The Wee Hours That Count Most
When the alarm clock rang at exactly five in the morning, the sounds of its exclamations felt like artillery bombardments to Rumble's ears. At first he moved not a single muscle, with only storms suddenly raging around the inside of his brain.
Today was the first day of school, and he wasn't getting up for anything—or so he thought.
"Urrrrgh..." he murmured, seeking further refuge in his pillow, where he planned on staying for at least another hour. Unfortunately, his partner was the one who had set the alarm.
Rumble kept an eye open as Scootaloo got out of bed in a zombie-like daze, the eye half-lidded, just enough to make sure she wouldn't sleep through the alarm.
"Hey," said Rumble drowsily, "why'd you wanna wake up this early?"
But within second Scootaloo had ducked into the bathroom and started brushing her teeth. Just from the sounds of the bristles rubbing hurriedly up against teeth, Rumble could tell Scootaloo was rushing herself. Too much to talk. Too much to even turn on the bathroom light first.
Not getting out of bed so much as slipping out, feeling barely existing in his legs for the moment, Rumble went for the kitchen and turned some lights on. With summer on its deathbed, the sky was still dim outside, and while pegasi were verstaile creatures, they still preferred to see what they were doing. The first thing to do was to make a pot of coffee, otherwise known as the most important step to regaining consciousness in record time. "Hey," Rumble called again, grinding a bag of beans for the pot. "You at least wanna shower first before heading out?"
The sink in the bathroom stopped running.
Scootaloo peeked out into the hallway with her toothbrush still in her mouth. "Yeah, duh," she said in a muffled voice before retreating back into the bathroom.
Rumble sighed and sensed a disturbance in his stomach. It was time for breakfast. Normally his gut wouldn't be telling him to shove stuff inside it until around six, but then Rumble never had to get up so early before. The kitchen was still something like a mess from last night's dinner. The plates has become mismatched once again, all the forks and knives had been horrifically thrown into a pile, and only Princess Twilight knew where the spoons had gone.
Still, within minutes Rumble had concocted meals for two ponies, assuming they were desperate enough to consume such things. On the bright side, he had enough reserved eggs for scrambling—as it seemed an unspoken cultural habit for pegasi to have scrambled eggs.
When Scootaloo finally came out, she didn't look too much different from before. Of course, Scootaloo was the kind of mare who had a rough-and-tumble look about her, no matter what time of day it was. There was an uneasiness in her step, though, that Rumble was quick to notice, even in such a state where he felt like somepony had wacked him over the head with a blunt object and stole his money.
"Feeling better?" he asked.
"I think so, yeah." Scootaloo sat opposite of him and immediately went for her food. She gulped everything down so fact that Rumble had wonder if she could taste anything.
"You don't have to be at Friendship School till seven, right?"
Scootaloo stopped in an instant. "I know, but I wanna get there early."
Rumble rubbed his eyes in an agonized fashion. "You know you don't have to."
"I know," she said. "It's just..."
But she said nothing more. Instead she went back to showing her breakfast little in the way of mercy, which only agrivated Rumble more. There was a choked silence between them, in that kitchen, in that apartment, in an otherwise inconsequential part of Ponyville, in the wee hours of the morning.
"You're stressed right now, huh?" Rumble finally inquired.
"What? No I'm not," she protested. "I'm fine right now." Yet as she said this, her fork shook ever so slightly in her grip, a grip which was normally much more determined.
"Yeah, okay," said Rumble sarcastically. "I totally believe it. I mean, it's just the first day you'll be teaching kids in what's not like a training environment or anything like that. Totally real." His eyes seemed to creep closer to hers, despite not actually moving. "Your career could totally end before you've even—"
"Shut up!" she cried. "You're not helping!" She took a mug of coffee and got ready to gulp it down, much like with her food, before saying, "Forgot to put creamer in?"
Rumble blinked in mild confusion. "Oh right," he said. "Sorry." He got creamer for both of them, plus some sugar for Scootaloo to hopefully get her in a better mood. "Still kinda new to me, the whole coffee thing."
"I can see that," she said, a smirk threatening to appear on her lips.
"Thinking about it," as he stirred his coffee with a recently recovered spoon, "I don't think I ever saw my big brother drink coffee. I don't know how he does it. When Wonderbolt stuff needs doing, he just gets up and does it. Never heard him complain about any of that stuff, and that's you know he's tough."
Scootaloo simply frowned before taking a sip.
"The only time he ever said anything bad to me about becoming a Wonderbolt was when he was a trainee, and he didn't know if he was gonna make it. He would come out and tell me about it, me being the annoying kid brother and all, but I'd pester him about it and he's talk about some real problems with me. I didn't understand a lot of what he was talking about at the time, though. Now those were the days, right?"
"You were kind of annoying as a colt," she said in a half-serious tone.
"Totally," Rumble agreed. "But I like to think I got better." He took to rubbing his face to get some feeling back into them, not even bothering to think about the fact that he looked like a homeless stallion. "I feel like crud," stating the obvious.
Ignoring his remark, Scootaloo said, "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course!"
There was an awkward pause, until she said, "Do you think I'm ready to be a teacher?"
Rumble almost spat out his coffee. "What? Obviously. I mean, you've asked me this before, and every time I said 'yes,' so I'm not sure what more you'd want from me on that front."
"It's just that—" searching for the right words— "Today's the day. Like, the day. I hd this day run through my head so many times, and now that it's here I'm not entirely sure what to do." She took a deep breath, as if she were on a hostile planet and desperately needed air. "And... I don't know if I'm really cut out for it. I keep thinking about how I can get the job done, but every time I try to reassure myself the pressure just keeps building up inside, so..." She gave Rumble an uncertain look. "Am I talking too much right now?"
"Naw, you're good." At this time, Rumble was finally starting to wake up, and a part of him wanted to get more out of his girlfriend, just like how he used to pry Thunderlane for honest discussion. He smiled quite subtly at the thought. "It's perfectly natural to be stressed on the first day of school. That's how it was when we were foals, and now it's like that again, just—you know—on the other end of business."
"Okay, at least there's that." She seemed to calm down a bit, but then said, "I'm being perfectly honest right now, I'm kinda scared about it. Going in there, having to remember so much, having to guide all those kids who aren't much worse off than me. Look at me, I feel like I was a blank flank only yesterday, and that was like ten years ago!" Taking another deep breath, she continued with, "And it's not like I can go to Rainbow Dash for advice on how to teach a class, because as much as I love her, she's not exactly—y'know—"
Rumble raised an eyebrow at that. "Wise? Patient? Fit to teach anything that doesn't have to do with flying?"
"Sure, let's go with that." She let what was left of her food go cold. "And hey, if I just took her word I'd only be reading Daring Boo books for the rest of my life."
"Still need to get the next book in the Silver Wing series," Rumble quipped.
"I'll get to it!" she cried out jokingly, before a sense of dread creeped back into her voice. "Anyway, at the same time... after all this time of helping others get their cutie marks, I'm not sure if I can take a whole class like this." She bit on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood from it. "Being a teacher would be like being a parent, but like much worse. And I'm not even looking forward to taking care of one foal, ya know?"
"I've said this before, and I'll say it again," he replied. "I agree with you on that."
An uneasy silence passed between them. There was barely enough room in the apartment for two ponies, never mind three.
"But look," said Rumble, "you've helped other ponies like this before, even if all those times were outside a classroom." His lips took on a bittersweet smile. "You helped me when I needed it, even though I acted like I didn't need anypony."
Something like a memory flashed in Scootaloo's mind, and she too began to smile. "You really were something as a colt. Acting the way you did. A lot's changed since then, huh? Except for the fact that you still bring out that side of you every now and again," she said half-seriously.
"Yeah, I know," Rumble replied, almost embarrassed. "But the important thing is that I was a blank flank too, and I was so scared of not liking what I'd get that I figured it was best to resist cutie marks altogether. So I did what I did, and... yeah, not my finest hour. You taught me something, though, in what you did, and I'll never forget it."
"Yeah?" she asked. "Memory's a bit fuzzy to me right now. Remind me," with a smirk.
"You and the other Crusaders decided to put together an obstacle course that was similar to what the Wonderbolts were doing—but not nearly as bad, obviously. And it looked like a lot of fun, and the other foals in my club joined, one by one. I remember feeling crushed on the inside, every time a member crossed that line in the dirt and went to your side, until finally it was just me." A hitn of sadness glimmered in his eyes. "Just me, all by myself. Can't remember ever feeling so alone before. But you know what I did? When I finally gained enough courage?"
"You crossed that line?"
"Yep," he said, the glimmer of sadness gone. "And since then I've never regretted it, except that single spike of pain immediately after I'd crossed that line. It can hurt a bit to make that kind of decision. It's the kind of the thing that just happens, and ya just gotta go with it. Now, I'm not super-smart or anything, but I think you're in that kind of spot right now, where there's a line you have to cross to get what you need. You just don't see it."
"Right..." Scootaloo toyed with her hooves. "How do I know I need to, though?"
"Maybe you don't, but why not take a chance on it? Just because you can't see the line doesn't mean it's not there. Heck, I had to cross a line to get my job, and I don't regret that either." He then added, "Most of the time."
"Huh," said Scootaloo. "Maybe you've got a point there, Rumble. Put a lot of thought into it? Sounds like something you'd rad in a high-brow book."
Rumble just shook his head. "No, it's something I remember from when me and my big brother would have our talks. Something he said to me. Can't remember the exact words, but that was the gist of it." He tried for a moment longer to recollect all the things he had said to Thunderlane, in those years now gone by, but he quickly learned to let go of such bygone things. "Think you'll be okay with heading out?"
"I'm a little more confident about it now," she said. "Not entirely sure, but I can deal with that."
"I can give you a goodbye kiss on your way out," said Rumble teasingly.
Scootaloo's cheeks filled with the slightest and loveliest shade of red. "That'd be cool."
