(FR) A Very Lyler Christmas

prose: http://www.fimfiction.net/story/245069/6/the-lyler-archive/a-very-lyler-christmas

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>Normally you don't mind snow.
>You really don't.
>However on a day like today, you just want to strangle something.
>Outside, it's snowing harder than a pedophile in kindergarden.
>And today is the one day a month you take care of Lyler.
>This single job offers enough money to give you everything you could possibly need for a month.
>24 hours of pure hell, 12 times a year, but you never have to worry about money.
>Today was Hearth's Warming Eve and while you'd rather be spending the precious time with your mare friend, Twilight, you're-
>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
>Fuck.
>Springing into action, you leap to the kitchen.
>Lyler was rolling on the ground, writhing in pain, covered in your entire bottle of ketchup.
>"HELP ME ANERN. I'M DYING."
"You aren't dying."
>She stops, staring at you with wide eyes.
>"IT'S A MIRACLE!"
>Sighing, you turn away to your window.
>At least sulking  is helping pass the time a litt-
>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
>You turn back to the kitchen and find Lyler thrashing on the floor again.
"What."
>"I'M A BABY, ANERN!"
"Jesus Christ."
>"No, not him."
"Wait, wha-"
>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
>With a groan, you resign yourself to your task at hand, having to clean her up.
>After an hour and a half of trying to pick Lyler up, only for her to play the "limp noodle"  card to make things as impossible for you as possible, you gave her the third shower for the night and added ketchup to your growing list of shopping supplies.
"Okay, Lyler. What would you like to do?" you ask.
>She stares at you blankly.
"You know. Like, play a game?"
>She shakes her head so violently that it cracks twice.
>A shiver runs up your spine.
"Oh. Uh, okay. How about we watch a movie, or television or something?"
>"DO WE HAVE SEXY MOVIE?"
"No."
>"WHY?"
"The last person that did that got fired."
>"WHY?"
"Because you're not allowed to."
>"WHY?"
"Because the town said so."
>"WHY?"
"I dunno, I guess they don't want you to procreate."
>"WHY?"
"Because it would be terrifying."
>"WHY?"
>You sigh and place and hand to your face.
"Because the world can't handle how awesome it  would be if there were two of you," you say insincerely.
>She stares blankly at you,  silent.
>Then her ear twitches.
>She leans to the right.
>Squints her eyes a little.
>Then sits normal again.
>"WHY?"
"Why do you keep asking questions? "
"TO BETTER UNDERSTAND THE ACTIONS AND MOTIVATIONS OF OTHERS TO BUILD A BETTER SET OF SOCIAL SKILLS."
"Huh. Really?"
>She nods violently.
"That's... Kinda cool."
>"WHY?"
>You open your mouth to reply, but decide not answering is the best answer.
>Except it wasn't, because she began to shake uncontrollably from not getting an answer.
>You manage to settle her down by giving her a blanket and gentle head pats.
>You decide that the best course of action would be to put on a movie.
>At least then she will be quiet for more than 15 minutes.
>The only reason you say that, was because Lyler only liked one type of movie.
>Musicals.
>It doesn't come as a surprise to you that Lyler didn't get to join the other ponies when they all broke into random song.
>Lyler was generally removed from all major events.
>But, that's off topic.
>She loves Musicals because she gets to sing along with them.
>Except, Lyler's careful, angelic voice didn't quite know how to match the pitch of the musical.
>Or volume.
>Or timing.
>Or even  the words.
>In fact, when the movie's main protagonist, a princess who had the power to control snow, was getting ready to clean up winter in the final moments of the show, she began singing "Row your boat" instead of the holiday classic "Winter Wrap Up."
>Meanwhile, you silently hummed the tune under your breath, having already watched the movie five times this month.
>Shush you.
>'Iced Over' is a great movie.
>Deal with it.
>To be honest, this wasn't so bad.
>The real problem would have to be when you try to put her to bed in a few hours.
>Then, the real havoc begins.
>Of course, you'd also have to probably give her a bath.
>And not because of bed time.
>Just because she'd probably find BBQ sauce or something.
>Rising to your feet, you check the clock.
>9PM.
>Just eleven more hours of this shit.
>Heading to your window, your heart sinks.
>There is so much snow.
>Like, holy shit, Rainbow seriously fucked up this time.
>There is like a foot and a half of snow.
>And it's still pouring.
>Moving to your front door, you try to open it, only to find the snow is compressed up to your knees to the doorstep.
>Which is almost half of these ponies height.
>You close the door slowly as the dawning realization hits you.
>Lyler isn't just going to be here for 24 hours this time.
>She's going to be snowed into your house with you.
>The movie's credits start rolling as she begins clapping her hooves together with a happy smile.
>Your stomach rumbles and you sigh to yourself.
>Might as well eat some dinner and prep something with her.
>You head to the couch and sit down with your head in your hands.
>What in the hell are you going to do?
"Hey, are you hungry?" you ask.
>"TUMMY GURGLES."
"I'll take that as a yes. How's spaghetti sound?"
>Lyler walks directly up to you.
>You look at her curiously.
>She grabs one of your arms with a hoof.
>Lifts it up into the air.
>Then let's it go.
>"ARMS ARE HEAVY."
"I'm also going to take that as a yes."
>Rising from your seat, you move to the kitchen, where, despite having left Lyler in the other room, and she didn't follow you, she's already there.
>You've decided to not question it anymore.
>Reaching into the cabinet, you pull out a box of spaghetti noodles, then some sauce supplies from the fridge.
>"CAN I HELP?"
>You look at her with an expression of terror in your eyes.
"Uh. Sure."
>And suddenly, she's wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron.
"Uh, alright. Well the first thing we should do is prep our ingredients for the sauce. I know it's nothing special, but we got some tomatoes, onion, garlic, a little chili-pepper, and other seasonings. I'll get a little water boiling for the sauce, and you can slic-"
>On second thought, maybe we don't give Lyler a knife.
"Uh. You can... put the prepared ingredients into the pan."
>Lyler walks up to the ingredients on the counter and sniffs them.
>Putting a pan of water on the stove, you turn up the heat and turn to watch her.
>She raises her hoof into the air with a wide smile, then smashes all of the ingredients.
>The tomato paste and ingredients go absolutely everywhere.
>You futilely reach out an arm, but the damage is already done.
>"I SMASH THEM. THEY READY NOW."
"Well. Okay," you say, defeated. "Put them in the pan as I get out another pot for noodles."
>Lyler grabs the box of noodles and looks over them carefully.
>And by that, I mean she shoves them into her eye.
>Except, she's totally okay with it.
>Doesn't scream or anything.
>Putting another pot on the stove full of water, you motion to her.
>She can't possibly mess this up.
"Okay. Now. We need to put the noodles in the pot. Be careful, the water isn't hot, but we don't want to splash too much."
>She looks down at her box, then to the pot on the stove.
>Lyler nods with determination, then carefully takes the noodles from the box in one hoof.
>You watch in awe.
>Holy shit. She's doing it.
>She's actually doing it.
>Lyler takes a single noodle from the bunch and put it into the water.
>Then another.
>And another.
>And another.
>You turn away and walk to your liquor cabinet, not sure what you expected.
>Opening the cabinet, you stop yourself.
>No.
>You can't do this.
>Not already.
>With a sigh, you turn back to Lyler and ask her politely.
"Hey! Do you mind if I help?"
>Lyler beams at you and nods, her ears perked.
>Taking most of the noodles, you place them in the pot as she puts in her remaining five noodles.
>"DID I DO GOOD?" she asks.
"Yes, you did very good," you answer in exasperation. "Now then, all we need to do is turn on the heat."
>You turn the dial on the stove.
>"HOTTER."
>You look at her curiously and turn it up hotter.
>"HOTTER!"
>She stares at you intently.
>You turn the dial more.
>"MAKE IT HOTTER!!!"
>You stop turning the dial.
"No, it’s hot enough."
>"oh ok."
"Now all we have to do is wait."
>Lyler watches the pot with a big dorky grin.
>You take a step away.
>She doesn't move.
>You take three steps away.
>She doesn't move.
"Do you wanna do something else in the meantime?"
>"NUH-UH."
"Oh, uh. Okay."
>You set your egg timer and sit down at the kitchen table, grabbing a book to watch as she monitored dinner.
>And if there's one thing you have to hand to her.
>She's a fantastic guard.
>Lyler sat observing the pot for 10 straight minutes without even blinking.
>However, after 10 minutes, was a different story.
>The egg timer went off and-
>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
>You turned it off as fast as you could.
>Lyler promptly shut her mouth.
>If it only worked like that all the time.
>Grabbing a strainer from a cabinet, you drain the noodles out in the sink and set them aside.
"Now then, I think it's about time to stir the sauce. Would you like to-"
>Lyler materializes a spear from thin air and slams it into the pot.
>You push her out of the way as the spear pierces through the whole oven and sauce begins to leak into the inner workings.
"God DAMNIT!"
>Lyler looks at you oddly, her head tilted sideways.
"What the -ACTUAL FUCK- is your problem?" you scream.
>Her eyes open and she takes a step back.
"There's fucking nonsense. There's been days where shit gets outta hand and I've kept my mouth shut. I've cleaned you off when you get covered in the most vile substances I've ever fucking seen."
>Lyler's eyes begin to water.
"I'm so fucking tired of your bullshit! You just fucking destroyed my stove! MY GODDAMN STOVE! Do you have ANY IDEA how much this is going to fucking cost?"
>Lyler opens her mouth, but she can't say a thing.
>Your body's too fueled by rage.
>Every hateful thought you've internalized comes boiling to the surface.
"Ever since I've met you, you've made my whole fucking life an absolute nightmare. I dread every single time you have to come over here or see me on the street because the minute I see you, I know I'm going to fucking want to kill myself. Why can't you just be serious for fucking TWO MINUTES! TWO GODDAMN MINUTES?!"
>You fall to your knees and crawl up to her.
"What does it take?! Huh?! What does it take? PLEASE! Please. Just let me know so that when I get STUCK with you in this GODFORSAKEN house, that I can figure out how to not want to strangle myself."
>Silence falls in the house as she stares at you with tear filled eyes.
>You pant, completely overwhelmed by the rush of screaming and venting your anger to realize what you've just done.
>Her whimpers become stronger and more pronounced as her whole body trembles.
>She turns heel and bolts for the door, opening it wide and leaping out into the cold.
>The door waves open and closed in time with the gusts of wind from outside.
>You take a deep breath and straighten yourself up.
>Heading to the door, you slam it shut.
>Good riddance.
>Maybe now you can relax a little.
>You sit on the couch and turn on the television.
>The television station turns on to the Pony Christmas Classic "Fritz the Unicorn."
>You watch as Fritz tries his hardest to go mingle and play with all of the other unicorns, but all made fun of his misshapen horn.
>He tried his best to study in magic class, but every spell went horribly awry.
>Fritz made a few close friends, but was horribly teased by bullies.
>The scene that was playing was the big climax, when he overhears that one of his closest friend was only a friend out of pity for him.
>Of course, it's all just a big misunderstanding in the end, because his friend comes to care for him after he tries to run away.
>You sit on the couch, leaning forward and watching the movie.
>Then, you look outside your window to the raging blizzard.
>You sigh, and then shake your head, focusing on the television instead.
>She'll be fine.
>Ponies have thick fur.
>A silent moment passes before you look outside again.
>She's just a pain in the neck.
>You can always find a new job.
>Shutting off the television, you rise to your feet and head to your bedroom.
>When you open the door, you see a small, red wrapped box on your bed.
>Closing your eyes, you feel a massive pang of guilt in your stomach.
>You approach the box slowly, unsure of what you should do.
>A little tag under the bow shows "To: Anern, From: Lyler"
>Biting your lip, you undo the packaging slowly and open the box.
>Reaching inside, you pull out a small necklace, made from lime-green yarn with little elbow macaroni strung through it.
>A flutter in your chest radiates through your body when you see a small little paper heart in the middle of the necklace.
>On the paper heart is a stick figure green human and a green horse beside it on a little field.
>Turning it over, in green crayon it says "My Best Friend."
>You feel your arms grow weak, as your body trembles.
>What have you done?
>You have to find her.
>You toss the necklace onto the bed and dart towards your front door.
>Grabbing your coat, you toss on some snow shoes and tear the door open.
>The door slams into the wall from the force of the wind, but you don't have time to close it behind you.
>Leaping out into the cold, you scream out.
"LYLER!!! LYLER, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
>You jog forward, not seeing any sort of tracks in the snow.
>The entire world around you is a mixture of grey and white as you push forward in the snow.
>Your muscles strain against the wind with every step, and the wind whips and lashes at your skin.
>Your eyes sting and burn as each flake hits you.
>The clothes under your coat becomes sticky as your body sweats to try and fight the cold.
"LYLER!"
>This is your fault.
>You.
>She's going to die.
>And it's all your fault.
>Is it funny now, Anon?
>You killed a pony.
>A pony that considered you her best friend.
>Did you have a good laugh?
>I hope so.
>Merry Fucking Christmas.
>The End.


>No.
>You refuse.
>The thought that one day Lyler might forgive you fills you with determination.
>You push yourself deeper into the storm, when your gut sinks.
>A large pile of built up snow lies a few feet in front of you.
>Running up to the pile, you use your hands and arms to push as much snow off as possible.
>The seafoam green body of Lyra's sister becomes revealed.
>Ripping off your coat, you wrap her in it and lift her into your arms.
>Turning around, you push your aching body towards home.
"We're almost there, Lyler. Just hold on."
>Your muscles burn with each step.
>Snow fills your hair as you feel your body shake from the cold.
>The form in your body cuddles closer to you for warmth.
>You can do it.
>Push, Anon.
>You can make it.
>Do it for her.
>The light from your home comes into view.
>A sensation of hope fills you as you strain to reach the open front door.
>You leap inside and slam the door behind you.
>Heading immediately to the bathroom, you run a cold bath.
>You lay Lyler down on the cold tile floor and keep the coat wrapped around her as you gently shake her.
"Lyler. Lyler. You have to stay awake."
>She looks up at you with weak, lightless eyes.
>"Anon?" she asks.
"Yeah! Yeah, It's me, Anern," you say with tears in your eyes. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
>She closes her eyes and rolls away from you.
>"I'm sorry," she says with a raspy, sore voice.
"Don't talk... you'll hurt your voice. Just relax."
>Checking the water temperature, you ensure that it's room-temperature, so it won't damage her frostbitten body even more.
>Lifting her off the ground, you lay her in the tub as she grits her teeth in pain.
"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm so sorry. I went too far."
>She closes her eyes as her breathing becomes more regulated.
>She looks to you with a weak, goofy smile.
>"Did-"
>She coughs hard, her voice still weak.
>"Did I make you laugh? I just want to make you laugh," she chokes.
>Tears form in your eyes.
"Yeah. Of course you did. The spaghetti? Classic. I'm going to remember that as long as I live," you chuckle.
>She smiles and looks to the ceiling.
>"Good. I like making Anern smile," she says.
>You take her freezing hoof and hold it tenderly.
"Happy Hearth's Warming, Best Friend," you say to her.
>She looks back at you and smiles wide.
>Lyler clears her throat and blinks her eyes a few times.
>"HAPPY HEARTH'S WARMING, ANERN."
>She coughs hard as you pat her hand.
"Okay, okay. Just relax. You need to focus on feeling better."
>She nods and dips her head under the water, making bubbles using her mouth.
>You smile as you sit next to her, watching.
>You know, maybe Lyler really isn't so bad.
>Sure, she's rough around the edges, but she's one of the most wonderful, pure-hearted mares you know.
>Somepony you're proud to call, your friend.
>"I MAKE WATER YELLOW NOW."
>Most of the time