her smile a little and shake her head slowly. It was such a strange idea... but she wasn't offended and didn't take issue with it, even though it made her feel little awkward, a little afraid, with the way Scrivener had written her, and him, and them...

She realized she was staring at him, and he was staring back, before they both quickly turned their gazes back to the counter as Scrivener went quietly back to putting together the salad. Then Twilight cleared her throat a little before asking finally: "Are you going to be okay sleeping in the back room? I'm... well, the doctor didn't want you left alone at all, but... I'm going to trust you. I... even if you're a little... you know, I know you wouldn't..."

"Yeah." Scrivener said finally, and then he shook his head and murmured: "I'll be fine, Twilight. I don't sleep much anyway. I may just stay up most of the night reading in the main room... if that's alright with you. I..." He stopped and looked over at her, smiling a bit. "I want to thank you a little more honestly this time. Being out of that place... it feels like being out of prison. Out of a bad prison, at that."

"What was it like?" Twilight asked quietly... and when Scrivener realized she was asking just about the mental facility itself, not about his thoughts, his so-called delusions, his 'illness,' he smiled a little and half-turned towards her.

"It was... lonely." he began slowly, and then he nodded to himself, dropping his head forwards as he murmured: "And it was cold. The ward I was in was... a secure ward, so the patients were all aggressive, all had... problematic tendencies that made the doctors and staff wary of us... they didn't like us, and they didn't care if we got better or worse, just that we stayed quiet. The nurses weren't pretty mares but large, burly earth ponies and ex-Royal Guard. They didn't have the time or patience to understand us... it was easier to wrap us in straightjackets and shove us around if we argued, easier to administer a dose of lorazepam than try to just calm down a patient having a nightmare or paranoid fit. But sedatives don't make the delusions and nightmares just magically go away. They just stop us from reacting to it for a little while... and while some ponies would calm down and that would be enough to stop the hallucinations... for others, it just made everything worse.

"You couldn't trust anypony. The pony beside you, talking coherently and quietly to you, might suddenly start throttling you because the voices in his head just told him you're the one who murdered his son. Another pony might be the nicest, sweetest mare you've ever laid your eyes on... but that's only because one of the guards is sneaking her the heroin she craves to stop the chills, the withdrawal symptoms, and worst of all, the never-ending guilt in her heart... but that same guard sometimes dangles the drugs in front of her to make her spill all the patients' secrets and... do things for him." Scrivener grimaced, looking moodily away as Twilight shivered a little. "And the doctors only care about fixing you. Not as if you're a pony or a person... like you're a broken part of the grand machine, like you're some test in school where you can try and try again, like you're nothing more than a logic puzzle. And if they start getting frustrated about how they can't fix you, how they can't solve this puzzle, they either throw a label on you they know and don't care is a lie, so they can then say it's completely your own damn fault you're not getting better even though they're prescribing you all the wrong treatments, or they pass you on to some other doctor, because misery loves company. The good doctors are few and far between... and usually end up locked up in the asylum with us."

Twilight Sparkle looked at him quietly, and Scrivener smiled a little after a moment, glancing away and murmuring: "Sorry. But remember, I might be bias too... I was one of the locked-up crazies and all."

"Yeah, but... I trust you." Twilight said quietly, and Scrivener looked almost surprised as he glanced up at her, then he closed his eyes and bowed his head towards her, honestly touched. For a few moments, there was quiet... and then Twilight hesitated before she turned back to the counter, playing a little with some of the ingredients that were still sitting out before she asked softly: "Was it all bad?"

"Nothing is ever... all bad. Even North Neigh wasn't all bad." Scrivener murmured softly, and Twilight looked at him curiously before the male smiled a little. "North Neigh is-"

"Where you grew up." Twilight said quietly, and Scrivener looked almost surprised as he nodded slowly before saying hesitantly: "You... you had a rough childhood. You were treated horribly by your parents, because... you're an earth pony, and they were pureblood unicorns, right?"

Scrivener nodded slowly, tilting his head a bit towards her before she smiled faintly and glanced back to the counter. "So some things are the same... your memories and reality do match up a lot, Scrivy. But you know, you're not... forty, fifty years old. You and me may be getting older but we're still... well... young."

"You don't say that with a lot of conviction." Scrivener laughed a little despite himself, looking at her quietly, studying her features: maturing, beautiful... for some reason, the word ripe rose in Scrivener's mind, and he hurriedly glanced away from her even as Twilight cocked her head curiously despite the faint blush that spread over her face. "But you and your friends... you all act younger than... I remember."

He quieted, looking down for a moment, and they finished preparing the food in silence: a rich salad, and muffins with jam. The two headed to the small table at the side of the kitchen in quiet to eat slowly, studying each other a little, both filled with thoughts and questions.

Finally, Twilight looked up as they neared the end of the meal, asking impulsively: "Are you attracted to me? Sexually, I mean."

"Wow, Twilight Sparkle, I can't see at all how your tact and obvious knowledge of romantic relationships could leave you without a special somepony in your life." Scrivener remarked dryly, and Twilight blushed deep red even as she glared at him... and perhaps the smallest bit of a smile twitched at the side of her mouth. "Why, because of my memories... or, as everyone thinks, the 'stories' that I wrote?"

"I just..." Twilight hesitated, then plunged onwards: "You write the romantic love between you and... and Luna... so well, you refer to her constantly as 'soulmate,' but you also include... me, a lot." She hesitated again, glancing up at him and asking quietly: "How can she be your soulmate but... you both... clearly show an... interest... in..."

Scrivener only smiled a little, then he looked down at his mostly-empty plate before picking it up and heading towards the sink, saying quietly: "Because we cared about each other, and that was all that mattered. Because it wasn't about sex... it was about being together, and taking care of each other. And besides... I was the one who was the extra piece there, Twilight. The slipped-in cog between everything that was supposed to be."

Twilight looked at him curiously for a few moments, and then she picked her own plate up to drop it in the sink as the stallion headed towards the corridor. But they were quiet, and it wasn't an entirely uncomfortable silence, even as they sat together in the main room and simply looked at each other, getting used to one-another and forming silent questions they both sought the answers to in the other's body language and gaze.

Eventually, Twilight smiled a little and glanced toward the window, looking out at the deepening darkness before she said softly: "I'm going to spend tomorrow with you, okay? We can get you a little more acquainted to things around here, and if you feel up to it... we'll go out into Ponyville, just a short trip to the bank, and maybe to the pharmacy to pick up your medication. You can get your financial situation in order and we'll... just talk, and get you settled in."

Scrivener smiled a little at this, glancing down and saying quietly: "I appreciate it. But don't... don't worry about me. I don't want to be a burden... giving me free room and board and getting me out of the asylum, it's more than I ever expected anyone to do for me, Twilight."

"Princess Celestia asked me to." Twilight glanced away before she smiled a little, looking over at him softly. "And it's not entirely free, Scrivener. I mean, once you're settled in, I would like your help with things around here... Spike is a great assistant and all, but you know archiving and Equestrian literature up and down, and I was hoping that you could help me pay for some groceries and a few repairs around here."

"Even in my own mind, I'm not rich, Twilight. Luna and I..." Scrivener started, then he cut himself off when Twilight looked at him softly, shaking his head and murmuring: "I mean, I don't have any money. As it is, I know that Celestia footed the bill for my stay in the asylum."

"It wasn't an asylum, Scrivy." Twilight smiled all the same, and then she said gently: "And Scrivener... Luna... Luna left everything to you in her will, including her personal treasury. You... you're not going to have to worry about money."

Scrivener looked up dumbly at this, frowning in surprise before Twilight softened, half-tempted to probe him further, but instead forcing herself to say quietly: "I'm going to head up to bed now... I'm... I'm trusting you, Scrivener, not to do anything too stupid, okay? And do you mind if I take the rest of your manuscript?"

"I... no, go right ahead." Scrivener said after a moment, gesturing quietly to his satchel. Twilight smiled after a moment and nodded, walking over to the bag, and Scrivener looked at her for a few moments before he bowed his head and said softly: "Thank you. I'm... Twilight, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know." Twilight looked up with a bit of a smile at the charcoal stallion, as she lifted a thick sheaf of pages free from the satchel with telekinesis, and then she hesitated before walking over to him and hugging him tightly. He returned the embrace, squeezing her close, and she felt the smallest of trembles run through his frame as they rested together.

Twilight lingered, and then finally pulled carefully away, looking up at Scrivener. He looked back down, and she reached up to quietly brush his mane back, saying softly: "Maybe take a bath or a shower, Scrivy. It might help you relax a little, and you're kind of a mess."

"Yeah. I know." Scrivener replied softly, and they studied each other for a moment longer before Scrivener asked finally: "Why are you helping me?"

"Because you're my friend. Because Celestia asked me to... because Luna would want me to, and you're... you keep her... there." Twilight said quietly, and Scrivener smiled faintly, bowing his head a bit before the violet unicorn finally turned, then she hesitated before looking over her shoulder and murmuring: "Goodnight, Scrivy. Remember to take your medication, okay? And try to get some sleep."

Scrivener simply nodded a little in return, then he rose a hoof as Twilight headed to the stairs at the back of the main room and made her way up them, watching her leave before he sighed softly and lowered his head, a shiver going through him as he murmured: "Medicine... I'm... I'm not insane."

All the same, Scrivener turned towards his satchel... then he sighed a little, walking over to pick up the bag and carrying it to a nearby table. He set it down and pulled out one bottle after another of pills... five in total. Two anti-anxiety medications, an antidepressant, an anti-psychotic, and an all-purpose sedative... the last, at least, was just in case he had a severe panic attack.

There were a few other bottles of pills in the bag, but Scrivener disregarded them as he opened the ones in front of him, mumbling under his breath. The anxiety medication he took first, chewing them up and grimacing at their bitter taste even as he used his tongue to paint his gums with the pills. Addictive behavior, sure... but it made the pills hit faster, among other things.

He dry-swallowed the antidepressant next, then looked moodily at the anti-psychotic: by now, Scrivener had learned that this kind of medication didn't actually prevent psychosis. All they really did, all they were really designed to do, was make someone feel either so horrible or so exhausted that they simply didn't have the energy to act out. That, or they simply didn't work at all... and Scrivener grumbled under his breath before he finally put the lids back on the medications, muttering: "I took most of them. Besides, I'm not crazy."

He shook his head, then shivered a bit as voices of doubt whispered through his mind, as they did more and more often these days. He knew what it must seem like, after all... clinging to the idea that these stories he had written out were all reality.

The stallion breathed quietly as he sat back in the chair, looking silently down at the medications before he dragged his gaze back and forth. This library felt so familiar and so different all at once... just like it had in the other layers of reality he had visited. That he was so sure was the truth, no matter how everything else... gnawed at him. No matter how many questions and doubts rose in his mind...

And Luna. He couldn't live without her, he literally couldn't live without her after she had bound their souls together... but Scrivener trembled at this thought, leaning forwards and resting his elbows on his table as he dropped his face in his hooves as he felt one of the cracks in his self-assurance pulse and widen a little as he whispered: "But then how am I here and... where... where's Luna..."

He breathed slowly through his mouth, thinking back. He thought of all the battles he had fought beside her, of the things he had witnessed, of their son Antares and adopted daughter Scarlet Sage... and he thought of the Nibelung, and the Strange Ones, and Discombobulation... and the Tyrant Wyrms, Clockwork World, and worst of all, grinning and callous Valthrudnir. But none of them existed here... he was told again and again that magic like he described didn't exist, creatures like he described were tales of fantasy, that he had been lost in his own mind for a very long time, ranting and raving and only at peace when he'd been allowed to frantically write his stories after... after he'd lost Luna...

Slowly, Scrivener pushed himself back in his seat, looking silently up at the ceiling as he whispered: "But it can't all just be a dream, can it? It can't all just be a story... that's impossible. And Luna has to be alive somewhere... she has to be. I know that she has to be..."

Scrivener shivered and hugged himself, then he sighed a little as he lowered his head to look down at the tabletop, murmuring: "Well, I'm out of the asylum, at least, so I... I can start looking into things. I can start looking up the old stories, figuring this all out. I know I'm not insane. I know I'm not. I know... I can't be..."

All the same, he shivered a little even as he pushed himself away from the table to begin looking over the shelves, worms of doubt twisting and gnawing their way through his mind as he wondered what was real... and what had been nothing more than a wistful dream.