Brothers part II

>This night's dreams are filled with restlessness
>Recovered memories from today are imposed over the memories that were once there
>In these dreams, pony and human form both contend for their place in your memories
>They grow increasingly more bizarre, faces melding to muzzles and back again, none of them distinctive in their features
>In the morning, you wake in a cold sweat
>The bitterness and anger is coming back, as per usual for pre-coffee mornings
>But along with it comes fear
>Are these your memories?
>Were they really recovered?
>Is your life until now an intricately fabricated lie?
>...
Who am I?
>Those three words haunt you
>Your breakfast is delivered, and once again, it is a bowl of flowers
>Today, it has come with some porridge
>...
>They can't even put in brown sugar?!
Bastards...
>As you eat, you reflect on yesterday's forced therapy session
>Actually, something is oddly off
>You remember being drugged, and then put in a chair
>And then...
>Nothing
>Just being led back to the cell in a dazed state of confusion
>Suddenly recalling things that you have apparently forgotten
>But...
>Did you ever really forget?
>Are these memories real?
>You know you had dreams about them just this night, but already, the are slipping away
>All you are left with is a hollow fear
>And a question
>Who am I?
>...
>Moments later, the guards come
It's time for your next session
Monster
>Another adds
>...
What. Did you just say?
>Instantly the guards look nervous
>None of them say anything
>So you speak for them
You think I'm a monster?
>Your voice is dead flat
Well this monster wants no part of this place, much less "therapy"
>They start to come closer, but you hold out a hoof (still a rather foreign thing to do versus holding up a hand)
And if you come any closer, I will beat the living shit out of you
>And for good measure;
Again
>Recalling last time, you prepare yourself to use tactics different enough to not be expected
>Nobody moves for a solid five seconds
>Then the guards advance
>And you are a pony...Man...of your word
>So you wipe the floor with them
>But you forgot about something
>That damn therapist and her dart gun
>Once again, you feel woozy, and are easily led down the corridor into an office
>Quickly you find yourself unable to focus intently on anything, but somehow you don't mind
>It's like being in a trance
>Though it feels a little familiar
>Then the therapist mare starts talking
>You don't really know what she said, but somehow you feel prompted to answer
>You start to talk about your life
>As you finish segments, her voice triggers things to be remembered more...
>Accurately
>Somewhen in there, you must have fallen asleep
>Because now you're awake
>And everything about what happened before sleeping is a hazy mystery
>But this doesn't concern you now
>You aren't in the cell
>At least, not the one you were in yesterday
>You seem to be in more of a dungeon setting
>With a set of cells across from you
>One of which seems to hold someone within
>You don't pay it much attention
>Morning grumpiness isn't as strong as usual
>In fact, it's more paranoia
>Dreams had plagued you again last night, and more of your life is now a mixed jumble of indistinct faces and ponies
>It makes you afraid
>Afraid that something isn't right
>That you might not be who you think you are
>Ad when you think about it even a little, a pulsing headache starts up
>And you would give anything to feel otherwise
Please... God please.... make it stop
>Your headache grows as you futilely try to sort through your identity
>The best you can manage, between the pulsing pains of your head, is a split camp
>Who you are, and who you think you are aren't quite matching up
>And the realization scares you more than anything
>You find yourself willing to give anything to make them match up and stop this madness
>You hardly even notice when your breakfast arrives
>You don't even threaten the guards
>The therapist looks concerned, and ends up giving you some medication
>That helps
>Helps a lot
>So much that you find yourself in a hazy dazed state
>Just lucid enough to remember going to therapy again, and coming out knowing more about yourself
>You also remember being put back into your cell

>Dreams came and went, and another morning arrives
>And with it comes a headache worse than yesterday
>It's like something is pounding your brain, and your brain is futilely trying to fight back
>You can hardy manage to pick through your breakfast
Please, god... Somepony... Make it stop
>You think to yourself as you fight through the pain and eat
>Glancing at the cell across from you, a pair of large green eyes is regarding you with idle curiosity
>It only lasts for a moment, and then they turn away, facing the wall
>Next comes the guardsponies to take you to your next session
>They are still hazy, but then again, almost everything is now
>But you can recall some more about today's session
>There was a purple unicorn taking notes
>You had gone through your life, telling bout yourself
>The most you can recall is that they shared notes, fascinated by something
>But that's all
>You've become rather numb, lost in yourself
>Rather, your own identity
>Something isn't right anymore...


***Session reports: Personal notes section***
>Session 1
The device seems to work just as intended. Subject recalls select memories mentioned during the process.
Dream analysis from Princess Luna has shown little promise
>Session 2
Today marked the start of guiding he subject through his life, hopefully out of the false reality he has fabricated for himself; was moved to royal sister's own dungeon, hasn't interacted with other prisoner
Luna's Dream analysis still holds out nothing for or purposes
>Session 3
Subject developed a migraine this morning. Under medication, his responses to is repressed memory treatment are somewhat improved, though slightly less effective. Unicorn Twilight Sparkle has joined to take note of the fantasy reality he's created
>Session 4
Subject's migraines persist. Miss Sparkle has gathered the notes she desires
>Session 5
Subject seems plagued by migraines. May be the result of the coping mechanism from the incident being removed
These migraines have made Luna's dream analysis impossible
>Session 8
Migraines still steady, subject has started to show signs of depression. The coping mechanism is well on its way to being removed
>Session 18
No major changes in progress. Subject is currently in a state of severe depression. He is being fed forcibly
>Session 26
Subject is making significant progress, despite depression. He has remembered much of his real life.
>Session 30
Using pictures, subject has begun to recognize ponies by face from his life.
Side note, press has picked this up again
>Session 34
Something has changed recently, apart from the headaches going away (while on less medication). He reports feeling like the middle pony of two personalities
Guards say he has started talking to the other prisoner. relationship unclear
>Session 39
By all accounts, Smoky Bolt should be ready to re enter society. Except for the recent influx of migraines. They have been leaving the subject paralyzed on some occasions
Depression still present
[spoiler]End of report up to current time[/spoiler]


>Through splitting headaches and depression, you've made it through a now weekly 50 sessions of therapy
>Who you are and who you thought you were are both battling for control
>When not dealing with thee pain, you lounge around, feeling down
>A couple months ago, the prisoner across from you started talking to you
Can you stop being so damned depressed all the time?? You're making me feel sick
>Were the first words he said to you
>Over the following weeks, you have come to know him
>He's not a pony, for one
>He's some bug-like pony that feeds on emotions, especially love
>At some point, he became your friend
>Your only friend
>All the guards, the therapist, and he others still look at you like a freak
>You still don't know if you deserve it
>You can't quite come to terms with killing somepony
>But he understood how you felt
>Quite literally, actually
>In fact, he's become like a brother to you
>You've opened up to him, telling about the other you, who is a "human" and how your own life memories are still not as defined as some of those memories
>the whole time, he would nod, ask simple questions
>He would sympathize with you, and generally make you feel better
>And in turn, he would tell you of his home (when the guards weren't around)
>To him, his whole race live like siblings
>They are linked by mind to each other, and strive to help each other
>they can disguise themselves as regular ponies, to gather food for the hive
>He was one of the unlucky ones
>He was caught, and made out to be some dastardly villain
>Even as he tells you, the guards occasionally try to tell you that he's just trying to win you over for his evil plans
>But you believe him, not them
>Not all caught changelings get treated like this, but with the recent royal wedding incident, they took him alive
>Trying to grill information out of him
>But he'll never go against his own family, and you admire him for that
>His presence is the only thing making suicide not worth it at this point
>But today, of all days is different
>You've reached the conclusion days ago, but didn't want to accept it
>It would mean an entire world, skill set, and culture gone, imaginary or not
>But it was the only way
>The only way to hold on to your sanity, which is and has been slipping away
>Being eroded away by the waves the inner conflict created
>The very same force that causes constant headaches and depression
>But you also didn't want to do it because of him
>He who you've come to call brother (as he tells you all his siblings back home. The have no need for names)
>You've been afraid that he wouldn't want to talk to you again
>And that could destroy you
>But at this rate, that's already a possibility
>So you've used your intellect to devise an escape
>You've seen the outside on your trips to the therapy room
>And you have an idea that just might work
>And all it needs is the napkins you've been hording
>...
Brother....
>You whisper
I have a plan...