Scootaloo was in the middle of a dream about flying with the Wonderbolts when she woke with a start to find herself peeing.

It was still dark, and outside the rain was still pouring down and the wind howling. The time on her bedside alarm clock read 4:20am.

Her first instinct was to feel her sheets to see how wet they were, before she remembered what she was wearing. Running a hoof over her the front of her diaper, she could feel it was swollen and warm where she had just wet herself. The outside though was dry, and the plastic silky smooth to touch and a bit squishy. It felt pretty weird, but she had to admit it was a lot less of a hassle than a wet bed.

Her eyelids, still heavy with sleep, drooped, and she lay back down and soon dozed off again.

This time she dreamt about her parents. They were there with her, cuddling her and playing games together as a family. At one point, she was riding on her father’s shoulders, making zooming, flying, noises as he galloped and flew about the house for her. Afterwards, she wasn’t sure if any of this was a surpressed memory from when she was a little filly, or if it was just part of the dream.

By the time she woke again a few hours later, it was nominally light outside, though the sun itself was nowhere to be seen, hidden behind the thick, dark layer of storm clouds that hung over Ponyville.

She yawned, stretching out in bed, her diaper making a soft crinkling noise under the covers when she moved. It still feels comfortable, she thought. When she wet the bed, the sheets would normally go cold really quickly, and after that she normally didn’t like to stay in bed. This was quite different though, and the front of her diaper was still really warm.

She lay there for quite a while, just listening to the sound of rain on the thatched roof, and enjoying how cozy it was, despite the wet diaper, tucked up in her dry bedcovers, listening to the rain.

She couldn’t stay in bed for long however; her aunt didn’t care what time she got up for breakfast on weekends, but she’d agreed to meet up with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom at the CMC clubhouse by around ten, and it was already almost a quarter-past-nine.

Getting up wasn’t fun; she was stiff and sore all over with bruises from her crash-landing the day before, and the floor was cold under hoof as she clambered out of bed.

Padding over to her bedroom window, she poked her muzzle through the gap in the curtains and peered sleepily at the lane below her bedroom window. The ground had turned to muddy slurry overnight, and in the distance, and a small tree had been blown over outside one of the neighbours houses.

Slipping into some black socks to stay warm, she stood in front of her bedroom mirror, appraising herself and her new undergarment in the light of day. The diaper fitted her well, and she once again found herself drawn to the Wonderbolts designs, despite her reservations. The front of the diaper was clearly pretty wet; the swelling was easily visible, and there was a yellow tint showing through the diaper in the most heavily soaked areas. She turned around, looking over her shoulder to examine the rear of her diaper in the mirror. There was a wet patch at the bottom, but the rest of the back seemed mostly dry.

Undoing the tabs on one side of the diaper, she slipped it down around her hooves, letting it fall to the ground, before picking it up gingerly with one hoof, and disposing of it in her trash basket.

***

Mrs Adelia Hardcover, Chairpony of the Ponyville book club, was a library Patron with a capital P.

Twilight looked up from the novel she was reading, seated behind the issues desk, to be greeted by Mrs Hardcover’s concerned face frowning down at her through thick half-moon reading glasses.

“Miss Twilight,” Adelia said in a hushed voice, nevertheless managing to carefully emphasise the word Miss. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but those fillies over there are behaving most strangely! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they appear to have been watching us both for some time. It has quite put me off my reading.”

Twilight had noticed. The Ponyville Library was relatively quiet for a Saturday morning, the weather having kept most ponies indoors. Apart from Mrs Hardcover, a young couple from Fillydelphia had come and gone looking for guide books and local information, and a plump middle-aged mare was sitting in one corner, working her way through a small stack of well-hoofed romance novellas. And then there was them.

All three fillies were wearing black slacks and hoodies, with the hoods pulled up well past their ears, so that only the tips of their muzzles were visible poking out, with the rest of their faces in shadow. One of them was also wearing sunglasses, presumably for looks rather than protection, since it was dingy in the library a the best of times, and the sun had last been seen fleeing before the storm the night before.

They were sitting in one corner pretending to read a rather dense tome which they had hastily obtained from a stack of books waiting to be shelved. Every now and then, one of them would glance around the room surreptitiously, and then furtively scribble notes in a black pocket note pad. A couple of times, when Twilight hadn’t been looking, she could have sworn she had heard the click of a camera.

“Thanks Mrs Hardcover,” Twilight said patiently, putting on her best librarian’s face. “You go sit back down, and I’ll deal with this.”

Mrs Hardcover ambled stiffly back to the reading desk, making complaining noises about her arthritis. Once seated, she resumed pretending to read her knitting magazine, while watching the three fillies pretend not to watch her.

“What in hay are those girls up to?” Twilight wondered out loud, under her breath.

“Beats me,” whispered Spike, who had been curled up reading comics under her desk, “they’ve just been sitting there looking at that book for the past hour. Maybe they’re doing some research for school?”

“Since when did Cherilee assign homework on Equestrian macro-economics?”

“Or they’re trying for an economics cutie-mark?” suggested Spike.

Twilight rolled her eyes and sighed, “Doubtful. Let’s find out shall we?” she laid her book down, got up from behind the desk, and trotted over to the corner where the three fillies were sitting.

“Good morning girls!” she said brightly “Nice to see you reading! How are we today?”.

The library was illuminated brightly for a second, and a loud clap of thunder punctuated Twilight’s greeting, making the fillies jump.

Twilight glanced down at Sweetie Belle’s notebook, sitting open on the reading desk. It was hard to make out the filly’s flowery hoofwriting, but she was able to read the last entry: ‘1100 hours - Ekstensive ninja spying on T. Sparkle and other ponies at library has so far revealed no information about L.’

“Uh, we’re fine thanks Ms Twilight,” said Applebloom nervously.

“That’s good to hear. How are you finding Tiltenhoof?”

All three fillies looked thoroughly confused. “Tilten-who?” asked Scootaloo.

“Baron von Tiltenhoof,” Twilight explained cheerfully, “he wrote that book you’re reading: A general treatise on the projected net benefits of interventionist monetary policy on the domestic currency markets of Equestria and her principalities.”

“Oh, right, yeah. It’s... pretty... good I guess?” hazarded Scootaloo, her eyes glazing over behind her sunglasses.

“I…I really like its font?” contributed Sweetie Belle.

“It’s a seminal work”, continued Twilight. “If you’re interested, we also have Friedpony’s critique of Tiltenhoof’s general treatise: ‘The path to freedom: the argument for free market reform and the deregulation of Equestria’s money supply.’ I can ask Spike to find it for you if you want to borrow it.”

“Actually ah... we kind-of... um, need to get going!” suggested Applebloom hurriedly.

“Oh yeah,” said Sweetie Belle, “I promised to go help Rarity with...some...things...” she trailed off.

“Me too,” finished Scootaloo.

That seemed to do the trick, thought Twilight, as she returned to her desk to continue reading her book. The fillies had already hastily returned Tiltenhoof’s Treatise in the shelving pile, and were now busy packing up their things. Goodness knows what those three are up to. I’ll have to have a word with Rarity and Applejack when I see them, she thought.

As it turned out, that was a lot sooner than expected. Before the fillies had had time to leave, Applejack burst into the library, panting and drenched from head to hoof. She was followed by Rarity, who also looked concerned, but somewhat less dishevelled, sporting a fashionable ensemble of rain-coat, boots and matching umbrella.

“Twilight, have you seen Applebl...?” Applejack trailed off as she noticed her sister and her two friends over in the corner of the library, still packing up their saddle bags.

She ran over to Applebloom, and gave her a crushing hug, much to the filly’s surprise and embarrassment. “Applebloom, girls, I’m so glad you’re OK! I was so worried.”

Applebloom looked up at her sister in alarm, “what’s up sis?” she asked, wide eyed.

“The storm... the dam upstream collapsed, and the river’s a-floodin’ real bad. When I couldn’t find you, I was worried you girls might have been a playin’ down there by the river near your clubhouse, and been swept away...” Applejack stopped, blinking back tears of relief.

Applebloom was staring, not used to seeing her sister cry. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo were just standing around, staring at their hooves, and trying to look like they weren’t dressed like ninjas.

Rarity placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder, “there now darling, I told you that everything would be just fine.” She turned to Twilight, “She came looking for the girls at my place, and I said I thought Sweetie had mentioned she was going to the library this morning, so we came straight here. I do hope they haven’t been any trouble?”

“No, of course not,” Twilight assured Rarity, deciding that this wasn’t the time to bring up Sweetie Belle’s notebook.

“Is everything OK?” asked Applebloom.

“The farm’s taken right weathering,” said Applejack, dabbing at her eyes with the silk handkerchief Rarity had offered her, “a big part of the lower orchard is flooded, and it’s still raining cats and dogs. Ain’t none too good for the apple trees having wet roots. Big Mac is down there now with Caramel, laying out sandbags, but I’m not sure they’ll be able to make a difference in time.”

“We should help,” said Twilight matter-of-factly.

“Absolutely,” agreed Rarity, “so long as it’s not too muddy of course.”

“Well, thank you both kindly,” Applejack said, “I can’t say no. We’ll need every able-bodied pony we can get if we’re gonna stop the floodin’ before it wrecks the harvest, and there’s a danger if we don't stop the floodin' that the land could slip and we could loose half the trees in the orchard.

“I’ll be right with you, just let me grab my clipboard and quill!” yelled Twilight, already running upstairs.

***

Applejack set a fast pace as they cantered through the rain towards Sweet Apple Acres, with Twilight and Rarity hot on her hooves.

Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom tumbled along behind them as as fast as they could. Normally Scootaloo would have given them a lift, but the muddy ground rendered her scooter useless, so she’d left it at home today.

“That was kind-of boring!” wheezed Sweetie Belle as they ran. “We didn’t even find out any secrets!”

“Do you think Twilight suspected we were spying on her?” Panted Applebloom.

“Nah, don’t think so” Sweetie Belle panted, “she seemed more interested in what book we were reading.”

“Yeesh!,” Scootaloo made a face. “That Tiltenhoof guy needs to learn how to write snappier titles if he wants anypony to read his books.”

They had reached the outskirts of Sweet Apple Acres. The farm had clearly taken a punishing in the storm the night before, and the old hanging sign at the farm gate had come unsecured at one end, and was dangling by the other, squeaking and screeching forlornly as it flapped about in the wind.

The flooding had turned the lower third of the orchard into a muddy lake, that looked to be two or three hooves deep in some places. Away in the distance, they could see the trunk of their treehouse, thrusting up out of the water. The actual clubhouse was still above the waterline with the ramp-steps descending into the murky depths. Of the jump they had constructed below the tree the day before, there was no sign.

So much for our dirt jumping cutie marks, Scootaloo thought, but she didn’t say anything.

“I can’t believe this happened so quickly!” breathed Applebloom, “None of this flooding was here when I left home this morning.”

“Come on girls... lets get out of this frightful rain!” Rarity called back.

Following the grown-up ponies, they trudged towards to the hay barn at the top of the lower orchard, the makeshift headquarters for the sandbagging operation.

A ring of sandbags, stacked two high, had been set up around the barn to protect the hay inside. Granny Smith sat on a folding chair in the doorway, barking directions to anyone who would listen.

The barn having been secured, Big Mac, Caramel and a few other ponies were now working feverishly near the bottom of the orchard to construct a wall of sandbags parallel to the river bank, to help prevent further flooding if the river level rose further.

***

“Ow! Watch it, that’s my hoof!, complained Sweetie Belle loudly.”

It did not take long for the three fillies to establish that they weren’t very good at helping to move sandbags, being barely being able to lift one off the ground between the three of them.

This put them in company with Rarity, who had instead decided to make herself useful by heading back to the farmhouse to make everyone hot tea and coco.

Twilight had reluctantly left her clipboard in the barn, and was helping Applejack load up a cart with sandbags to take down to the river bank. Applejack was in a fretting mood, and the fillies figured it best to stay well back, lest they get in her way.

Applejack had hitched herself to the cart, and was about to head down to the river with a fresh load, when she looked up to see Big Macintosh approaching, on his way back up to the barn for more sandbags.

“Big Mac! The girls were fine. I was just heading your way with more...” she broke off, noticing for the first time that Big Mac was accompanied on foot by a bedraggled, tired looking Rainbow Dash. “What the hay is SHE doing here?” asked Applejack accusingly.

“She’s helping, AJ,” said Big Mac calmly.

“No she’s not!” declared Applejack adamantly.

Dash cleared her throat. “I’m real sorry about flooding AJ. It was supposed to be a small controlled storm, but these punk clouds slipped away from us and went rogue! We were out all night last night trying to bring them back under control. Half my weather team are in hospital right now with lightning burns...”

“Save it Rainbow, I don’t want to hear it. We don’t need your kind of help.” Applejack turned her back on Dash, and without saying anything more, headed off towards the river bank, pulling the laden cart behind her.

Rainbow Dash was looking down at the ground in front of her, blinking back tears. It was the first time any of the fillies had ever seen her cry.

Big Mac reached out a hoof and placing it on Rainbow’s shoulder, looked like he was about to say something apologetic, but Dash beat him to it.

“Sorry,” she sighed. “I bucked up... I should go”.

She shrugged off Big Mac’s hoof, and flew off.

Scootaloo stood watching as her idol flew off. She was surprised to find she was choking back tears of her own, and she wasn’t sure why.

After a few moments, Twilight and Big Mac exchanged glances.

“I think we’d better go have a word with AJ,” suggested Twilight.

“Eyup,” he nodded. “Girls, stay here with Granny”.

“Wow” breathed Sweetie Belle, when Twilight and Big Mac had left, leaving them alone with Granny Smith, who had fallen asleep.

“That wasn’t fair!” Scootaloo gulped. “The flood wasn’t Dash’s fault”.

“She didn’t mean it,” said Applebloom quietly, as much for her own reassurance, as her friends. “She’s just in one of her moods.”

“Rarity and Applejack have had lots of arguments,” offered Sweetie Belle, with forced cheerfulness. “But they always make up in the end.”

But Scootaloo wasn’t listening. Her stomach felt tight and knotted, and her heart was pounding. Something about having seen Rainbow Dash reduced to tears had made her feel confused, or maybe angry?

“I’m going after Rainbow Dash” she announced suddenly.

“We can all help look for her,” suggested Applebloom.

“No. Thanks, but I want to be alone for a bit,” Scootaloo stuttered. Then she too ran off, into the rain.

***

Avoiding Applejack, and the rest of the grown-up ponies working down by the river, she cut across the orchard, wading hoof deep through the mud and water until she reached the belt of hedge-rows that served as wind-breakers and marked the edge of Sweet Apple Acres.

Once she had cleared the farm, she headed back toward the river, heading upstream while looking out for Dash, whom she’d last seen flying in this direction, towards the Everfree Forest.

The river-banks were steeper here, and though the river was swollen and churning, it wasn’t overflowing the embankments.

She was walking into the wind, and a steady patter of rain streamed down her face, mixing with her tears, and running off her nose, and down her muzzle. Shivering, she pulled the hood of her black ninja-spy track-top up, but it was already soaked through, and offered little additional warmth.

After walking for another fifteen minutes and finding no sign of Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo came across the ruptured stone weir. Normally the river would have diverged at the weir, with half the water being diverted to the stream that flowed through the middle of Ponyville, and the other half flowing on through Sweet Apple Acres. However, a couple of boulders had been dislodged by floodwater upstream, allowing the full force of the river to flow directly towards the farm.

Having more or less given up hope of finding Rainbow Dash for now, Scootaloo collapsed down under the partial shelter of a willow tree.

A familiar wave of self-loathing washed over her. She was pathetic... she told herself. Worse than useless. She was a stupid filly with no parents, who pissed herself at night like a little foal, and had to wear diapers. She still couldn’t fly, when most other pegasai her age had mastered it years ago, and she didn’t even have her cutie mark yet!

A flash of lightning, followed by a loud boom of rolling thunder broke Scootaloo out of her melancholy inner diatribe. It took a while for her to regain her composure, but eventually she ran out of tears. Wiping her face dry with her hoof, she stared absently into the turgid river below, her body trembling involuntarily from the cold.

She wasn’t really sure why she had let herself get so upset about Rainbow Dash and Applejack’s argument. True, Rainbow was the closest thing she had to a sister, or in fact any surviving family member apart from her Aunt, and she felt that Applejack was being unfair blaming her for the flooding.

It was more than that though. Rainbow Dash was normally so outgoing and confident and brave and… awesome! Dash was everything Scootaloo desperately wanted to be herself, but which, secretly, she was worried she could never achieve. So it had been quite shocking to see her mentor upset, crying, and to realise that even Dash wasn’t invulnerable. It was also the first time that she had truly felt that maybe Dash needed her help, rather than the other way around.

Suddenly Scootaloo she knew what she had to do. If she could fix the dam herself, maybe Applejack would calm down, and stop blaming Rainbow Dash for the flooding, and Rainbow Dash could stop blaming herself.

She briefly considered going back to get help from her friends, so they could try for their dam-building cutie marks, but this was something she felt she had to at least try doing alone.

Scootaloo rose unsteadily to her hooves, looking about for useful materials. Helpfully, an outcrop of small boulders was strewn about the bank overlooking the weir, left over from its construction, and subsequent repairs over the years. Most of them were too heavy for her to move, but a few of them looked like they might be manageable.

After some straining, she managed to move one of the boulders a little way. It was heavier than the sandbags she had tried to move earlier, but less awkward to move. Once dislodged, it was not too difficult to roll it into a position overlooking the weir below. Giving it a final shove, she sent it rolling down the embankment, and splashing into the river just upstream of where the weir had been breached. So far, so good; all she had to do was roll enough boulders down, and eventually they would plug the hole in the weir, and reduce the flow.

It took about half an hour of hard labour to roll another four small boulders into the river. Stopping for a minute to survey her handiwork, she was disappointed to see that the river’s flow hadn’t altered all that much. She figured it would take at least as many rocks again to make much of a difference, and she was fast running out of boulders she could move by herself.

The inside of her muzzle was dry, and her stomach had been growling ominously, but she ignored it, pressing on. She was panting and sweating profusely, but at least she no longer felt cold.

The next smallest boulder she could find was close to the river bank, and slightly up stream from the weir, under the shade of a gnarled old ash tree. The stone was half the size of Scootaloo herself, and covered in moss. She braced herself with her her hind hooves against the trunk of the ash tree, and her back against the boulder and pushed against the it as hard as she could. The moss made the boulder slippery, and she had to keep re-positioning herself, but eventually the rock started to move.

Scootaloo had just managed to manoeuvre the boulder into position above the weir, and was preparing push it over the edge when something moving fast in her peripheral vision caught her eye, and she looked up, startled.

She was just in time to catch sight of a multi coloured blur flying fast and at altitude, disappearing over the tree line towards the Everfree Forest.

Dash clearly hadn’t seen her, and by now she was probably well outside of shouting distance, but even so, Scootaloo clambered up on top of the boulder she’d been pushing, and waved her front hooves wildly in the air and shouting in case Dash happened to come back her way and notice her.

At least that was her intention. As she was waving, she suddenly lost her balance on the slippery boulder, and toppled off, rolling towards the edge of river bank. Flailing, her hooves struggled to find some purchase, but came away empty. Unable to break her momentum, she toppled backwards over the cliff, and plunged down towards the raging torrents below.

She landed in the water just upstream of the weir. Winded from the fall, she gasped for breath, and found herself inhaling water as she fought to stay above the surface.

She could feel the current sucking her under as it sped her towards the weir, and for a few moments, she felt a rising sense of panic as the cold water closed in all around her, and she couldn’t breath. Then the current dashed her against the weir, and she hit her head on a boulder, and everything went black.

Author's Note

Sorry for the ridiculous wait for this chapter; I've had a draft written for quite a while, but I've been busy with work and things and never quite got around to finishing it till now. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part; the next chapter will have more diapers I promise!