The Chase

Bucky Bitters struggles to escape the airborne affections of Derpy Hooves after a chance encounter caused them to bump noses together. His real mistake was trying to comfort the mare after the snoot-bump. Little does the poor stallion realise that their meeting was only the prologue to a journey that will change not only his life, but the lives around him forever.

This story is a sequel to The Catch


108. 108

Most of his herd was sleeping, and Bucky took comfort in seeing them at peace. One by one they had dozed off, Derpy being the last of them, and he watched them as they all settled in. There were two distinct piles on the bed. Two groups that existed as one herd.

Lyra and Bon Bon were on the sofa beside him, talking in low voices to one another as Bucky stared into the flames of the fire. His remaining eye glittered in the firelight, and his face was pensive.

“Bucky?” Bon Bon said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Yes Bonnie?” he replied.

“I am to send you to bed the moment you begin to look tired. And no working in the lab tonight. Derpy and Berry Punch both made me promise,” Bon Bon said.

Bucky groaned. He had made plans. His ears splayed out sideways as he grumbled wordlessly and Bon Bon gently prodded him in the side.

“No grumbling,” Bon Bon insisted.

He gave the mare a reproachful look and slumped over in a pout.

“Lyra, he is just as bad as you are,” Bon Bon huffed as Bucky gave her the stinkeye.

“So I can’t go to the lab and work, I can’t sleep because I’ve already snoozed through most of the afternoon, and all I can do is sit here and think about how badly I want to screw somepony,” Bucky muttered.

Bon Bon closed her eyes and shook her head. Lyra realised that Bon Bon was silently counting to ten just like she usually did when Lyra had done something to upset her. Lyra tensed, and waited for the scolding that was sure to come.

“Bucky, what has gotten into you? You… you… there was time when you would have been mortified at the very idea of saying such a crass and vulgar statement,” Bon Bon said in a low voice.

Lyra slumped. So much for the scolding. It just wasn’t fair. Bon Bon was going entirely too easy on Bucky, and Lyra could not help but feel a little miffed at how everything was playing out.

“I’ve changed,” Bucky whispered. “I’ve realised what is important in life. Two of them are are on the sofa here with me, and the rest of them are piled in the bed over there.”

Bon Bon felt herself blushing as she thought about Bucky’s words. “I am very flattered Bucky,” she whispered.

“He sent them away Bon Bon,” Bucky murmured.

“Who sent what away?” Bon Bon inquired, her eyes narrowing in concern. She reached out and touched Bucky gently, stroking him softly.

“Sombra. He sent away his foals. He sent away his family. He wanted to keep them safe. But they weren’t there to keep him safe. And there was nopony left that he trusted enough to screw,” Bucky replied.

Bon Bon bit her lip and tried to calm herself, telling herself that Bucky just wasn’t himself at the moment. She reached up with her foreleg and brushed her mane away from her face, the fire made her feel warm. At least, she hoped it was the fire.

“Screwing is very important,” Bucky continued in a low whisper. “It makes foals. It reaffirms our love for one another. It builds trust.”

“And it feels good,” Lyra quipped.

Bon Bon glared at one unicorn and then the other.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “It feels good too,” he added.

“Bucky, I am slightly worried about you,” Bon Bon whispered as she lightly leaned on Bucky.

“We unicorns isolate ourselves too much from life. We don’t act like ponies. We hold back too much. We send our foals away. And we go mad. We go mad because we lose touch with being an equine,” Bucky stated. “We forget how to laugh,” he grumbled.

“Well, some unicorns,” Bon Bon interjected.

“Sombra forgot what life felt like and the killing couldn’t be stopped. Perhaps things would have been different if he had somepony to screw. Somepony to distract him,” Bucky’s eye fell on the pile of mares in the bed. “Someponies,” he corrected.

“Stop using the word ‘screw’ Bucky!” Bon Bon chided in a soft voice.

“We have to release somehow,” Bucky continued. “Lots of screwing keeps us busy. Gives us release. If not screwing, then killing. An endless state of war and constant magical release. Still results in madness, but it is a lucid madness. You’re just kill crazy. But no screwing and no endless state of war?” Bucky asked of nopony in particular. “You are forced to just hold it all in. Everything. All of this magic and no way to let it go, and it poisons your mind. It makes you crazy.”

“Bucky, stop, you’re scaring me because you are ranting and making sense,” Lyra pleaded.

“The unicorns in Canterlot, they’ve stopped screwing. And there is no endless state of war to give them release. So they sit in their towers trying to hold everything back. We’ve turned to art and music as a substitute for creation. We focus on holding everything in and letting it out in regularly scheduled releases, careful releases, but we were never meant to work that way… we’re equines,” Bucky said with a maniacal cackle that punctuated his words.

“Bucky,” Bon Bon said soothingly.

“We’re meant to laugh and play. Do things on a whim. Be spontaneous. Do things when the mood strikes us,” Bucky said.

“Bucky, please, you are ran-”

Bon Bon’s words were cut off as Bucky’s lips closed over her own. Bon Bon felt herself go limp in his grasp. The kiss was warm, loving, but also seemed to have some boundaries because there was no tongue. Bucky pulled away with a wet smack.

“Love you Bonnie,” Bucky whispered breathlessly.

Bon Bon struggled to sit up on her own and fell over on Lyra as she pushed herself away from Bucky. She fanned herself with her hoof, feeling rather hot and flustered.

“How long has it been since you two have been muzzle deep in one another? I know that getting some privacy around here must be tricky. So how about you take Lyra down to the lab and make her scream your name over and over?” Bucky suggested. “I’ve soundproofed the whole thing.”

Bon Bon lifted her head and looked at Lyra, who was looking back at her with a needy look. She then struggled to sit upright and tried to compose herself. She leaned over and kissed Bucky lightly on the corner of his mouth, stroked his face tenderly, and then gave Lyra a meaningful prod.

Bucky watched as the two mares slipped away, going out the door, and then he was by himself. He felt extremely pleased with himself. He wanted them to be happy and they needed time with one another, time he suspected that they had not had in a while.

He sat in the silence, pondering the changes in his mind. The peat bale in the fireplace crackled and popped and the firelight created flickering shadows on the wall. He heard a rustling sound as something moved in the bed.

He saw Sentinel extract himself from the pony pile. The colt moved stiffly, trying to flex his wings without stretching out the burned skin. He disappeared behind the privacy barrier and Bucky found himself looking away. He gazed into the fireplace, watching the flames.

Several minutes later, Sentinel crawled up onto the sofa and sprawled out.

“Hurting much?” Bucky asked in a low whisper.

“It hurts a lot,” Sentinel admitted. “But I can’t sleep anymore. I want to be awake for a while. Please don’t make me drink,” the colt requested.

“Sit with me for a while Sentinel,” Bucky said.

“I saw everything,” Sentinel said in a haunted whisper. “Even as I prowled around the castle trying to avoid the wolves, it was like I could see through your eyes as well,” he explained. “I felt everything too,” he added.

“I am sorry Sentinel,” Bucky whispered soothingly.

“He said I wasn’t fit to be your son,” Sentinel whimpered as he began to snuffle. “That hurt more than when he cast spells at me,” the colt stated.

Bucky tried to swallow the painful lump in his throat. He lifted Sentinel carefully in his magic and then eased the colt into his careful embrace, trying to not touch him along his withers. He placed one foreleg under Sentinel’s backside and the other around the back of Sentinel’s neck, above the burn, and held Sentinel to his barrel, while Bucky rested his back against the sofa. He could feel Sentinel’s tears on his shoulder.

“That isn’t true Sentinel. Don’t you believe that for a second,” Bucky whispered.

“He said I have the bloodline of a common cur,” Sentinel sobbed.

Bucky closed his eye and tried to hold back a moment of rage. He could feel it in his horn, manifesting as magical pressure.

“That doesn’t matter Sentinel, now hush,” Bucky whispered. He could feel the colt sobbing. He sat there with his eye closed, feeling an odd mixture of rage, pity, love, and sorrow.

He felt a bit startled when he felt another warm body ease in next to him on the sofa. He opened his eye and turned his head to see into his blind spot.

“Sorry if I scared you,” Derpy apologised.

“I’m sorry if we woke you,” Bucky whispered.

“A mother tends to wake up when she hears her foal crying,” Derpy said as she leaned on Bucky and carefully touched Sentinel with her snoot. She reached out carefully with her wing and wiped the wetness away from Bucky’s cheek. “Where are Lyra and Bon Bon?” she asked.

“They’re having a private moment with one another in the lab,” Bucky replied.

“Oh good,” Derpy said as she continued to try and comfort Sentinel, who seemed inconsolable. The pegasus made made soft cooing sounds into Sentinel’s ear, causing the tufted ear to flicker and twitch.

“You are my son and my squire. In that order. You are my son first and foremost. And you are to never forget that,” Bucky whispered.

The colt made no reply, but buried his face into the crook of Bucky’s shoulder and neck.

“Lots of ponies will say that words can’t hurt you, but they can,” Derpy whispered to the colt. “I heard what you said. Those words were heartless and I know they hurt you.”

Sentinel lifted his face away from Bucky and peeked at Derpy with one eye.

“Ponies tease me about my eyes and because I am clumsy. And when I feel hurt about it, there are ponies who say even worse things like “words can’t hurt you” and that I am stupid because I can’t ignore what other ponies say about me,” Derpy whispered tenderly.

Bucky leaned over and planted a kiss on the grey mare’s cheek.

“Those words really hurt me more than anypony will ever realise, because I believed what ponies said about me, and I kept everypony away from me, and I hurt myself,” Derpy admitted. “When I met Bucky, I didn’t think anypony would ever love a clumsy oaf like me. But there he was,” the mare stated in a soft voice.

Sentinel squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, wiggled around, cried out from the skin on his back stretching, and then he  wrapped his forelegs around Derpy’s neck. He squeezed.

“Make no mistake, you are our son. Every mare in this herd is your mother and we all love you. Bucky is your father, now and forever, and nothing anypony says will ever change that. And I know that he will do anything for you,” Derpy said into the colt’s ear. “Anything… because he would do the same for Dinky or Piña.”

Sentinel quieted in the embrace of his parents, the occasional shuddering snuffle escaping him as he nestled into their bodies.

“I am done being the big tough colt for a while,” Sentinel whispered. “This feels nice,” he admitted with a sigh.

“I never thought I’d be doing this,” Bucky confessed.

“Doing what?” Derpy asked in a low silky voice. She sounded pleased.

“Being a father. And this is planting me right in the thick of it. Usually, you become a father, you have a little foal, and you get to learn about being a parent as a foal grows up. You start off with little things, like feeding one end and wiping the other end and move on to more difficult things,” Bucky whispered.

Derpy smiled and stroked Sentinel over his cutie mark.

“But I got plunged right into the hard stuff right away and I am so worried that I am going to mess up,” Bucky confessed in a low strained whisper. “The girls. And now Sentinel. And seeing Sentinel like this has me confused,” Bucky said.

“Let me guess, you thought that little colts were somehow tougher than little fillies?” Derpy asked in gentle tones.

“Yes,” Bucky confessed. “Sentinel seemed so durable.”

“All foals have fragile hearts. Even you,” Derpy said.

“Me?” Bucky questioned.

“You are a big foal,” Derpy insisted.

Bucky scowled. “Maybe I am,” he acquiesced. He leaned over and pressed his snoot into Derpy’s ear. “This foal needs more time with your teats,” he whispered salaciously.

“I heard that,” Sentinel grumbled.

“Sorry Sentinel, like I said, Bucky is a foal,” Derpy said apologetically.

The trio lapsed into silence and after a long while of just enjoying their closeness, Bucky realised that Derpy had fallen asleep. He could feel Sentinel’s warm body against his and the soft inhalations and exhalations the colt made.

After sitting in the dark for what felt like hours, with Derpy and Sentinel pressed against him sleeping, the door finally opened. Lyra and Bon Bon returned, both of them grinning ear to ear.

“Have a good screw?” Bucky whispered.



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