"I hate this."

Ponyville was under siege from millions of tiny snowflakes, the entire town slowly being enveloped by an unyielding torrent of cold at the command of the thick cloud cover put into place by its own weather team. The world was cast in a dull grey as Celestia's sun barely penetrated the storm clouds, the town's vivid cornucopia of color hidden under a blanket of fresh snow, giving Ponyville the impression of a blank canvas, just waiting to again be given life by a distant spring's warmth.

Fillies and colts peppered the streets and surrounding landscapes, the air filled with laughter as they ran, played, built snowmares, and enjoyed a day full of archetypal winter activities, blissfully free from Cheerilee's lesson plan. You couldn't envision a better example of a picturesque winter day.

I spat in the snow, smirking at my menial victory as it melted.

A chill bit at my coat, and a quick application of magic brought my scarf closer around my neck, the warm glow of my horn providing a criminally brief respite from the winter wind. Snow upset me, and winter reminded me of home, bringing back memories to the surface that I had worked hard to stow away. Thoughts of a time I'd tried very hard to put behind me, yet could never truly forget.

The thought of the past, coupled with another burst of winter wind caused a chill to run up my spine and I instinctually shivered violently, causing a small, until then unnoticed buildup of snow on my back to come flying off, the menial remainder that stuck to my coat quickly falling prey to my body heat and melting, soaking it thoroughly. The sensation was about as pleasant as one would expect.

I did my best to curb any verbal articulation of my disdain, lest any nearby children hear me. My first instinct was to go home and waste the rest of the day in a booze induced stupor, but it was still too early for a drink; Even I had some semblance of standards. My gaze drifted for a moment, before settling on the vague silhouette of Sugarcube Corner in the distance.

"Well, I did say I could go for some coffee..."

I picked up the pace, breaking into a light canter as Sugarcube Corner came closer and closer, the thoughts of a warm, perfectly prepared Pinkie Pie brew spurring me onwards.

The rattling chime of the greeting bell punctuated my arrival as I threw open the door with more force than was necessary, shutting it behind me with similar speed as I entered, sighing in relief to have escaped the sharp chill of winter behind four walls. I took a moment to shake off the last vestiges of cold clinging to my coat and loosened my scarf, draping it over a coat rack by the entrance to dry off. I didn't even bother turning around before beginning my order.

"I'm gonna need the biggest, meanest Prench Vanilla you can throw at me, Pinkie. It's absolutely frigid out there."

"Well, I'm not exactly Pinkie Pie, but I think I can manage to get you a large coffee just the same."

I spun around, cheeks flushed from more than just the cold weather. "My apologies, Mrs. Cake! I just assumed that Pinkie would be at the counter."

The plump Earth Pony gave me a smile that was nearly warm enough to undo the effects the chilling weather. "A safe assumption to make, nine times outta ten. Pinkie does love working up front. She's currently indisposed at the moment however."

"Is she sick?"

"Pinkie? Sick? I'm not sure if that's even possible. No it's just the opposite. She's out playing with Pound and Pumpkin. Seemed like she was more excited about the snow day than they were."

I chuckled. Knowing Pinkie, that hardly surprised me.

"So how about you, Rhyme? Enjoying the winter wonderland?"

I scoffed. "You'd be hard pressed to get me to have fun in the cold. Never was one for the winter time. The sooner it’s warm again, the better, in my book."

Mrs. Cake nodded. "Well, I'd have to agree with you there. One of the reasons I like staying open on days like this.” She let the coffeemaker do its thing, and walked over to the oven, opening it slightly with a soft smile. “These tend to keep the house nice and toasty."

She closed the oven and made her way back over to the counter, preparing the drink with expert craft, and emptied a sizable amount out of the brew and into a massive coffee mug before starting to add some toppings.

"So what brings you out on a day like today? Errands?"

My smile waned a bit as I recalled my earlier trip. "Just...checking up on a friend."

Mrs. Cake got the message, suddenly becoming more somber. "Oh...how is she?"

I sighed. "Not too well."

Mrs. Cake seemed to pick up on my lack of enthusiasm on the topic and decided to drop it, instead finishing up the preparations on the drink in silence.

"Anything else I can get for you, dear?"

I paused for a moment, considering if I should bring her back a little something in an attempt to brighten her spirits. After a few seconds, I decided against it.

"No, that'll be all."

She presented a perfectly prepared, positively massive Prench Vanilla, topped with whipped cream and chocolate bits.

"I hope you don't mind, dear. I'm not as liberal with the whipped cream as Pinkie Pie."

I couldn't help but immediately take a sip. The warmth of the drink traveled down my throat and emanated through my entire being, curbing the majority of my winter induced discomfort almost instantly. I let out a contented sigh. Four years in Ponyville, and it still hadn't yet spoiled me to the confectionary perfection that was Sugarcube Corner.

I took another sip and smirked. "Don't let Pinkie hear this, but I think curbing the whipped cream might just be a plus in my book, Mrs. Cake."

The older mare stifled a laugh as I took a third, larger sip of the best non-alcoholic beverage to grace my palate in a long time. I grabbed my scarf and it began to rise from its resting place, enveloped in a blue aura, then quickly descended back to where began. The thought of having to face the cold again so soon didn’t bode well, and spurred a sudden change in plans. I decided to instead take a load off and enjoy my drink in the comfort of Sugarcube Corner. Mrs. Cake noticed my hesitation and let out a small giggle before returning her attention to a batch of pastries in the oven. Unable to contain an eye roll, I continued to work on my coffee. Mrs. Cake hummed a happy tune as she went back and forth from glazing some otherwise finished pastries to checking the ones baking in the oven, stopping only when the random customer wandered in; usually kids clamoring for hot chocolate.

After a few minutes, a timer went off and Mrs. Cake jumped, quickly dropping what she was doing by the counter and reached into the oven, taking out the finished delectables with nothing but a thin square of heat resistant fabric protecting her mouth from the intense heat. The pan was swiftly deposited on a baking shelf behind her and she refocused on the customer who was put on hold, working the register with a forehoof while finishing the order with her muzzle. A quick flick of her neck and the drink was delivered, perfectly balanced on the tip of her nose, and she waved goodbye to her latest patron as he made for the door.

Sometimes I had to wonder how Earth Ponies managed.

Mrs. Cake looked up from her work and caught me playing spectator. "Do you need something else, dear?"

I smiled. "Not at all. Just admiring your dexterity. Sometimes I take my horn for granted."

"Ooh...you flatter me. Years of practice is all..."

A thought seemed to strike the baker as her eyes suddenly lit up. "Speaking of flattering...I had a customer come in earlier today who was looking for you! I dunno how I could have forgotten. I had let him know I'd tell you right away if I saw you, too."

I sighed, already knowing where this was going. "Ugh...I already told Caramel yesterday that it would have to be this cold in Tartarus before I waste my afternoon in a snowball fight with him. And from the sound of it, Sass sounded equally as interested." I huffed. "Really, that stallion can be such a child sometimes..."

Mrs. Cake raised a hoof to her chin. "I don't think it was Caramel. In fact, I don't think I've seen him around here before."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Mrs. Cake nodded. "He was quite the handsome fellow, very well spoken, and terribly polite. Doled out compliments just like you just did, that's what reminded me. He looked like he was wealthy, wore a very expensive looking suit, you don't see stallions dressed up like that around here all that often."

My breathing became more labored as she continued.

"Come to think of it, he looked a lot like you too! Similar coat color, a bit lighter though, and a very similarly colored mane. Though he wore his a lot better. No offense dear, but you should seriously think about doing something with that mane of yours..."

My heart pounded in my chest as the blood in my veins began to match the temperature outside.

“Mrs. Cake...you’re certain that this stallion looked like me? Did he mention his name?”

“He didn’t stay very long after getting his coffee so I didn’t catch his name, but yes, his resemblance was very striking."

“I just have one more question: Did he have a Trottingham accent?”

She nodded, and I rose from my seat in a flash, startling the confectionist.

"I'm sorry. I have to go now, Mrs. Cake."

My scarf flew around my neck and I stormed out of the door, racing towards my house as fast as my hooves could carry me. Mrs. Cake called after me about my forgotten coffee, but I couldn't muster the care to return and retrieve it.

I ran, my direction the opposite of the cold winter current, a maelstrom of snow enveloping my coat, instantly undoing the relaxing warmth granted from Sugarcube Corner. I didn't notice, the cold of the day suddenly meaningless in the wake of what might be waiting for me. My whole body was shivering, not just from the cold but from a deeply rooted fear I had hoped I'd been able to leave behind. Something very bad might be about to happen.

Oh sweet Celestia please let me be wrong...

I rounded the corner, and froze.

On my porch was a sharply dressed unicorn stallion, nearly my height, and sharing a nearly identical mane and coat color. His horn was aglow to keep a small barrier sustained around him, lest the weather ruin his high class attire. He noticed my approach, and a warm smile greeted his face.

"Hello there, brother. Beautiful day, isn't it?"
___________________

“I hate this.”

Rainbow’s comment punctuated my own thoughts perfectly. One would hardly consider hospitals the most comfortable of locations, but I had always been particularly unnerved by them; a grim reminder of just how fragile we all really are. Taking into account that Ponyville is primarily an Earth Pony community, and thus lacked the advanced treatment options allowed by unicorn magic that I had become accustomed to in Trottingham, instead relying on more...rudimentary care taking, and the sensation of unease increased tenfold. My eyes sealed shut to shield the disconcerting sight from me, if only for a moment, my mind doing it's best to loose the disturbing train of thought. A sharp breath exited my lungs as i refocused on the reason we were here. There were currently far more important things to worry about than personal discomfort.

A quick glance up at Rainbow Dash revealed she seemed to be similarly at odds with our current situation. Her confident smirk and bold body language had evaporated the instant we entered this place, but the news had caused the glow in her eyes to extinguish even further. Looking at her now, sullen and emotionless, she almost seemed like a completely different mare; hardly the visage of a seasoned Wonderbolt. Dash averted my gaze and began fiddling with her mane in a forehoof.

"What are we gonna do?"

A halfhearted canned response lodged itself in my throat, and I merely responded with silence, unable to muster anything more pertinent. The truth of the matter was, despite my seemingly calm demeanor, I was just as demoralized as Dash.

"We can't just keep standing around out here, Rhyme. Sooner or later we're gonna have to go in there."

A melancholy groan affirmed I had heard her. Rainbow continued to echo my thoughts out loud. Still though...

My head rolled back against the wall with more force than I anticipated. "I'm not ready yet."

Rainbow finally collapsed to her haunches next to me. "Yeah...me either..."

Dash began fidgeting as her body quickly reached its stillness quota, her hooves tapping on the floor in an erratic, patternless fashion as her gaze meandered around the ceiling. The noise derailed my current thought process, neither of us desiring to continue our conversation for fear of where it would inevitably lead. My mind began to wander again, attempting to determine the best course of action, despite the best choice, the only choice, being painfully obvious.

I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. Hospitals never failed to smell awful, and Ponyville's humble example was no exception. A bizarre sensation of artificial sterility that still somehow managed to elicit an impression of dirt and grime. Each subsequent breath increased my desire to simply get out of there and take a long, hot shower.

"Maybe we should have just let the doctor tell her."

Dash brought me back from my mental tangent and reminded me of the task at hoof, fear entering the pit of my stomach as I thought about what was going to happen, most likely within the next few minutes. Having the doctor tell her would have been a lot easier.

"We both agreed that would have been cruel. She needs to hear this from somepony close to her."

Her shoulders sank at my response. “It was just a sprain, Rhyme. I've had the same thing dozens of times training with the 'Bolts. I told her it was just a sprain." Her voice wavered. "I told her it would be okay."

She glanced down at her hoof, still fiddling with spectrum streaked hair. "This is all my fault..."

In that instant, I wanted nothing more than to bluntly agree with her. To yell at her again. Scream at the top of my lungs such that Celestia herself would descend from Canterlot just to figure out what the hay was going on. Every fiber of my being demanded I throw all the blame at her hooves, to go on a second tirade and attempt to make her understand the true weight of her poor choice of actions these last four years. About all the times she hadn't been there for her. All the tears I'd seen her shed in her name while she was away in Cloudsdale. All the times she had done her best to play the pain off nonchalantly like it was no big deal, despite it so blatantly twisting her soul. About how a simple flying lesson from a Wonderbolt was hardly an apology for years of ignored reverence.

But that would be wrong. Because as much as I may hate her, that had nothing to do with what we were faced with right now.

"This isn’t your fault, Dash. Or any of us. It's no one's fault."

Her response was dripping with self-loathing, and to my disdain I found myself relishing in it. "But it is my fault. She wanted it so much because of me. And I flaunted it. Oh Celestia did I flaunt it in front of her. I flaunted it in front of everypony of course, but especially her. Because I knew she wanted it so badly. I wanted to inspire her to go that extra mile, just like I did. If I had known I was digging her grave like that..."

Dash’s eyes met mine. "I don't know if I can ever face her again."

Rainbow's current pain mixed in my mind with her previous actions, resulting in a feeling of numb indifference as I watched her begin to tear up. I elected to simply observe as she came to terms with what was about to happen, my expression remaining stoic and betraying nothing in terms of sympathy.

"That's why it has to be me that does it though, doesn't it?"

I gave her a simple, neutral nod.

The Wonderbolt sighed, and got on her hooves uncharacteristically slowly. I followed suite, the tightness in my chest returning as we made our way out of the waiting room and down the hallway towards where she was staying.

It was happening. We were about to do this to her.

"It just isn't fair, Rhyme, y'know?"

I did my best to project some semblance of calm in my response. I failed miserably.

"Yeah..."

_____________________

The snow was coming down faster now.

The filles and colts had all retreated, abandoning their winter activities and fleeing back inside their homes in light of the weather’s increased fervor, the previously mellow downpour of snowflakes quickly becoming more temperamental. Large bunches of snow whipped around in increasing more violent winds, my coat quickly becoming caked with a brutal mixture of snow and ice as winds tore through my body, numbing my skin to the point of burning. The cold continued its assault, my teeth chattering and limbs shivering as I unconsciously fought the frigid temperatures with what menial natural defenses my body had to offer.

None of that registered on a conscious level. The outside world was forgotten, the entirety of my existence shrank down to nothing more than the singular figure standing before me; all other sensations forgotten. The unquestionable reality of the situation was becoming painfully apparent. He was here. All that I had sought to escape from was literally on my doorstep, crushing my blissful four year dream under the hoof of an inescapable truth.

The world was brought back into focus when the subconscious sensation of cold was suddenly cut off from my body as the unicorn's horn glowed brighter, its fuchsia aura increasing in intensity as a companion barrier appeared around myself as well. The torrent of snow impacted inches away from my face against the transparent tourniquet and melted instantly, the resulting water cascading down the shield. The figure smiled.

"You look absolutely miserable."

I struggled to compose myself, finding my voice lost somewhere amid my thoughts. “Y-you know I don’t like the cold...”

The figure's smile only grew, and he approached me, raising a foreleg to take me into an embrace, but my body reacted on its own, hooves scurrying my frame backwards and out of his reach. He froze, and I felt a lump forming in my throat. Words attempted to escape my mouth again.

"Coda...what are you doing here?"

My brother appeared puzzled. "Looking for you, of course.” He smiled again, eyeing me intrepidly. “I've missed you so much. I was beginning to think I'd never see you again."

He lunged at me once more, the barriers he cast seamlessly melding into one as he came closer. This time, his advance was too quick for me to avoid, and I found myself pulled me into an enthusiastic embrace. It was a warm hug. Loving. Genuine. A brother elated to have finally found his kin. My forehoof slowly began wrapping itself around his neck as I cautiously returned his affection, my head coming to rest just above his shoulder.

"I've missed you, too."

Coda hesitated for a moment, then broke the embrace and began shivering, letting out an unpleasant grunt. "Come! Let us get out of this dreadful weather! I'm beginning to get a bit lightheaded sustaining this barrier for the both of us, and I will not have this suit ruined by some poorly timed Pegasus planning."

Coda gave a glance towards my front door. "Do you mind?"

I shook my head wordlessly.

"Excellent!" He grinned and threw the door open, rushing inside and canceling out the spell, the cold once again attacking my frame. A foreleg appeared through the doorway, motioning me to follow.

My hooves came to rest only a few steps inside my house. I hesitated to venture forth any further, my footing compromised by the sheer suddenness of it all. My mind was in a haze, unable to shake the feeling that everything I was experiencing was some sort of dream. My home suddenly felt foreign, its atmosphere in light of my surprise guest not unlike the first day I moved to Ponyville: cold and unfamiliar. Coda seemed either ignorant or unfazed by my shock, and he proceeded to tour himself around my humble abode with casual indifference.

"Not too bad, big brother. A little cramped here and there, sparsely furnished, and, unsurprisingly, a mite unkempt, but it certainly is cozy, and has a quaint rustic charm to its simplicity." The young stallion looked at me and grinned. "Still got nothing on Pops' place though, you gotta admit."

I chuckled nervously. "Dad...does make a fair bit more than me..."

"He doesn't have to you know..." Coda prodded.

I sighed, uninterested in continuing that conversation. The question, however, left my lips before I had a chance to reconsider. "How is Mom and Dad?"

Coda stopped fumbling through my stuff, electing to look straight at me, his gaze heavy. His mouth opened to speak, but the words never came. Instead, he meandered his way over to my couch, flopping down on it harshly, all pretense of high class society banished from his body language. He motioned for me to join him, and I made my way over from the doorway, despite my better judgement, and collapsed down next to him with a similar mindlessness. Coda waited for me to get situated before he continued.

"Physically, they're okay. They still got the business, so how bad could they be, right? Dad loves what he does, and Mom loves Dad."

He looked up at me. "But they essentially lost their first born son, Rhyme. Without even a goodbye or an explanation."

Coda’s gaze drifted from my eyes, slowly wafting downward until it met the ground. "I'd be lying if I said they weren't hurt by that. They haven't really been the same since you left. They miss you."

He pulled his focus back over towards me. "I miss you..."

My limbs felt weak as my heart twitched and wretched in my chest, each word from my brother's mouth adding another weight to the pile of guilt that had burst forth from my carefully erected emotional dam that had cracked upon his arrival, now utterly eradicated, sending forth a torrent of sensations long locked away.

Coda decided it better to let that blow fester a bit and move on to a more menial topic, getting up from the couch again with a stretch. "So Rhyme, what have you been doing for work all this time, huh?"

I did my best to keep my voice from wavering, my thoughts still with his previous statement. "There's a small place downtown called 'Sofas and Quills'. I do some stocking and inventory there. Moving furniture is a simpler task with magic, and in an Earth Pony town it’s hardly a skill to squander. I don't have much use for sofas, but I burn through a lot of quills, so the discount there doesn't hurt, either."

"Hmm..." Coda had returned to examining my room, digging through the contents of a bookshelf as he casually kept up conversation. “Any friends?”

“A few...”

I could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Meet any ladies?”

The question elicited a confusing sensation of butterflies. "No..."

Coda sighed as he placed a photo frame back on its shelf. "That's a shame. You need a good mare in your life, Rhyme. Keep your head on straight."

I gave my brother a sharp huff.

Coda sighed and made his way back over to the couch, his face becoming more solemn, which worried me. He sat down again, this time with his practiced, high class grace, barely a ruffle in his expensive suit. He looked me straight in the eyes, the previous warmth in his gaze masked behind the practiced poker face requisite of a pony of his position.

"I'm assuming no progress in that regard, either?"

He lifted a forehoof in my direction. I needn't look down at it to figure out where he was pointing.

"...no..."

He sighed. "I figured as much."

Coda's gaze meandered around my small home again, silently judging the sum total of what I had accomplished during my time spent away from Trottingham. His eyes returned to mine, and he sighed sharply before reciting an expertly delivered lie. "Look Rhyme...despite what a lot of ponies have probably been thinking, if not saying, it's not something you need to feel ashamed of."

He reclined a bit in my sofa, getting more comfortable in a vain attempt to ease the tension in the room. "You're confused. That's okay. Not everypony figures this stuff out right from the get go. I appreciate what you've been trying to do out here. I think it's pretty admirable. The fact that you have a roof over your head, a steady job, and some friends is nothing to scoff at."

His gaze became at once both disarming and disconcerting. "But lets face facts, Rhyme, you're atrophying out here. It's time you stopped deluding yourself with a false sense of progress and had the courage to admit that to yourself."

He took one of my forehooves in his.

"It's time to come home."

_____________________

You would have thought that I would have gotten used to the sight of the filly in bandages at this point. After all, Scootaloo was hardly one to exercise caution, and her physical condition more often than not reflected this lack of consideration. However, there was something about seeing her there, lying in a hospital bed, even with just the usual bound wing and bruised body, that conjured up thoughts of far more dire scenarios. Situations that instilled fear into the very core of my soul. Situations I hoped to never have to experience in reality.

What we were about to do to her was heart-wrenching enough as it is.

Scootaloo remained oblivious to us as we approached the doorway, her gaze transfixed on the sight of the setting sun visible through the window next to her bed, the dimming light reflecting off a fresh, undisturbed layer of powdery snow. A yawn escaped her lips as she stretched under the thin hospital bed sheets. Rolling over to get into a more comfortable position, her eyes finally turned towards us, both of us still struggling to muster the courage to move through the doorway. She perked up instantly.

"Oh...hey guys! How long have you been standing there?"

Dash and I both traded nervous glances. She gulped.

"We just got here, kiddo. How you holdin up?"

Scoots giggled and scratched the back of her mane. "Is it weird if I say I'm kinda getting used to wing injuries?"

"Yes."

"Nah."

Rainbow and I both responded simultaneously. I glanced at both of my feathered compatriots and raised an eyebrow before Dash and Scootaloo both burst into laughter, the filly's reaction a fair bit more hearty. I sighed. "Pegasi..."

Scootaloo flashed us both a confident smirk as she sat up. "You should've seen it, Rainbow Dash! Nurse Redheart came in here looking all worried when she put the bandages on. Like I had been mangled up real bad or something. Pfft! As if!" She puffed out her chest with pride. "I kept telling the doctor I didn't even need all these bandages, that you told me I was fine and not to bother." Her grin got even bigger. Rainbow’s shrank. "None of this even hurts! No big deal."

She flexed her forehooves and pivoted her barrel, demonstrating her full, pain-free range of motion. She went to stretch her wings when she let out a quick peep as she winced, her left wing twitching slightly as it disobeyed her. Scootaloo looked back over at us with a goofy, blissful smile on her face, doing her best to play off her discomfort.

"Heh heh... Looks like the flying lessons might have to wait a few weeks, huh?"

The comment snapped both of us back to reality, the smiles instantly leaving our faces as we remembered why we were so hesitant to force ourselves in here in the first place.

The sound of rustling feathers told me without even looking that Rainbow Dash was trembling, knowing that the moment was upon us, upon her. Her breathing became heavy as she fought back tears. She raised a hoof to move towards the bed, but stayed put, the raised limb shaking. Scootaloo's excitement waned as she noted the discomfort painfully apparent on her hero's face. Rainbow froze, her eyes shrinking to pinpricks as she locked up under the gaze of the filly who thought the world of her, the burden of the news she bore weighing heavily on her soul. The proud Wonderbolt averted her eyes, unable to keep eye contact with the filly, still ignorant of what we both knew too well. Rainbow began taking note of the floor as she fidgeted back and forth, any semblance of her trademark bravado abandoned as a cocktail of sorrow, guilt, and pity overtook her. She forced herself to look at the younger pegasus again, and inhaled.

"Scootaloo...you-"

The filly cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, hanging on Dash's indecisiveness. What little life that was left in Dash’s eyes suddenly extinguished completely. Her ears went flat against the back of her head and her gaze again wavered. Her wings were twitching uncontrollably now, and a sudden flap sent a powerful gust through the room. When they returned to her side, Rainbow’s wings were still, and her expression bare. Without another word, she turned towards the door. Scootaloo's expression was one of both confusion and fear, not used to seeing Dash acting so atypical.

"Rainbow Dash? What's wrong?"

I glared daggers at the Wonderbolt, making it clear I didn't approve. She ignored me however, keeping her eyes locked on the ground as she slowly shuffled away from Scootaloo, muttering to herself.

"I can't do this...can't be here...all my fault..."

As she approached the doorway, Scootaloo called out to her, desperation in her voice.

"Where are you going?!"

Rainbow Dash stopped, halfway through the door. She lifted her head up, yet couldn't manage to make eye contact with the younger pegasus. My forehoof met her shoulder in an attempt to steady her nerves, but she quickly shrugged it off as her gaze fell back towards the floor. She sniffled as words meekly left her muzzle.

"I'm sorry kiddo. I just...I'm sorry for everything...Please...don't hate me..."

She took off, her hoofsteps echoing down the hallway, pausing for a brief instant before picking up again with fervor. I started after her out of reflex before finer logic prevailed, realizing that doing so would leave Scootaloo alone. A not-so-subdued grunt escaped my lungs as Rainbow vanished, leaving behind a heartbroken filly and an enraged stallion. I kept my back to Scootaloo for a moment and did my best to hide the expression of undiluted rage painted all over my face, quickly replaced with agonizing sorrow as I heard the familiar sound of the pegasus' breathing begin to become audible, foreshadowing an all-to-familiar emotional breakdown, her idol once again the trigger. She struggled to steady her emotions, to look strong for me, if not for herself, yet despite the effort her eyes betrayed her, tears beginning to stream down her face.

I slowly made my way over to her, placing a hoof on her shoulder, attempting to calm her down, tears beginning to fall more frequently, her body shivering as she attempting to keep her feelings bottled up.

“It’s all right Scoots. Let it out if you need to...”

“Pfft...let it out? C’mon Rhyme. W-what do you think I am? A baby? Rainbow Dash is a Wonderbolt. S-she’s got more important things to do than hang out with m...”

Knowing it was coming didn’t make hearing it any easier. A soft whimper slowly escalated into a heartwrenching moan. "...what the hay’s going on? Why did she leave? Is she mad that I messed up the flying lesson? I promise it was a one time thing! I won't screw up again!"

Her words tore at my heart strings. “It has nothing to do with that.”

Her speech was filled with stutters as she continued to resist crying outright. “I can’t do this without her. I need her help...”

Damn it all. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve this...

She sniffled as her whimpering subsided for a moment, replaced with a timid curiosity. "...What’s the matter then? What did I do?"

I suddenly empathized with Dash as I realized I would have to be the one who told her. My face paled and my mouth became dry, the words simultaneously desperate to escape and clinging on to my throat for dear life, and I found myself similarly in limbo, unable to do what had to be done.

Scootaloo’s eyes widened as she looked me over, her voice wavering. "Rhyme...you're scaring me..."

An unexpected sensation met my cheek, and I reached up with a forehoof, brushing away tears I hadn't even realized I'd started shedding, and the filly gripped on to my coat even tighter. I sank onto my haunches to be at eye level with Scootaloo, her eyes shimmering as she tried to stop herself from crying. I took her forehooves in mine, an act that was supposed to comfort her, instead engraving the terror on her face even further. She knew something big was coming. It was obvious just from my expression. With all the effort I could muster, I forced myself to look directly at her, unwilling to deliver this halfheartedly.

"Scootaloo. There's...something we need to talk about..."

“W-what is it?”

I said it.

She screamed, and my heart broke.

__________

My eyes widened as the weight of what he was suggesting sank in. “Come...home?”

Coda seemed far less shocked. “Of course. You didn’t think we would shun you or anything, did you?” He gave me another warm smile. “You’re family River Rhyme. And family looks out for each other. Even when they might make rash, bone-headed decisions.”

Something about his tone struck me the wrong way. “I don’t think leaving was wrong, Coda.”

He simply shrugged. “Of course you don’t. You’re here, living it, you aren’t seeing the full picture.”

I looked over my brother again, adjusting his suit, muttering something about the weather damaging it. If it was anything like ones Dad wore, it probably cost a few hundred bits. Chump change for them, of course. He propped a leg up, sinking into the couch nonchalantly, shifting his weight a bit to get comfortable. Despite the conversation happening in the moment, his eyes were distant, pondering a dozen other things simultaneously, his mind never truly there with you completely.

Seeing him like this, so far removed from himself, prompted another long buried question leaves my lips.

“What happened to you, brother?”

He stopped his shifting and raised an eyebrow, my statement catching him off guard. “Hmm?”

Having to go down this path made me hesitate, and I found myself choosing my words slowly, treading with caution. “Well...its just that...seeing you now, the way you’re dressed, the way you speak, they way you think, it’s like talking with a complete stranger. You’ve changed so much since then. I barely recognize you anymore...”

Coda sighed. “Yes Rhyme, I did. It’s called growing up.”

I did my best to keep from retching. “You mean giving up.”

The comment caused his tone to shift considerably. “What was that?”

I inhaled deeply. I wasn’t looking for a fight, but at this point I was committed to finishing this conversation. My eyes met his. “The stallion before me isn’t the brother I grew up with. This wasn’t his goal. This wasn’t his dream. This isn’t who he wanted to be. He’s living a lie and too far gone to see it.”

Coda shook his head. “Oh come off it, Rhyme. Are you still caught up on that day?”

The way he so easily dismissed his past continued to rub me the wrong way, and I felt a spark in my chest begin to ignite surrounding kindling. “How could I not?! That was-”

Coda apparently didn’t care about hearing my thoughts on the matter, interrupting me with a practiced, authoritative tone. “Do you know what your problem is, Rhyme?”

He paused just long enough for me to consider his question, but continued before I had a chance to formulate a response. “Your problem is that I recognize exactly who this stallion is before me. I may be different, true, but that’s only because you have completely stagnated. You’re still a little colt chasing a coltish dream! And even then, you haven’t even made any progress!”

Coda stopped for a moment, suddenly realizing how loud his voice had risen. His eyes closed as he inhaled slowly, purposefully, attempting to reign in his anger. He opened them again as he exhaled, the rage leaving his face, replaced with his practiced smile as he looked over to me again.

“I love you, Rhyme. I really do. I wouldn’t have come out here if I didn’t. I want what’s best for you, I want to see you thrive the way I know you can. That we all know you can. It’s not like Dad’s lessons didn’t take on you. You have the skills if you’d only apply them! We don’t want to take you away from all of this, but let’s be honest, this isn’t you living up to your potential. You can do so much more than this.” He again motioned towards my bare flank. “You’re meant for so much more than this.”

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to dramatically throw my brother out after reading him the riot act for having the gall to show up after four years and immediately begin telling me how I’m supposed to live my life. Despite my best efforts though, I couldn’t stave the fact that some of what he said was making an eerie amount of sense. A companion fire began to rage, one not aimed at my brother, but at myself. One that consumed my soul for being swayed so easily. I let out a huff of exasperation as I left the sofa and removed myself from the room, unable to formulate a more competent response, and made my way to my kitchen, Coda eyeing me with disdain but holding back any further verbal chiding.

The situation called for a drink.

I threw open the doors on my hide-away bar as my horn sprang to life, shuffling through half a dozen bottles at a time, suspending them in the air around me, as I desperately searched for the bottle of Applosean Sour Green Ale I knew I had hanging around somewhere. Hoofsteps approaching from behind clued me in to my company having joined me. A long sigh told me he wasn't pleased, and that my brief respite from his judgments was over.

"Look at this. A self-erected monument to your own despair. Still hiding your guilt at the bottom of a bottle, I see. Even more so than when you were at home, if this collection is any indication."

I huffed without making eye contact as I found the bottle I was looking for, ripping it open and taking an aggressive swig before bothering to respond. "Hardly. The locals have just expanded my palate is all."

Coda rolled his eyes. "Of course they did. Earth Ponies have heartier livers than us. Something to keep in mind."

I continued to chug the bottle, to spite him if nothing else. If I struck a nerve with my brother, he didn't let on.

"It's funny. Considering your stance on working in the family business, I half-expected you to have kicked the habit to the curb by now."

"Just because I enjoy a good drink doesn't mean I get any sense of satisfaction from getting involved in the politics of big business brewing. Besides, I can't stand wearing a suit and tie."

He looked at me like I had sprouted a fifth hoof, apparently having difficultly understanding the concepts weren’t mutually exclusive.

My next statement seemingly came out of left field, the ale apparently already kicking in. Either that, or I was just looking for an excuse to start digging for answers to questions four years in the making. "Does it really make you happy, Coda? Living on the other side? Foregoing creativity for number crunching and board meetings?"

He shrugged with his usual nonchalance, betraying the weight I had put on the question. "It's on my flank, isn't it?"

"Well...yes, of course it is. But is it in your heart?”

My brother seemed puzzled for the second time that evening. “What does that mean?”

I mirrored his confusion and then some. “What does that mean? It means everything! You’re waltzing around like you’ve been itching to be at Dad’s side ever since you were a colt, but that’s not how it was back then!” I made a point to bring attention to his flank for a change. “Up until the day that Celestia-damned mark appeared, you were just as opposed as I was!"

He flashed me that stupid warm smile again. "That's what this is about, isn't it? That's why you left. You're afraid."

Afraid...

The dam suddenly burst, and everything started spilling out. No filter, no hesitation, no stopping.

"Yes, actually, I am afraid! Afraid of becoming like you! Abandoning my sense of self and what I want to do, and instead doing what I was told to do! I dunno what Mom and Dad said to you that so thoroughly stripped you of your soul, but...”

I pointed at his suit. “This.”
My hoof moved to his stupid high class styled mane. “Isn't.”
I brought our attention to his mark again. “You!”

Some deep breaths on my part attempted to calm myself like my brother did only moments earlier. I had far less luck. “You're a musician, Coda! Not a business pony! What happened to us writing songs together?! What happened to dreaming of moving to Canterlot and someday performing for the Princess?! My brother would never put business transactions above self-expression!”

I chanced a look directly at him, to see if I could spot any sign of my old brother in this stranger’s eyes. “We didn't calculate things, we felt things!"

His gaze remained cold.

My thoughts meandered back to the day he showed me that he got his mark. The day he decided to follow in Dad’s footsteps and someday take the reigns and inherit the company. The day that, somehow, managing beer became my brother’s destiny, despite all logic saying otherwise.

"I couldn't let it happen to me, Coda. I couldn't let my dreams, my soul, die like that. It wasn't just what I wanted to do, it was who I was. Who I still am. That dream defines me. Like yours did you."

I broke my gaze from my brother as I truly began to realize just how distant and different we had become. "I had to run...I had to run away from my own brother, for fear of becoming just like him..."

You would think that, after a confession like that, one would be agitated, angry even. That was how my brother would react. His emotions fueled him, simultaneously his greatest strength and biggest weakness, the source of his inspiration and his folly. It wasn’t perfect, but it was undeniably who he was.

The stallion standing before me instead put on another sympathetic smile, my words barely reaching him. "So that's it, huh? You think I'm brainwashed? That Mom and Dad somehow indoctrinated me against my will and forced me to get a mark that isn't mine to my everlasting chagrin?"

He placed a hoof to his forehead and chuckled. "Tell me something Rhyme. Do you really think I'm suffering? Do I look like I'm suffering to you?"

“But you-”

He cut me off again. “Don’t look at who you think I am. Look at who is actually standing before you. What do you see?”

My eyes scanned over my brother's form a few times, for no other reason than to simply stall for time, unable to come up with a response that worked in my favor. He may be a different pony than who I remembered, but if he was as miserable as I would have expected him to be, he was doing a good job of hiding it. My gaze wavered and fell to the floor. Coda seemed to take that as an answer and continued.

"Maybe this isn't the ‘me’ that you are so fond of, but that’s the thing. Kids grow up. Their goals change. That’s what happened to me." He chuckled. "The fact that your dreams never changed is the exception, Rhyme, not the rule.”

"It's funny though, because for all your talk of holding on to your dream, you don't seem all that happy. Nor that fulfilled. You seem lost."

I let out a muted gasp as his words registered, the discomfort in my chest swelling into a sensation of outright fear. My brother seemed to have drudged up a part of my soul even I had not been privy to.

Coda grabbed another one of the bottles out of my hide away bar, along with a glass, apparently deciding that I wasn’t going to be the only one drinking so early. The glass was filled nearly to the brim, and Coda went to take a sip as he floated the bottle back to its resting place. As soon as the liquor hit his lips he stopped and smirked, “Huh...well maybe your drinking habit isn’t entirely motivated by despair...” He elected to instead take the bottle with him, keeping it in his grasp and returning to my living room, motioning me to again follow him.

He took another quick sip of his drink before reclining again on my couch, placing the bottle on the coffee table in front of him. This time, I did not join him. He kept his drink afloat and nursed it as he spoke. "I didn't just up and find you yesterday, River Rhyme. Not when our entire family hadn't a single clue to go on. No...we've been looking for you with varying degrees of diligence ever since you left. Four years. That’s how long I've tried to find you.”

“And where have I been looking? I combed through Canterlot, Fillydelphia, Manehatten, Las Pegaus, all of the biggest patron cities of the arts, trying to find my brother who ran away to go chase his dreams."

He emptied his glass and began pouring another. "Imagine my surprise when, by chance, I find you in a backwater town, not even following your so-called dream, but stocking shelves at a ma and pa shop, ending your evenings not in the comfort of a mare or a stallion but a bottle, and hanging around with a group of children."

He downed another glass quickly before scowling at me. "I'm sorry, but do not lecture me on the right way to live. Clearly you don't have any ground to stand on."

I didn’t let the sting of his words wear off before I responded, and the pain mediated my statement. "Tell me this then: When was the last time you picked up an instrument?"

For the first time in this conversation, I saw his expression waver, and he downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp. “I won’t lie to you, brother. It’s been a long time. Longer than I would have liked. But when you have responsibilities, recreation has to wait. That’s also a part of growing up.”

He shot me a smug grin. "But comparatively, you have little in terms of responsibility. So you tell me: When was the last time you finished a poem?"

The statement caught me in the gut and my eyes widened, their gaze unconsciously shifting towards my room, where a wastebasket full of half-finished projects lay abandoned, a testament to the accuracy of his words. A dozen more collections just like were rotting away in a landfill somewhere after years of failed attempts to make any significant progress. A dream delayed. A dream that was beginning to look more and more like a delusion.

I fell to my haunches as my hooves reached for my bottle of Ale, destitute at the fact that it was empty. With no drink to offer me any courage, my words were weak. "It's...it's not the same. I've at least been trying. It's just...every time I put pen to parchment...I'm flooded with guilt. The pain of all of this comes flooding back. You've poisoned my passion by association..."

"Do you hear yourself brother? Guilt. Doesn't that tell you something?"

Silence was the only response I could muster.

Coda looked down at me, his eyes again filled with tempting warmth. "Come home with me, Rhyme. Enough of this wild goose chase. Lets get you well."

Come home.

The words began reverberating through my brain, their presence hauntingly void of the pure vitriol they had incited only twenty minutes earlier. I had made my way to Ponyville to simplify my life. Strip out the old baggage and reclaim my consciousness, pure of distraction. To find out who I really was.

And yet, with all this time invested, I had nothing to show for it but a probable damaged liver. Still no closer to getting a cutie mark. Still no closer to finding out who I really was. Still using booze to escape my problems instead of facing them.

Still a child.

Perhaps my brother has been right all along. Perhaps I really have just been afraid this whole time. Afraid of change. Afraid not of losing myself, but finding myself...

My mind began running in every direction simultaneously as the words left my mouth, not knowing if I should be proud or hate myself for considering the notion.

"M...maybe...maybe you're right..."

"I am right. Trust me, you will not regret this."

Coda made his way over and offered a forehoof to me. "Come, pack your essentials. I'll arrange a chariot for us. We'll be back in Trottingham by tomorrow."

__________

The front door held fast under my swift barrage of knocks, the resulting noise echoing across the snow covered front yard. The brisk winter air numbing what little sensation was left in my hooves. The snow had stopped for the moment, but was scheduled to start up again in just under an hour, hence why I decided, albeit on a whim, to attempt this now. If the noise had reached the filly inside, there were no signs of it. A few minutes passed and I waited, occasionally rubbing a forehoof against a leg in a vain attempt to stave off the cold.

“Scoots! Can you let me in? It’s freezing out here!”

The first time I found myself on Scootaloo’s doorstop, I was flabbergasted at the comparatively large scope of her home. Sure, it was nothing when put up against the massive buildings back in Trottingham, but a three-story house stood out like a sore thumb in a pedestrian town like Ponyville. At first I thought perhaps it was because most Pegasi like, (or, in Scootaloo’s case, need) their space, but that begged the follow-up question of why they didn’t opt for a cloud home like Rainbow Dash, Blossomforth, and pretty much all the other Pegasi in Ponyville settled on. Of course, once Apple Bloom clued me in to the fact that both of Scootaloo’s parents were Earth Ponies, it made a whole lot more sense.

The cold was beginning to get to me, and the fact that Scootaloo wasn’t responding was doing little to alleviate my concern, I knew she was in there. My hoof met the door as I again attempted to rouse her attention, calling out her name. By chance, my hoof happened to reflexively grasp onto the doorknob after my third round of knocking, and to my surprise the door swung open, it apparently not being locked.

It was difficult to tell when buried under almost two feet of snow, but Scootaloo’s home, in addition to being quite large, was all exquisitely well kept. The lawn was always a crisp green, punctuated with various flowers grown for both food and aesthetics, as well as a healthy garden to the house’s left. The building itself was also kept in sharp condition, it’s occupants repainting it every year.

Opening the door however, painted quite the different story.

If I wanted to be respectful, I could say that Scootaloo’s parents, if one were to judge based on the condition of their home, were avid collectors with a bountiful taste, taking a liking to that of anything and everything that seemed to strike their fancy. Of course, most wouldn’t be that respectful, and call them for what they blatantly were: hoarders. The house was packed to the brim with random assortments of trinkets, all with varying levels of usefulness. With collections spanning the likes of old magazines going back the last twenty years, tools, clothing, and books, things that, if on their own, wouldn’t seem all that jarring. But then there were the absolutely puzzling acquisitions, like five suitcases full of nothing but dozens of seemingly identical pairs of foldable eyeglasses. Empty coffee cans were scattered throughout the first floor, shoved into random shelves and alcoves, filled to the brim with bizarre, seemingly aimless array of objects. One was full of nails, another full of batteries, another a collection of multi-colored sporks. These, and countless other collections just like it, filled all the storage space in obvious sight and then some, spilling out into nearly every corner of the living area. Entering the house was like stepping into a life sized junk drawer, the hodgepodge of items encroaching upon your personal space. Taking this unfortunate proclivity into consideration, one can begin to understand the necessity for such a large home.

I called out for Scootaloo again, still standing in her doorway, not completely comfortable just waltzing in without permission. In addition to simply being put off by the condition of the home itself, despite knowing the filly quite well, I couldn’t say the same about her parents. Having been in their presence for perhaps all of five minutes, and spoken to them even less, her house still felt alien, making my present excursion a tad unnerving without being properly given her family’s blessing.

When my voice was again acknowledged only by silence, I found my hooves moving of their own accord, spurred on by impatience, and I chanced entering her home entirely, silently closing the door behind me.

Scootaloo's parents were absent, as per the norm, and the first floor appeared to be deserted. Judging from the dirty plates full of half finished meals, cheap beer bottles, and discarded food wrappers strewn about what would usually constitute a living room, it had been that way for some time now. The living area was instead filled with a random assortment of haphazardly collected items, the sheer volume of its contents betraying the eclectic sense of hierarchy to its organization.

Ascending the staircase proved to be an eerie experience. The silence of Scootaloo’s home made every hoofstep, every creak of the floorboards, and every slowly drawn breath painfully audible, creating the perfect ambiance for a horror film. The ambiance was increased even further by the lack of interior lighting, the house illuminated solely by the weak winter sunlight leaking through half drawn blinds, this fact also doing its part to make a simple staircase into a frustrating obstacle course as I carefully dodged random stacks of magazines, books, and the occasional collection of records casually dumped against the railings of the staircase, grabbing the few that I’d accidentally knock aside with my magic to prevent them from causing an even bigger mess than there already was.

I couldn’t recall a time prior when it was ever necessary to venture up to the second floor, the filly usually descending down herself in a blur of orange almost instantly upon the arrival of myself or the rest of the Crusaders, expertly dodging and weaving through the obstacles I was now stumbling over, making a habit of leaping once she hit the fifth to last step, sailing over the rest of the books and buzzing her wings to slow her descent, landing gracefully with a smug smile on her face, eager to begin that day’s adventure. The thought of her back then caused my lips to curl into a frown.

Something told me she would not be in such spirits today.

My eyes widened as I made my way into Scootaloo’s room. The rest of the house may have been cluttered, but her room was absolutely trashed. Signed posters of the Wonderbolts were ripped and scattered all over the floor in bits and pieces, some of their corners still sticking to the walls where they had originally been crudely taped. A wall mounted shelf was knocked over, hanging at an angle, its contents everywhere but where they should be located, many of the toys falling victim to various forms of amputation, their stuffing sticking out of them haphazardly. A familiar rainbow-colored wig was discarded in the corner, the remnants of a photo of Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo shattered on top of it, the glass of the frame broken and the underlying photo battered and crinkled.

Most disturbingly though, was the extreme amount of feathers strewn about the room, all of them a familiar orange hue, and far too many stained with blood. In the center of it all was the filly in question, her wings unsurprisingly looking a bit thinner than normal, curled up in a ball on her mattress, facing away from the door. The bed frame itself had been tossed against the wall and was now propped up at a 90 degree angle. Her body was shaking, doing its best to mask her sobbing and dealing with the chill seeping in through the open window, more of the room’s content having been tossed out of it in what could conservatively be called a momentary lapse of judgement. The word left my lips in light of nothing else pertinent coming to mind.

“Whoa...”

She stiffened up suddenly when she realized I was there, and sniffled a few times, attempting to get control of herself, though she continued to face opposite me. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and full of vitriol. “Get out, Rhyme.”

About thirty seconds of silence passed.

“You’re still there, aren’t you?”

“ ‘Fraid so.”

Her anger waned slightly, Scootaloo’s words quavering under the strain of her sorrow, tears beginning to fall. “Just go away! Leave me alone!”

I did exactly the opposite and took a few steps closer to her, treading carefully to not cause any more damage to her stuff. “If I thought you were in a state where I could trust you to be alone, maybe I’d consider it." My gaze wandered around her room again. "However, half your feathers are on the floor and there’s blood caked on your coat. I should probably be dragging you back to Nurse Redheart for another few days.”

She curled up tighter, giving her wing a dismissive flap as a few more feathers fell out. “Who cares. Feathering things are useless. Good riddance I say.”

“You don’t mean that.”

"Why wouldn’t I?! Look at me! I’m a joke! Looks like all the ‘chicken’ crap was right on the money this whole time!”

Scootaloo huffed and rearranged some pillows on her bed before curling up again, still refusing to face me. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at work or something?”

“It’s gonna be snowing all day today. Everything is closed. Besides, I wanted to check up on you. Haven’t seen you since...you know...”

“Oh gee! I’m sorry! Excuse me for not being out and about with a feathering smile on my face! Just gimme a second and I’ll totally get over the fact that I can’t...I can’t...”

The statement died in her throat as the room was filled with a dejected moan followed by abject sobbing, the statement too painful to be said out loud.

“...I’m so sorry, Scootaloo.”

The room became deathly silent, save for her subtle whimpering, determined to fight the tears back. She finally turned towards me, torment engraved on her face, the weight of the week’s events leaving her hollow. Tears began streaming down her face as she finally lost that fight. “Sorry? Sorry?! What does sorry fix?! I’m defective, Rhyme!"

Her words were barely audible, struggling to escape between agonizing wails. "What is it that Pegasi do?! You Unicorns have your magic! Earth Ponies are connected with nature! And Pegasi...f...fly!”

Saying the word took the wind out of her, and she slumped back onto her bed, the rest of her words delivered with far less force. “But no...not me. My wing muscles never developed properly. They’re too weak to keep me in the air.”

“Scootaloo, You aren’t defective.”

“Save it.” She snapped. “I don’t want your pity.”

I found myself instinctually taking a few steps back. I wasn’t used to Scootaloo being so aggressive, but under the circumstances I could hardly blame her. Still, I wasn't really sure how to handle her like this. The house once again became silent save for her aggravated breathing as I struggled to find a way to respond. When nothing came, she continued on anyways.

“My parents are Earth Ponies, Rhyme. How they ended up with a Pegasus for a kid is anypony’s guess, and not all the guesses are very nice." For a brief moment Scootaloo's eyes betrayed her as they filled with a sense of shame. "But because of that, flying is something they couldn't help me with, which is probably why it has always been the one thing I’ve wanted. My wings have always stood out to me because it’s what made me different than them.”

She rolled onto her back and stared aimlessly at the ceiling. “I still remember that day when I hung out with Rainbow Dash, the day she took me flying. Hugging her back, seeing the world in a whole new way, it felt so natural, so right. In that moment, I knew that my destiny was in the sky. I didn’t just idolize Rainbow Dash for who she was, but what she was.” She looked out the window and raised a forehoof to the sky. “Freedom.”

A dreamy expression met her face as she continued. “Up there, limits don’t exist. Your hooves aren’t glued to the ground, trapping you in one single way of moving. You can go anywhere you want, any way you want. You wanna go somewhere, you go there. Nothing can stop you. Your only limitation your ambition. It’s the single coolest thing in the whole world.”

The filly gave her battered wings a meager flap, sending a few straggling feathers wafting towards the ground. “And I’ll never know what its really like.”

Her expression grew heavy, ears falling flat as the weight of her previous statement caught up to her. The tears started flowing faster again. “What the hay am I supposed to do now Rhyme?! That was all I had left! Rainbow Dash is back in Cloudsdale again, she couldn’t even look at me straight after the hospital visit, and I lost my ‘sister’. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle got their cutie marks, not to mention each other, and I lost my best friends! And my parents-!” She paused. “Well, I never even had my parents...”

She broke eye contact with me and flopped back onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “But at least I had my wings, I thought. I didn’t have parents to teach me how to fly, but a few lessons from a Wonderbolt and I’d be good to go. Then I can figure out who I am, get my cutie mark, and from there, anything I wanted. Now...that’s gone too.”

She turned away from me again, her voice barely carrying over to me. “I have nothing left...”

I made my way over to her bed, sidestepping the mess on her floor, my tears concerning her plight kept at bay by the genuine warmth that emanated from my response. “That’s not true...”

My hoof met her battered wing. “You have me.”

For a moment she seemed receptive, but a quick flick of her wing batted my hoof away and she grunted again. “You aren’t the same...”

Her words cut deeper than I expected, each syllable feeling like a swift blow to the gut, leaving my heart empty and my response weak. “Oh... I see... My apologies...”

I knew I should have stayed, that Scootaloo shouldn’t be alone right now, even if she thought she wanted to be, but something about her words left me too hollow and uncomfortable to stick around, and I found myself desperate to get as far away as possible. The discomfort must have leaked onto my face, hard as I may have tried to mask it, for a moment after the words escaped her mouth she turned to face me and we briefly made eye contact. She subtly raised a forehoof, as if to protest her statement, yet her expression suddenly soured again and she dropped it, rolling back over and shutting herself off from the world again. Dejected, I make my way out of her room.

“Well...if you need to talk, you know where to find me...”

As I made my way out the door, I heard her tears begin to return with fervor. Guilt welled up in my chest, and a part of my was screaming to go back and comfort her again, but I had no idea what to say.

My scarf was drawn tighter around my neck as I made my way outside again, the snowfall starting to return, a bit earlier than scheduled. I did my best to put the block out the cold as I began to make my way home.

“I could use a drink...”

________

Neither of us seemed to notice the door opening, but when the meek voice announced itself I felt terrible for not realizing sooner.

“Rhyme...”

Scootaloo was standing in my doorway, ears tucked under a hat, neck wrapped in a long scarf, cheeks red with possible frostbite, and covered in snow. She gave her damaged wings a quick flutter and loosened some of the snow covering her coat, and I noticed that they were crudely bandaged. Her eyes were filled with emotion, locked on to my own unwavering. From the looks of her she had been standing there for awhile, long enough to hear the bulk of what we had been discussing. I silently motioned her inside with a hoof and she complied, slowly stumbling her way in on shivering legs. I instantly sprang up off the floor and quickly made my way over to meet her halfway, my brother simply watching the scene play out with casual curiosity.

I brought a hoof to her face as I wiped the snow and unkempt mane out of her eyes. “Scootaloo, is everything okay? What are you doing he-”

A loud crack echoed through the room as her forehoof impacted with my face. I stared at her, dumbfounded, too stunned to feel the pain.

“You feathering idiot!”

I tasted a trickle of blood running down my lip, and for a moment Scootaloo’s expression softened, before quickly reigniting after staring at me, as if my face reminded her of why she was here. Her eyes narrowed as she continued her tirade.

“When you left I felt like a total piece of crap! I come here to apologize and what do I see? You spouting a bunch of nonsense and acting like a complete moron!”

“W-What are y-”

“You promised! Don’t you remember?! You promised that you’d never leave me! No matter what!”

Her words brought me back to that day three years ago under the tree, and any counterargument I could have mustered sputtered out. My gaze fell to the floor, and I made no further protest as she continued.

“You said to come here if I needed you! Well guess what? I need you, Rhyme! And I’ll need you again!” Her voice suddenly became quiet. “Like you said yourself, you’re all I got left...”

Scootaloo shoved her face into mine, the anger alight in her eyes betrayed by the tears welling up. “So what am I supposed to to if you go back to Trottingham, huh?! Who will I have then?!” Her hoof struck my chest as the first tear fell. “Tell me!”

“I... “

“And if nothing else, do your dreams mean so little to you?! So what if they’re hard! So what if they’re unreasonable! That’s no reason to give up!”

She grabbed my muzzle in her forehoof, locking my gaze onto hers. She winced as she slowly, painfully, extended her wings full mast, tearing away at the bandages, gaping holes from missing feathers making the sight unsettlingly eerie. Her face took on a more somber expression as her voice lost a bit of it’s edge. Her eyes lidded slightly as she coerced a smile on her face for me, difficult, but genuine.

“At least your dreams are still within your grasp...”

I felt tears welling up as I raised a foreleg to embrace her, but before I could she spun around and faced my brother, who still reclining on my sofa with his wine, observing with his usual calm demeanor.

“And you!”

Coda raised an eyebrow as Scootaloo redirected her rage in his direction, topping off his glass before settling back in his seat, the filly eliciting little more than a passing curiosity from my brother. “Yes?”

“Where the hoof do you come off tearing down somepony’s dreams like that?! Who do you think you are?!”

Coda smirked as he took another drink. "I'm his brother."

"Could've fooled me." She spat.

My brother remained calm, levitating the glass off to the side and crossed a hind leg as he sank a bit further into my couch. "Young lady, I'm assuming you're a member of my bother's...rather peculiar social circle. Do not misinterpret my words, I am quite grateful for you caring enough about my brother to stick your neck out like this." His eyes narrowed. "However, this is a family matter. Your presence is not necessary."

Scootaloo smirked, undeterred. "Pfft...perhaps you haven't been paying attention, but Rhyme has been in Ponyville for awhile, now." She looked back over her shoulder at me. "You aren't his only family anymore."

"Listen, miss-"

"No. I think you've done enough talking. You listen."

She took a few steps forward towards Coda, who shot me an amused look before he resumed nursing his drink. Scootaloo took a second to compose herself before she continued.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe Rhyme has been wasting his time here, not being able to find a cutie mark. If so, then I’m just as wrong as he is. After all, my flank is bare too, and up until a few months ago, so was our best friends. None of us really know the first thing about getting a cutie mark. That’s kind of the problem.” She looked back at me briefly. “Being pressured about working some super flashy job, making more bits than he knows what to do with, and using his skills is just extra problems for Rhyme that I know even less about. I'm not about to say I understand anything about that stuff.”

“But I've been with him, this entire time, and you know what, I think, I know, he's happy here. If you cared about him, like real family should, isn't that enough? Even while we searched for our marks, as much as we were hoping for the future, we never ignored the present. Each other.”

She turned back to face me again, and her face lit up, the Scootaloo I knew surfacing for the first time since the hospital. "Rhyme, I love... the time we’ve spent together. This guy is wrong, okay? It wasn't a waste. We may not have our cutie marks, but we have our friendship.”

She motioned towards her flank. "We're the only Crusaders left. And we never stop the journey, right? Even when it gets hard."

She made her way back over to me, my brother completely forgotten, her words aimed at me alone. "If you can stand there and tell me that, despite the wings, this bare flank, and these broken dreams, that I'm not defective, then listen to me, River Rhyme."

"Neither are you."

I sat there, staring into her eyes as she looked down at me, unblinking. Scootaloo’s entire world had just been shattered. Everything that she had set her heart on and worked her whole life to achieve was taken away from her, by no fault of her own. Just a few short hours ago she was broken, by her own admission.

And yet, here she was, fighting for me, filled with renewed passion. Seeing the filly, no, the young mare, that I had grown so close to during my four years in Ponyville, reminded me of everything I had experienced, and it instantly cleared away all the cobwebs. The friends that I had made, the good times that I’d had. The bonds that I had forged.

It was small. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And it certainly wasn’t doing all that much to bring me any closer to accomplishing the goals I had initially set out to achieve by coming to Ponyville in the first place.

But it was mine. And that meant everything to me.

She meant everything to me.

I could never abandon that.

A soft smile formed as I gave Scootaloo a subtle nod. "Coda. I think it's time for you to go, now."

The smug grin left his face and Coda nearly dropped his wine glass, barely grasping it again with his magic before it impacted against the ground. "Brother...you can't be serious."

I looked over at Scootaloo again, her smile giving me strength. I looked back at my brother and gave him a solemn nod. "I am."

"But...you already decided. You had made up your mind! And then this little mare just waltzed in here and changes your mind?! Just like that?! You were about to fix things! Come home!"

I looked around my house, the memories of the last four years flooding back, and my tone became more resolute. "This is my home too, Coda. And right now, its where I belong. I have ponies who need me here. I want to be here."

“What about your first home?” He countered. “What about the ponies who need you there? Mom and Dad? What about me?”

Coda’s words lingered in the air as I considered them, once again giving me pause. I was suddenly caught between two families, two homes, two schools of thought. There were affections on both sides, both at the forefront of my mind as they vied for my attention.

However, only one of those homes had driven me out.

“You guys had your chance, brother. I’ll...I’ll always love you but...I’m just not comfortable at home anymore. Not like I am here.”

A concoction of desperation and rage filled my brothers eyes as his pleas became more raw, getting off the couch and standing up to face me. "Please, don't do this to me, Rhyme! If you make me walk out that door, and you aren't with me, I can't come back! I can not... will not... try and save you a second time! Forget the family, forget the business! Forget us! This place will be all that you ever have! Just your backwater friends, a bottle, and a bare flank! Is that really what you want?!"

Coda's eyes began to shimmer. "Please, Rhyme... Don't do this. I just found you again..."

My eyes wandered back and forth from my blood to my dearest friend, my mind racked with uncertainty, guilt building with each moment, knowing there was no way to appease everypony. Tears begin welling up again as I sink back on to my haunches. My gaze fell to the ground as I made my decision, the words delivered in a wavering, muted monotone.

"Goodbye, brother. It was nice seeing you again."

Everything in the room seemed to stop. Scootaloo and my brother both not making a sound, and I couldn't bring myself to take my eyes off the floor. For a few agonizing seconds there was nothing, followed by a quiet klink of a wine glass hitting the floor, followed by slow, heavy hoof steps making their way to the front of the house. The slow creak of the door seemed to echo thought the entire room as it was opened slowly, and the torrent of the storm outside once again becoming audible. I felt a gaze upon me and, against my better judgement, chanced a look up at my brother. My eyes met his, his expression filled with disappointment. He kept his gaze locked on me unblinking for a moment longer before his ears drooped, and he let out a long sigh.

"Goodbye, Rhyme. Enjoy your life."

The door slammed shut, and he was gone.

The cold of from the outside had quickly subsided after he closed the door, but I found myself unable to refrain from shivering. A second sound of softer hoofsteps approached as Scootaloo finally broke what felt like an eternity of silence as she slowly made her way over to me.

"Rhyme?"

A pathetic, pained cry left my throat as all my reserves broke away, and I wept, crying my eyes out like a little colt, years of anguish no longer able to be kept at bay, the bridge connecting me to my family, hanging on by a thread after all these years, finally engulfed in an inferno of emotion, my own tongue the catalyst. A soft orange hoof began caressing my cheek, wiping the tears away.

“I’m so sorry Rhyme. I didn’t mean t-” Her voice grew weak. “I just messed stuff up pretty bad, huh?”

A soft chuckle interjected my sobbing at her self-chastising. “What are you talking about? You saved me, Scoots. I almost gave up my dream, my life here...” I finally lifted my gaze off the floor and looked at her. “You.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit as a small smile crept back on her face.

“As for my family...” I felt a nagging sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Well...there’s nothing either of us can do about that now...”

Another whimper escaped, and the tears started again, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. Scootaloo’s hoof made its way across my face again, a bit slower this time, going past my and down my jawline. “I’m sorry about me, too.”

I did my best to halt the waterworks as I looked up at Scootaloo, the confusion in my eyes the only response I could formulate.

“I lashed out at you earlier at home. I...I know you were just trying to help.”

I did my best to compose myself and flash her a quick smile and casually wave a hoof, dismissing the incident in its entirety. She grabbed my forehoof and held it close.

“I wasn’t lying though. You aren’t the same as the others.” She squeezed a bit tighter as her voice began wavering with emotion as well. “You’re better, Rhyme. Better than Bloom, better than Sweetie...”

She brought my hoof to her chest, and looked straight at me. “... better than Rainbow Dash.”

Hanging around Scootaloo, I knew just how much weight a statement like that carried, and I felt my cheeks flush as my heart skipped a beat. As she looked at me, her eyes full of concern and compassion, I realized that she had come a long way from the rambunctious filly I had bumped into years ago. Scootaloo still had her share of issues, but there was something in those eyes, something new, that I hadn’t noticed before. A sense of understanding and sharpness that comes from growing up, of facing challenges and overcoming obstacles. She was a young mare now, and as I saw her for the first time all over again, it really struck me just how beautiful she was. Not in a cute kid kind of way, but, legitimately beautiful.

It was a simultaneously stunning and terrifying revelation.

“Scootaloo, I-”

“It's just...you’ve done so much for me, you know? You’ve always been there. Believed in me. When I saw you like that, I just...that isn’t the River Rhyme I know! The confident stallion who has all the answers! Who always knows what to do! I know that you’re better than that and if you ever left I wouldn’t be able to take it and...I just...snapped...”

Her forehooves wrapped around my neck and my head came to rest against hers, my sobbing beginning to come under control. She mumbled something into my coat, unheard above my tears. I sniffed a few times and attempted to get control of my voice again.

“What was that, Scoots?”

She coughed, stuttering a bit. “N-nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Part of me wanted to press for details, but I decided to pass, returning to her embrace, not wanting to risk ruining the moment. She gave my neck a quick nuzzle, sighing softly as her voice took on a calm, almost soothing tone. “You remember all those years ago in the park, right? When you promised you’d never leave?”

I chuckled, and gave her the warmest embrace I could summon, being careful to avoid her wings. “Of course I do. That’s what you were referring to earlier, right?”

She let out a contented chuckle, leaning more of her weight against me. “Yeah, it was.” She returned my embrace, her forlegs wrapping around me. She giggled under her breath, and spread her wings again, enveloping me with them as well. It was still the warmest embrace I had ever received. Her head left my neck as she looked up at me, eyes filled with sincerity.

“I will never, ever, leave you either.”

I let out a laugh. A genuine, happy laugh, it silencing my sobbing and putting the tears to rest, their pain at last surrendering to some positive emotions, all centered around the young mare in my hooves. I gave Scootaloo an quick extra squeeze and she gave an even bigger one back, and for awhile we just sat in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms in the middle of my living room, letting each other’s presence mend the wounds in our hearts. Fate decided that we had wallowed enough however, as a loud, long rumbling emanated from Scootaloo’s stomach.

I looked down at her and smirked. “Dinner?”

She smiled as her cheeks tinged pink. “Dinner.”

It was a modest meal, to be sure. I was hardly what one would call a competent cook, and Scootaloo was only marginally better, so, after a few botched attempts at anything classy, we settled on a spread of instant noodles and sandwiches, a bachelor buffet if there ever was one. If it bothered her though, she didn’t show it, instead making small talk in between bites as we enjoyed a humble dinner together.

The storm was still going at full force outside once dinner was finished, and neither of us really wanted to see the other go, so instead I got the fireplace going with a spark of magic, grabbed us some drinks (non-alcoholic, of course, I hadn’t realized how slim such pickings were in my home till now), and we cuddled up together on the sofa, bathed in the fire’s heat, and simply continued talking. The conversation went all over the place: School, work, friends, goings on in town, the latest movies we’d seen, anything we could think of but ourselves. Neither of our lives we’re in good enough shape to match the upbeat vibes of our conversation.

Eventually the Sun began to dip in the sky, the bleak winter day growing even darker as Luna brought forth her night. The storm had settled down hours ago, as had our conversation, Scootaloo and I contenting ourselves to merely soaking up the fire’s warmth, the crackling of the flames all that was audible. The peace was suddenly broken as a languid yawn escaped Scootaloo, causing her to sit up and stretch with a groggy groan. She looked over at me with half-lidded eyes, the warm fire seeming to have lulled her into as much of a state of sloth as it had myself. “It’s getting late Rhyme. Guess I should probably head out...”

She went to get on her hooves when I reached out and grabbed her forehoof without even thinking. The action took Scootaloo by surprise and she jumped a bit before looking back at me, her face painted with confusion.

“Umm...sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, Scoots.”

The confusion on her face gave way to concern. “Rhyme, are you okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course I’m fi-” My dismissal of her worry deflated when I realized that I still hadn’t let go of her hoof. “No...no I guess I’m not.”

“You idiot.” She mocked as she gave my hoof a small squeeze as she hopped back on the couch. “If you don’t want me to leave yet, you can just say so.”

I looked at her again, putting my other forehoof on top of hers. “Don’t leave yet...”

She blushed, and scooted over a bit closer to me. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

For another hour, or perhaps longer, we sat in silence again, enjoying the warmth of the fire and each other as time began to dissolve. Scootaloo would move a bit closer, then myself, and eventually we both were in each other’s hooves again, occasionally caressing each other’s coats, or letting out a soft sigh as we shifted positions a bit, ending the shuffle in an even tighter embrace.

Dusk soon became night, and we continued to embrace each other, words still yielding to simpler sensation. The fire had all but died, nothing but tiny embers clinging onto life, the room cast in complete darkness, the only sound coming from ourselves as our breathing tickled each other’s coats. At some point, one of us drifted off, surrendering to the call of the night, and the other didn’t bother to wake them, instead yielding to sleep themselves.

It was the best sleep I had gotten in a long time.

Author's Note

Curious about Dash's behavior in this chapter? All is explained in What Have I Done?, a side story that explores Dash's perspective in the aftermath of this chapter!