Flying Dreams

Scootaloo soared across the sky high above Equestria. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her outstretched wings as she started her decent, gliding down towards a cluster of rain clouds that required marshalling. Reaching them, she alighted on the sturdiest looking cloud and looked down. Far below to her starbord wing lay Ponyville, its buildings glinting in the late afternoon sun. It seemed a shame to break-up the run of good weather, but this shower had been planned for some time, and weather breaks like this were required to prevent drought.

Having taken her bearings, the orange pegasus took off gracefully, climbed a little, then banked around, positioning herself behind the group of clouds. Onces satisfied with her positioning she started flying towards Ponyville, pushing the clouds in front of her. The clouds weren’t hard to move, but even so, by the time she had them in position over Sweet Apple Acres she was hot and dripping with sweat. Flapping her wings to maintain balance and altitude, she positioned herself in front of the lead cloud and gave it a good buck, causing it to start raining softly. Scootaloo watched the silver droplets fall to the ground, the rain looking invitingly refreshing to the tired young pegasus.

Her job done, she flew down towards the ground on a trajectory that took her directly into the path of the rain shower. The autumn sun had heated the clouds, and the rain was distinctly warm. She could feel it’s warmth washing over her body, and she savoured the feeling, allowing herself to relax as she became drenched in life-giving rain.

Gradually, the young pegusus awoke. She could still feel the wet warmth between her legs, and it took her a few moments to figure-out why. “Horsefeathers,” she mumbled to herself, as the realisation dawned on her that she had wet the bed. Again. Drawing back the covers she assessed the damage; her Wonderbolt pajamas were soaked, and there was a large wet patch in the sheets below where she had been lying. by the look of it, she had managed to empty her entire bladder this time, before waking up. She sighed wearily; this seemed to be happening a lot lately, whenever she had flight dreams.

“Scootaloo... breakfast!,” her Aunt calling cheerfully from outside her bedroom door, startling her. Cursing under her breath, the filly drew the covers up to her neck in case her Aunt decided to enter. “OK Auntie, I’ll be right out,” she yelled back.

Satisfied by the sound of her aunt’s receeding hoof-steps that she wasn’t about to have her room invaded, Scootaloo slipped out of bed, and stood in front of the mirror, examining herself miserably as she stripped out of her soaked pajamas. Why do I have to have such weak wings... and an even weaker bladder?

After stashing the wet pajamas under her bed, she pulled up the bed covers to hide the large wet patch in the sheets. Now that she was an older filly, she was expected to do most of her own washing, and so-far at least she had been been saved the embarassment of her aunt finding out about her problem.

Her stomach grumbled, making her temporarily forget her embarassing problem. Putting her problems aside for now, the little filly left her room and went to take a shower before breakfast.

It turned out to be a long day at school. First period was spelling (really not her forte), followed by maths (also not her forte), and after lunch, Equestrian history. Cherilee was an engaging teacher, and Scootaloo usually quite enjoyed her history lessons (at least the interesting bits about battles and knights and dragons) but her mind wasn’t on her school-work today. As often happened, she found herself staring out the classroom window, watching the clouds drifting by in the hope of seeing Rainbow Dash or one of the other weather ponies out on manouvers.

The last period for the day was gymkhana, and Scootaloo made up for her earlier inattention by applying herself exta hard, excercising on the wing trainer machine.

After school, she hung out with her fellow crusaders for a while, just loitering around town and chatting until Applebloom announced she had to run off and help with chores before being grounded. Scootaloo went as far as carousel boutique with Sweetie Belle, and then parted company, riding her scooter towards home.

***

Arriving home, Scootaloo headed back to her room, but froze on entering. Her bed covers looked conspicuously tidy; much tidier than the haphazard state she had hastily arranged them in that morning. She pulled back the covers - fresh sheets. The little filly turned bright red realising that her bed wetting was no longer a secret.

“Scootaloo.” Her thoughts were interupted by her Aunt, who had appeared stealthily in the doorway to her room. “I was doing a load of washing anway, so I thought I’d change your sheets,” the older pegasis said gently, “do you want to talk with me about it?”. Scootaloo took one look at her aunt, and then looked back down at her bed. Then she burst into tears.

Her aunt came and sat next to her on the edge of the bed. Wrapping one wing around the crying filly, she said quietly, “it’s OK dear, lots of fillies your age still wet the bed - it’s not something you need to be ashamed of. How long has this been going on?”.

Scootaloo sobbed, burying her face in her auntie’s wing before replying quietly “Since mom and dad... .” She trailed-off, her whole body shaking.

“That’s very normal Scootaloo, you’ve had a really tough time lately - I know it can’t be easy.”

Scootaloo nodded slightly, but said nothing, blinking back tears. Her aunt pulled her closer with her wing, holding her tightly in a warm hug, and rocking her niece gently until the little filly finally stopped sobbing, and her trembling subsided.

“Is it happening often?” her aunt asked her gently.

“Not every night. Maybe a couple of times a week, sometimes more,” Scootaloo admitted reluctantly.

“We don’t have to do it right now, but we’ll need to talk about what you want to do about this,” said her aunt tactfully. “Would you like me to book an appointment with the doctor?”.

Scootaloo shook her head emphatically this time, “Please don’t - this totally sucks - it’s too embarassing”.

“Thats understandable. But we need to do something about it, otherwise you’ll just end up wrecking your mattress”.

The little filly looked up at her aunt with tearful eyes. “But what can I do? I’ve tried to stop doing it, but it keeps happening”.

“I know dear” said her aunt, giving her niece a friendly squeeze. “I’m sure it’ll end up stopping sooner or later on it’s own accord. We just need to make it less of a pain to deal with in the mean time”.

“Like how?” asked Scootaloo, unsure what her aunt was suggesting.

“Well honey, maybe we need to consider you wearing diapers to bed”.

“DIAPERS?”, Scootaloo was shocked. “But I’m not a baby!” she blurted out, horrified.

“I know you’re not Scootaloo, thats why I’m trying to make this your decision, but you are wetting your bed, and we’ll need to do somthing about it. Diapers really aren’t that bad you know, they make them for fillies your age as well, they even make them with nice patterns for girls.”

“I hate patterns for girls!” moaned Scootaloo.

“Well, we can get you boys ones if you prefer - up to you. I think they have them with Wonderbolts designs”.

Scootaloo found herself thinking about what Wonderbolts diapers would look like, and then started to blush as she noticed her aunt smiling at her with a satisfied look.

“It’s only a temporary fix of course dear, but it would mean you didn’t have to put up with wet sheets every night”.

The little orange pegasus hung her head in resignation.

***

That night, Scootaloo lay in bed, sobbing quietly to herself. Her aunt had said she would order some diapers the next day, but in the interim, she had given Scootaloo a thick fluffy towel, in the hope that it would spare the mattress the worst, should she wet herself again tonight. It felt bulky and strange, doubled up, and tucked between her legs, though not as strange as she imagined a diaper might feel.

The filly was dreadfully embarassed at the prospect of having to wear diapers, but she was also surprised to find that she felt a little releived that she no longer had to hide her bedwetting problem from her aunt. Her aunt had taken good care of her since her parents had passed away a year and a half ago, and it felt good not having to keep secrets from her.

After a few minutes of restless thoughts, she finally drifted off to sleep, and dreamt of flying.