Born in Equestria

Chapters

War Machine
Party Animal
Ugly
Beautiful Mare
Big Bad Wolf
Born in Equestria
Daddy's Little Girl

War Machine

Born in Equestria

War Machine

Gentle flaps softly sustained the feel of floating calmly on the morning air. Serenity lay like a quiet veil on the moment.

Rainbow Dash didn't want to be lulled into the pleasure of the flight. There was nothing to enjoy. This was the most sad part of the course of events these things always followed, this beauty that existed only as the calm before the storm. One last false taste of the joys of peace, an elysian field growing with sweet pure grass right up to the cliff over the edge of which one would fall headlong into the depths of hell and plunge into pandemonium, where she and the other pegasi flying with her, all in tight formation, were headed, and where they all knew they were going and just kept right on towards it anyway.

This was a horrible thing they were doing. All of them could feel it. Nopony ever liked these flights.

It always started loud and ended quiet.

The weight of her armor was there like a blanket, wrapping in plates around her chest and belly, across her back, coming up around her neck and down her legs and covering her joints in chain mesh. It had heft, but not so much that it was a serious encumbrance. It was just ominous more than anything, right now.

They pressed forward through the air, every one of them carrying the awareness of their steel carapace.

Where they were headed was already in view. Most of the flight there had been at a steady easy pace, and low, just over the treetops, down near the ground where the air was thickest, making it easiest to fly in and the most oxygen rich. It prevented fatigue so that they could go in fresh at their peak combat performance. Here at the last approach they would veer up a few hundred feet to come at their target from above, swooping back down on it, and their advance would accelerate until they were plunging rapidly into the pitch of battle.

Other formations, other pegasi, now visible as dots in the distance, were doing the same thing from different directions, all converging with coordination onto this town, all adjusting their own paces now using signaling lights carried by flight leaders to flash terse indications back and forth to each other so that all would begin their assaults at the same time.

Sometimes when they approached a town there would also be a loose, disorganized column of panicked runners, griffins fleeing before it all started. When that happened, they always let them go. They were smart to take their last chance at escaping, but it was a hard thing to happen to them either way, and Rainbow Dash always felt sorry for them. They were leaving everything behind, making the tough choice to save their skin at the cost of everything else they had. There wouldn't be anything for them to come home to again.

There wasn't a column of refugees running out this time, and it meant things were going to be bad. It either meant that they were all staying because the whole town was battening down to mount a defense, or they somehow had advance warning and the ones who were going to leave already had and any who stayed had extra time to fortify. Either way was ugly. She wasn't so sure it made much difference all in all, though. The towns always fell, struggle however hard they might. The Equestrian army was larger, better trained, well equipped, and increasingly battlehardened as time went on. At this point they were steamrolling north, day by day, closing in on the end of the war and flattening out the last desparate defenders. Both sides smelled the blood of the final kill approaching, and it was making them both more and more vicious. This town was one more step on the way. Anything that could have happened here today was going to be ugly. She braced herself for it.

The sky they steadily pressed on through was still quiet and serene. The violence weighing on all of their thoughts, the task they all knew was coming, still lay under that veil of the blue morning sky, warm and clear and inviting.

Liar. She wanted to accuse the sky. You know damned well you should be washed in red stains, not resplendant in clean, pure blue. Can't we at least be honest about this? But she knew that the thought was unrealistic, self-centered and conceited, and this was true honesty of the bluntest kind, this ultimate indifference of the universe to life or death.

It was time to pull up for the final approach. The formation of pegasi rose up in a gentle slope, gradually picking up their pace as they followed the timing of their flight leader. This was the point of commitment to attack, no turning aside, no more waiting. A hit of adrenaline ran through Rainbow Dash as the sense of inevitability set in. Warmth and a heavy heartbeat in her chest, butterflies in her gut, tension like tightly wound steel wire in her muscles... Energetic readiness for the terrible work just ahead spread through all her being.

At the crest of their rise, Rainbow Dash and all the other pegasi reached back and opened their right side saddlebags. This was the moment at which they were trained to make ready with weights. She dug her muzzle in and found the loop of cord, attached to the end of a chain, carefully positioned to snake out of the saddlebag easily. She bit down and pulled it all out. The chain towed out behind her, and a round steel ball fell out at the end of it. It trailed at her side, hanging down. Every pegasi in her flight held one of their own similarly.

The dive started. She tilted her wings, subtle motions pitching her forward and angling her back down towards the earth, aiming at the first row of small buildings marking the outer edge of the town. There was already motion happening below them. A row of griffins was flighting from the ground, rising to meet the advancing pegasi. They seemed to have some cohesion as a group, but no armor, and what weapons they had were inconsistent griffin to griffin. Definitely not part of the army. Local volunteer militia. They could stick together, at least, so they'd drilled a few times, but odds were they'd never seen an actual fight. Like everything else that day, this was going to be ugly... Extremely so for them.

The flight of pegasi just kept moving faster and faster, flying razor straight, flapping hard and using the gravity assist of their height to push for speed. The griffins flapped furiously to pull themselves up to meet them. Rainbow Dash stared at the line. It started small, each griffin looking tiny, but they steadily got bigger and bigger, more distinctly detailed, angry glares and hateful eyes more defined. Oh yeah. They'd kill every pony there, if they could. No doubt. Probably have a feast of horsemeat after they did, too.

Their bad luck, then, that the flight they were taking on was made up of Advanced Combat Fliers, considered the most elite forces of the Equestrian Army. The griffins were closing in, rushing up as the pegasi were rushing down. Neither side wavered. Right as they were closing on each other, for a second or two Rainbow Dash could see the griffin dead ahead of her, still staring forward, intently focused, singling her out, telegraphing his target like a fool. All the griffins were doing that. With well practiced timing, she whipped her head back, around, and forward again in a circular motion, pulling on the cord loop in her teeth, swinging the weight around behind her in an arc. Just as it was swinging forward again, she veered the slightest bit off the to side, still flying forward just as fast as ever but moving out of the way of a direct collision with the griffin, who was too slow to correct his trajectory and catch her. He caught the steel weight instead, right in the middle of the sternum, slamming into him with the force of their combined momentums in opposite directions. Something cracked and loose feathers burst from his chest in a cloud, floating in the air. The griffin spun around out of control, and the chain was pulled tight. Dash held the loop of cord loosely in her teeth, and when it was yanked from her mouth, she just let it go rather than lose any momentum trying to keep hold. The chain tangled around one of his forearms, with the weight pulling him downwards. Well, he could go ahead and keep it. She had another one.

The griffin reached up and tried to grab his chest. He flapped weakly, little crippled half-flaps, and made a weird gurgling noise while his eyes slowly half-shut and rolled back. He lost his lift and slowly began falling, and picked up speed as gravity took hold and plunged to the ground, still spinning crazily and trailing feathers and heavy droplets of blood.

All the pegasi did this, each one picking off whatever griffin had been approaching them. They struck them in passing and kept moving. The formation never broke or slowed down. They just screamed right through the line of griffins, focused on nothing but reaching the earth.

The ponies that had lost their weapon, like Rainbow Dash, lit on the ground when they reached it. The ones who'd managed to hold onto them wheeled around and kept a few feet up in the air, covering the landing of their flightmates from any leftover griffins. After it was clear that they were all dead, disabled, or running away, the remaining airborn pegasi circled back around and landed, restowing their chains. The flight regrouped on the ground, quickly accounting for all of its members. Some had their sides splattered with streaks of blood, and a couple had small griffin's feathers stuck to their armor, glued down by the sticky red liquid. Not a single one of them paid the least bit of attention to it. They'd seen it all so many times before that getting a little blood on yourself was of no note. This was nothing. They'd all be much, much dirtier by the day's end, that was assured.

They were off to a loud start.

For the first few blocks of their advance into the town, there was fighting in the street every inch of the way. It seemed like there wasn't a building or tree or even a rock that a griffin wasn't trying to hold from them. They jumped at ponies, clawing at their armor, sometimes managing to leave a few superficial scratches, sometimes more serious gouges or bites, before they were bucked off and beaten savagely until subdued. It was slow, at first, but after a while resistance thinned out and they had firm hold, and their sector was met on either side by other groups of ponies, closing any gaps in their area of responsibility in the encirclement of the town. They could call the perimeter under control, and the first objective of the day was thus accomplished.

Rainbow Dash had been on the front line pushing the whole time. When their flight leader finally called it enough, she was sweaty and hot, having just spent the last minute or so grappling with a particularly angry griffin, both of them struggling as hard as they could until Rainbow Dash had found just enough of an advantaged position to get a forelimb around the back of the griffin's neck and pound her in the face with the other forehoof, then bounce her head off the pavement a couple times, leaving her black-eyed, bloodied and stunned into dizzy drunken-seeming semiconsciousness in which she could finally be tied up and taken prisoner. Though the danger in the fight was very real, somehow Dash found that couldn't look on the griffin with anger once she was under control. Rainbow Dash understood her. Anypony would have done the same, fighting for home, trying in desparation to resist the invader overrunning the streets of her neighborhood. Dash just hoped she'd get some medical attention for the severe concussion she almost certainly had. It bothered her that she wasn't so sure about how good the chances were that would actually happen.

For her own part, Dash was overheated, she felt like she was burning up from the intensity of the fight. She needed to cool out and recharge so she pulled back for some water. It was in a cluster of barrels that had been brought in by the earth pony reenforcements following on hoof just after the pegasi initial landing. Earth Ponies. Some of the pegasi laughed at them, said that any pony without wings would never be a real soldier. Dash didn't, she thought they were alright. Not too many of them may have been cut out to be the kind of hardened, first-wave warriors that some pegasi were... But there were some that were very respectable on the field. Even the ones who weren't so bold, well, they were still good at cleaning up the mess and making the supplies get there. They supported everypony, and that was something that had to be appreciated.

One of the barrels had been tapped and drained out into a wide, shallow container, open for drinking out of. Rainbow Dash gulped down water until her stomach was full. She would need it. It would make her have to pee pretty bad, probably, but that was better than dealing with getting dehydrated. The town was full of houses. They had bathrooms. Technically, they weren't supposed to help themselves to the use of any of the facilities in the private residences they searched and secured, laws of war and civilian's rights and all that... But who was gonna say anything? It was just taking a leak, a reasonable, harmless enough thing. It's not like she was looting.

She splashed some water up onto her face and let it run down, feeling it drip off her chin before she shook her head and the liquid flew off in a million little tiny sparkling droplets.

In that quiet interlude, Rainbow Dash had a brief thought, a notion of looking forward to after this was all over and they'd cleared up the site and she was relieved from the field to go back to camp. She'd strip off all this armor, and the cloth linings beneath it, dumping the clothes into a pile of dirty laundry for washing later, and once she was naked she'd feel the refreshing coolness of the sweat starting to air out from her coat and skin while she walked to one of the shower stations, where she'd stand for a good relaxing few minutes under the stream of water. The gentle massage of the falling rivulet would melt out some tension while the liquid melted out the splashes of blood and the leftover salt and grime of the sweat and hard work of the day. The feeling of gritty, greasy, dirty, would be gone, replaced with the distinctive and incomparable sensation of clean.

Back in the civilized world, a shower was easy to take for granted, but here it was a treasure, and those little bright points had to be taken where they could be found. It was something, at least. The anticipation of that little thing would get her through the day here as much as anything else.

Dash started back towards the forward positions again. The day was only just barely starting, they would probably start sweeping everything clear house to house soon.

If the day's start was loud, the volume would only get cranked up from here.

She kicked the door open, turned around rapidly, and trailed the other two pegasi into the house, taking the middle while they broke to the sides and visually swept the corners. "Clear left!" one yelled, immediately followed by "Clear right!" from the opposite direction.

"Three middle!" Rainbow Dash reflexively yelled back. "... Think they're down. Not moving," she elaborated. Saying they were 'down' felt absurd, given the circumstances - none of the three were touching the ground, exactly - but it was the standard field terminology for their condition, so she went with it. The other two pegasi turned to look.

"Well buck," one of them said quietly. "... Yeah. I'd say they're not gonna be much of a fight." The three pegasi stared straight ahead into the center of the house. Three griffins were hanging, with ropes tied around their necks and heads cocked off at funny unnatural angles.

It was an adult female and two young children. Rainbow Dash was jarred a bit, but not very surprised. There were always a couple of these, the stories always went around after every major battle for a town. It was a family. The female, the mother, hanged her children and then herself rather than let any of them be captured alive. Dash had never been the one to find this kind of suicide before, though, to be the first to see it fresh in person. She would have preferred not to have been this time... Or any other time, either. On a scale from zero to all bucked up, this was right up there at the top.

Dead kids. What the buck. They didn't say anything about dead kids when she signed up.

Still, though, no time to stop and gawk. The three of them quickly checked around all the corners, verifying there were no live griffins still hiding. In a small semi-isolated area in one far corner of the house, there was a small basinet, swaddled up with soft blankets, in the middle of which was a smashed egg. Yolk and slimy transparent albumen were spattered everywhere. Rainbow Dash cringed in her mind while she looked in the pile of now hollowed shell fragments, not wanting to see but knowing she had to. She couldn't see anything but thin yellow fluid left from the destroyed yolk. Probably an infertile egg, then, she assumed. She hoped as hard as she could it was infertile, at least. Maybe it was easier that she couldn't tell one way or another. If she was looking at dead kid number three, she didn't want to know. She turned away and pushed any further thoughts about it out of her mind. They wouldn't do any good whatever the case.

"Well, they're not going anywhere. We gotta keep moving," one of the other two pegasi said. "House is clear. They'll get somepony to cut 'em down later. Next one, let's go."

On the outside of the doorway, one of Dash's squadmates hung a red colored flag, the signal color indicating to the earth pony troopers coming in behind them to do the field support that there were dead bodies in the house. Some corpspony would deal with the dirtywork of cutting down the griffins and moving their bodies to the field morgue. She wished there was a way to warn them about what they were going to see, but the system wasn't that specific. Sorry guys.

The three pegasi left, back into the street, to advance to the next house and repeat the process all over again, and again, and again, for hours. Some houses were empty, some had griffins still in them, cowering, hiding, desperate. Some of them were subdued and taken prisoner, with looks of terror on their faces, no idea what was going to happen to them at the hooves of the ponies. Some fought and were killed - stabbed and bled to death, or crushed under vicious blows from powerful equine hind legs. More red flags left on doorframes of cleared houses. More blood accumulated on Rainbow Dash's armor, random spatters and splotches and splashes that built up seemingly organically, like weeds in a field in summer cropping up over time. She didn't think much about it consciously, other than to notice at one point that her hooves were picking up an even staining of dull brick red, and that it was spreading in sticky clots up her fetlocks, matting them down and drying the hairs together into crusty strings like a mane hardened by too much gel. It was a reminder that she was letting those fetlocks get too long, she should cut them. They were supposed to be kept short per army regulation for sanitary reasons exactly like this, but out here trying to live in the field nopony was really calling them out on it and it tended to get overlooked in favor of more important things until there was a good reason to think about investing the time in trimming them down.

Every house, every griffin, was harder than the last one. Every one they bound up struggling and turned over as a prisoner, every one that died fighting them, drained her a little more, numbed her, made her feel a little more dead inside. The day dragged on and she ached and her vigor wore away and she hated it more and more. She just wanted the day to finally be over with an intensity that grew in proportion with her fatigue until it was nearly unbearable. She just wanted an end to the constant advance, leaving the wake of dead bodies, the fresh blood collecting bit by bit on her armor, and the suffering all around her.

She knew that the other two pegasi in her squad felt the same way, but they kept going and she kept up with them and none of them said anything. What good would it have done? This was how it always was. Dash just kept moving forward, on and on. Even when she had almost nothing left, she kept that shower in mind, after this would all be over, clinging to it, the anticipation of the feeling of it and how it would be the same feeling of pleasure no matter how bad this got. It couldn't take that little bit of the future, that little bit of something, from her, so she kept pushing herself forward no matter how exhausted she felt. She kept going because it was all she could do.

This was how it always was. It was always hell. Sheer hell.

Why were they doing this? She knew why. She'd known why this whole time, this whole wretched war. She'd known why, in this sense of an abstract notion that griffins had incurred into Equestrian towns, that the Griffin Kingdom rulership was actively fostering these raiders, these acts of war. Ponies had died at the claws of the griffins.

For her friends. For her family. For everypony she loved. That's why she was doing this, so they could have a safe Equestria to live in. But the longer she did this, and the longer the day wore on, the more tenuous that intellectual rationale felt, however valid it might be. The blood all over her hooves, though... That was tangible, in a crimson growing deeper and deeper, more and more real, staying with her even when everything else, all the distant concepts and notions of why, fell away, turned grey and ephemeral, unreal, transparent as a pane of glass. Everything else faded, except that she knew that now griffins were dying at her hooves, hers and those of the ponies she fought alongside.

All the larger reasons, the sense of this in some kind of big picture... They'd never existed. All that existed was that she was here in the middle of the crucible, the heat of the battle, and it was a fight to the death, her or them. Some part of her knew that the next day after this was all over, then retrospection on all of this, when that big picture came back a little, would bring in a flood of emotion and probably she'd cry her eyes out, in her tent back at camp, somewhere in private where nopony would see her, thinking about what she'd done, the lives she'd crushed out.

But all of that was very abstract. It was for the future. All of that was just some picture, some unreal disconnected thought, not linked to what was there in front of her moment by moment. She had to get through this if she was going to get to enjoy her shower. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

It was the worst imaginable hell, but the only way out to something any better was forward, to push through it, until it was over.

The day was finally over. They'd cleared the town successfully, as expected. There wasn't ever really a question, only a matter of time. Rainbow Dash stood there just outside of town, alone. Dead bodies lay prone on the ground. Buildings had caught fire and burned, the light wooden construction typical of the griffins going up like matchsticks and then quickly sputtering out when the blazes ran out of fuel. They tried to not let it happen, but collateral damage was a fact of life in this vicious reality. Nopony was crying over it too hard and nopony would get in any real trouble.

But it was over now, and everything had finally become still again. The motionlessness was eerie.

That silence, the silence of death, stretched on while she stood and watched, with nothing to break it. The day was fading. The glow coming from the west felt like it would be a sunset that lasted forever with no end, the sun sitting low in a rich red like a pool of blood on the horizon for all the rest of the eternity in which those bodies would lay still, never move and never make another sound. This was the culmination, the days work she'd done well and seen to the end. She'd stilled them to a silence so profound that no noise could ever fill it again and bring back the voices and the stirrings that were gone.

She stood alone in the field, knowing somehow that she was a million miles from any living thing, surrounded by motionless cold bodies, random plucked clumps of feathers tinted with drying blood, the charred remains of the town's buildings now burned out and collapsed into embers and ashes and faint hazy smoke still lingering. The silence of it all stabbed through her heart, and ran cold in her arteries and veins and echoed in her ears like the most deafening explosion.

It always started loud and ended quiet.

God, it was so quiet.

Rainbow Dash woke with a deceptively gentle return to lucidity, seeming calm.

She stared into a dark wall of night, through which her eyes could just barely make out the features in the dark bedroom of her house over Ponyville, the house she'd just come back to live in again after three years away. The images she'd just seen were fresh, haunting and unsettled, flooding through her mind more and more clearly the more she returned to a waking state. A strangled scream welled halfway up her throat, and she tried to let it out, even just a little, but nothing would come. She felt paralyzed, until it died away unexpressed.

A dream. That's all it was, she realized, though it had felt so real that it took a few moments to reconcile that fact. This was only her second night home, it still felt disorienting and freshly unfamiliar. But it was real. She was here, home again, at last. The horrible things she'd just seen were all just a dream.

It still hurt. It still felt like agony.

Her eyes watered and tears built until they broke free and rolled down onto her cloud pillow, and she was finally able to sob, softly, with her chest gently racking in and out while she drew ragged breath through clenched teeth. She lay on her side, legs drawn in and wings held tight against her back, curled up into a ball, and cried, thinking about all the things in her dream, and about the way she'd seen herself in it, the war machine that she'd spent the last three years as, and how it was a dream but not just a dream, because she'd seen all those things up close all too vividly too many times and every one of them was a real thing she would have to live with carrying in her head forever.

Her mind burned with it all the rest of the night until the pale light of dawn finally started to come in through the window. She started her third day home exhausted and upset before she'd even gotten out of bed.

Author's Note

I'm trying out a new release format. I'm publishing the parts individually as they reach completion. Normally, I would never do this, but for this particular story, I think it will work. It'll let me get something out there sooner instead of sitting around waiting, which has always been a somewhat difficult and motivation-killing part of the process for me. I want to see if this approach helps.

Party Animal

Born in Equestria

Party Animal

"Welcome home, Rainbow Dash!" Derpy Hooves smiled and embraced Dash, with the affection of an old friend.

Though a little unexpected, it was actually kind of nice. Simpleminded as she seemed, the grey mare was all heart and sincerity, through and through.

"Thanks, Derpy." Rainbow Dash returned the smile and hugged her back. "It feels good."

It was true. It did feel good, that moment. It felt better than the cautiously polite welcomes that a lot of ponies had approached her with.

She couldn't blame them, though. Things were a little strange to her, as well. After three years away, Ponyville felt... It was like she remembered, but it wasn't. The streets were the same. The buildings were the same. The town looked the same, but something didn't feel the same. Not yet. She was still exploring, and it would be a process, finding that feeling again, the familiarity... Being really home again.

Derpy's greeting felt good, though. It felt great. That felt like home.

It was the way that she knew Pinkie Pie had intended this whole welcome back party to feel, but Dash just wasn't there, yet. Not her or most of the ponies around her.

Not that they weren't trying. They were. It just kind of... Fell flat. It was chit-chat. Smalltalk. Questions meant to create the sense that the pony asking them cared enough to ask - that's what this party was turning out to be, for the most part. Most of them asked the same things, one pony after another. What was it like? How many griffins did you clobber? Was it exciting? Was it scary? Did you learn a bunch of cool flying moves, are you gonna try to be a Wonderbolt now, what's next for you? They asked and Dash answered as quickly and as non-specifically as possible without being offending in her briefness. They were well-meaning, but it was awkward in a subtle way, and tiring, so tiring, being asked all these questions that felt like they were being asked because ponies thought they were the thing they should be asking to be polite.

It would have been better and much preferred, by far, if they could have just given her a simple but sincere "welcome back" and a hug with some honest warmth in it. It would have been so much easier if they could all just learn something from Derpy. She wasn't as dumb as they all assumed. She was a cross-eyed ditz, but at least she knew how to say how she really felt. She knew how to make you feel liked if she liked you, and if she didn't, she didn't pretend. That kind of purity, and that kind of honesty... That was something everypony could learn from. That was something Rainbow Dash wished she knew more of herself.

But as it was, most ponies were more diplomatic than blunt, more considerate than immediate. Questions were considerate, because questions implied interest. Thus they were question-askers. Maddeningly, but understandably and through no fault of their own (as Rainbow Dash had to keep telling herself), they were askers.

The questions were just so difficult because they were all things Rainbow Dash didn't especially want to talk about right now. She didn't want to think about them. All she wanted was time off. She just wanted a break, a change of pace back to what her life used to be before all this insanity, after three years. Being questioned about it was not helping her. Not the least little bit.

For that reason, Rainbow Dash kept drifting off alone to the less populated patches of the party's venue, the field in which Applejack's barn sat. She would have usually expected a party to be held at Sugarcube Corner or the library or something, but it was too big this time. It turned out Pinkie Pie had apparently so outdone herself in inviting everypony around that this was the only available continuous open space that could really hold the event.

Flattering that so many ponies would show up for her, but a bit overwhelming... Uncomfortable, really.

All she'd done was to go do the worst possible things a pony can do because there wasn't any better way. Why was that suddenly the thing that made her interesting, respected, the center of attention, getting her own big freaking giant welcome-home party?

She hated it, she realized.

They didn't know her. That was at the heart of it. They didn't really know her anymore because they didn't know anything about this. That was really the thing the questions revealed the most. They asked about it like it was glamorous, like it was fun and interesting, like it was prestigious. Like this was like being a Wonderbolt or something.

That notion was the first thing that had been beaten out of her head on day one of Advanced Flight Combat school.

"You're not here to learn how to fly to impress. Understand that right now. That is not what flight combat is about. That is not what we teach here. Don't try to fly fancy, just fly the right way. Fly the way we teach you and you'll be golden. Try to do loops, rolls, try to be a cocky show-off retard... You'll find out the hard way why this is known as a hard school. This school has a high attrition rate. It is not for everypony. If you wanna be a Wonderbolt and not an Advanced Combat Flier, well, you've already been through basic before you got here. There's other places the Army can stick their wanna-be-bolts. You can just as easily get kicked back to some other job not as demanding as this, so we have no problem with dropping you if you don't wanna be here and be one of us.

A lot of our graduates go on to become Wonderbolts later because of the excellence of the precision and tactical flight we teach. We are the best of the Equestrian Army and second to no other military in the world. But we don't make Wonderbolts. We don't need Wonderbolts, the Wonderbolts don't do the job we do. We make soldiers, the best ones. We don't fly to put on a show. We fly to fight and win wars.

Save all of us the time and the pain and request to drop now if that's not who you are. Tap out. You might as well quit now if you have something else in mind or someplace else you'd rather be. Over the next few months we will find those of you who aren't dedicated to this... And when we do, it will hurt. It'll be easier if you just step up and admit it now. Anypony? Anypony not belong here? This is your free pass out before the fun begins. It's the only easy one you'll get. After this, it's on, ponies. It. Is. On."

That opening speech being screamed at her and the other Advanced Combat Flier candidates of her class, lined up outside in the frigid air before dawn on their first day, was still burned into her mind. Every word of it was true. It was nothing like the Wonderbolts. It was a completely different kind of flying... A different purpose, a different mindset.

It was a difference ponies who hadn't done it didn't understand. Maybe she should explain it, but... That didn't seem like what they wanted to hear. It was probably less upsetting to let them think about it in their preconceived ways than to set them straight. And how could she, anyway? If you didn't experience this yourself, it was impossible to really understand by just being told about it, and those who already understood wouldn't need to be told. Either way, this felt too difficult to really talk about beyond the superficial nicieties everypony expected to hear.

Nopony ever lied and said it was easy, but nopony told her how hard it was. Nopony could tell her because it couldn't be explained.

Anyway, ignorance is bliss, and who was she to ruin somepony else's bliss? It would only be upsetting or confusing for them without accomplishing anything.

It felt hopeless.

Was that the price for carrying that kind of burden of knowing what she knew, and the kinds of things she'd done? This alienation, this feeling of losing the sense of "home" when she came home? Did doing something so that other ponies don't have to know what it's like mean not being known herself anymore?

Why do I feel so lost now in a place I knew so well before?

This question ran through her head in a troubled stream, turbulent and preoccupying, while she kept wandering through the field. She was pacing herself slowly enough to not be perceived as hurrying anywhere but not really wanting to stop, since that was when other ponies, seeing her standing around alone, would approach her and try to chat. In part of the field, two temporary pavillions had been set up, next to each other, with a wide strip of space separating them like an alleyway down the middle. That was where Rainbow Dash meandered towards, half consciously, just to make it seem like she was headed somewhere distinct.

She walked between them and looked around. She already knew this was the food and drink area, but she hadn't yet been to it herself until now. There was a long table underneath both pavillions. One side was well stocked up with all kinds of snacks, cheeses, fruits, cakes, every kind of sweet, and a wide variety of drinks that anypony of any age could have.

The other side was... More for adults. It was an open bar, self service. Grab whatever you wanted. Bottles were lined up in a long row on the table, interspersed with stacks of cups. A pair of coolers piled with ice cubes, one at either end, held chilled bottles - beer, cider, a few different types of wine. A lot of the stuff was the typical bar fare - lower proof liqueurs for mixing, fortified wines, and then some harder stuff, rums, gin, vodka. A couple whiskeys and scotches were in there. Bottles of soda water sat with them.

She stared at the bottles, studying them. She pondered the shapes, the colored glass, the nicely designed labels with metallic colored lettering and flowy script and fancy words, and the irony that alcohol was invariably sold in bottles that were meant to stand out by having an appearance of good repute and class, looking tasteful and sophisticated, even while drinking itself was so often looked down at as distinctly the opposite of that image.

At least it was the way she found herself fantasizing about doing it.

The 80 proof hard stuff. That was her poison of late, the last times she'd been in that bar out there... Out there in J-town, up north... 80 proof, or harder when they had anything harder. Sometimes they got some real stiff moonshine in. That stuff was killer. That stuff would knock you off your hooves like nothing. Best bang for the bits by a longshot if you want a blackout night. But the usual 80 proof would work too. Whiskey or vodka, didn't matter, only difference was that one tasted woody and smoky and the other tasted mostly like nothing except the sharpness of alcohol's bitter bite and warm glow. But she wasn't in it for the taste, was she? No. Rum was okay, too, but sometimes the sugar could make her stomach a touch upset, especially drinking when she hadn't eaten much. Gin worked, but it tasted the way pine trees smell. It was kind of like licking an air freshener.

Vodka, she decided. That was really where her head was at. Goes down easy, as little taste as possible. As little thinking as possible. The most straight to the point of the options here. About five shots would do it, fired down in rapid succession. She'd drink them all before any of it hit, and then when it did, it would be in a rapidly rising wall of haze that blocked out caring much about anything. Five shots would make her nicely numbed and dazed. Anything anypony said would just roll off her passively, not sparking any stray thoughts, not triggering anything... It would get her to that kind of comfortable waking oblivion where she could just not deal with anything and just not give a buck. Then another occasional shot as a boost if the anesthetic effect started to fade away.

Part of her wanted that so badly right now. She wanted to just line 'em up and knock 'em down, five in a row nonstop.

She wouldn't be able to fly to get home if she did that. You don't drink like that and then fly, that was a hard and fast rule that she'd never broken and never would. But who cared? She knew perfectly well Applejack would let her crash here at her place for the night instead of letting a completely smashed friend wander off alone into the dark. At least she still knew that much. Applejack was always cool like that, and she hadn't changed.

Sleeping here wouldn't be a bad thing. Maybe that would actually be just what she needed. Maybe that was another good reason to get blitzed, because she could use a night on the ground, in a house that made some noise and had some other ponies living and moving around in it, instead of going back home alone to her cloud house, where it would be dead silent, and where she would just sit around in the dark with all her creeping thoughts and all the pictures in her head and all her waiting nightmares. Two nights in a row now, and she wasn't feeling great about facing number three.

She just didn't want to see it all again. It wasn't fair, was it? Now that she was home, to still have to see it? She was tired. She needed a break. It was supposed to be over.

Why wasn't it over?

Sure, it was unrealistic to expect it all to just be back to normal, like the last three years never happened. But she didn't want it to feel like it was *still* happening. She wanted some time off from thinking about it, from seeing it all in her mind's eye. She just... Needed a break. Worse than anything she'd ever needed before.

"Hey Rainbow Dash!" Pinkie Pie's voice suddenly broke into her awareness. She turned to look and the pink pony was standing right behind her, looking at her with the usual wide smile. "Gettin' a drink? Oooh, try the amaretto! It'd deeee-lish!"

Pinkie's voice brought her snapping out of her thoughts. That was a good question. Was she looking for a drink, really? Would it actually make anything better, or would it only remind her... Of... Of that place... Of that pony... And of after that pony was gone, the way she'd taken to drinking then... Would binge-drinking herself mostly senseless here and now really be that kind of break she was looking for, or would it just be the same thing all over again? Would it be comfortably numbing or would it be the worst kind of pain? Especially... Especially when she woke up the next day, hung over as hell, thinking again, and all those thoughts augmented by that unique kind of pounding pain that would only remind her of... Why she'd done it to herself before.

No. No way. She didn't want that at all. Not for a single second. No, her opinion rapidly swung, this was the most terrible idea she could be entertaining right now. There was a reason she stopped doing it out there, and why would that really be any different here? Did she want to fool herself into going through it all again, even once?

"Nahh..." Rainbow Dash turned to face the other table in the opposite direction. "I was... Just getting some juice or a soda or something," she said quickly.

"Aww, c'mon, live it up a little, Dashie." Pinkie Pie said. "It's your party. Tell you what, all your drinks are on me tonight!"

"It's an open bar. They're all free anyway," Rainbow Dash pointed out.

"Well, that just makes it even better. Like I said, on me!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed. "Have a beer or something. Oh, cider! You love cider!"

"Ehh... Y'know, Pinkie, actually I'm not much in the mood for anything hard right now," Rainbow Dash said. "Thanks, though."

"Are you alright, Rainbow?" Pinkie narrowed one eye and glared suspiciously at Rainbow Dash for a moment.

"I'm fine, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash said, "it's just not really a good idea to drink and fly, though, right?"

"What are you talking about?" Pinkie Pie asked cheerfully. "The party's still gonna be going for hours, you can have a drink or two and be just fine by the time it all wraps up."

"Actually..." Rainbow Dash felt slightly uncomfortable, and couldn't help looking like it. "Yeah... I was thinking I'm probably gonna call it good and head out kinda sooner rather than later..."

"What?! The hay you are!" Pinkie Pie protested. "You can't ditch your own welcome home party, Dashie!"

"And I'm not!" Rainbow Dash replied. "I'm here, aren't I? I appreciate it, Pinks. Thank you for all this. Really. I'm just still kinda worn out, though, with the long trip home and settling back in and everything. I'm... Just... Y'know. Not sure how much more partying I can take tonight. That's all."

"Oh! There's not too many ponies, are there, Dashie?" Pinkie asked, suddenly worried, prancing in place on her hooves. "I mean, I wanted everypony to have the chance to welcome you back and I didn't wanna leave anypony out, but I didn't think about that maybe it could be too much to be the center of attention this big and have to talk to all of them and have 'em all welcoming you home at the same time..."

"Nah, it's fine, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash reassured her. "it's cool."

"Okay. Well, at least grab a cider to take home before you go, even if you don't wanna drink one here." Pinkie Pie said. "I know you love it. It's why I made extra sure to have plenty."

"Uhhh... Hey, look..." Rainbow Dash began. She looked around, just a little, checking around herself. No other ponies were close enough to be within easy overhearing distance, for the moment. "Can I..."

Can I tell you something?

It's what Dash wanted to ask. After that first third of the way through, she'd stifled it, unable to believe that even that much had made it out. Yes, there was something she wanted to say... But... There was no way could bring herself to say it. She knew that. No way at all. There was no escaping the vulnerability in what that question really meant, if she followed through on its implications and actually told Pinkie Pie all it referred to.

Can I tell you some stuff that's going to completely change the way you see me? Can I tell you things that are going to upset you, disillusion you, make you sick, make you surprised at me, make you hate me for shocking you and destroying a little more of your innocence? Can I start telling you something, and then maybe that'll turn into something else, because I don't know if I can stop that torrent of telling once I let it start, and I'll probably be a sobbing mess of disjointed confessions and miserable regrets by the end? Can I just go ahead and unload on you and make myself look like a total basketcase without warning?

No. She couldn't tell her something. She couldn't talk about the reason she wanted to drink so badly, or the reason she didn't want to and wasn't going to. There was no easy or comfortable way to explain why she would not, in fact, be taking any cider or anything alcoholic home with her.

She couldn't tell Pinkie anything. Not her, not anypony. Nothing from out there. Nothing from those three years. Not yet.

But that slipup of wanting to, even when she couldn't, was there. That fragment of a question started but not finished was still hanging out there in the air.

"Yeah? What?" Pinkie Pie asked, looking at Rainbow Dash intently.

"Nothing. It's just been exhausting, Pinkie," Rainbow Dash covered, "that's all."

What a great party this was turning out to be. Buckin' awesome.

I gotta get out of here.

The thought suddenly ran through Rainbow Dash's mind, as soon as Pinkie Pie had wandered off to talk to some other partygoers and she was alone again. It was clear and lucid and imperative, more rational and more urgent seeming than anything else so far that day. The vague "kinda sooner rather than later" she'd mentioned to Pinkie Pie wasn't quick enough. Too open-ended, too indistinct. It could still mean a while. She needed to be gone before she could even think of slipping up like that again.

Nothing good is happening, this wasn't fun from the start and it's only getting worse. I gotta go. Soon. Real soon. Now.

How, though, without rousing any more unwanted curiosity? Maybe with some luck she'd be able to sneak away without being seen and manage to get home and hide in the sanctuary of her house behind a locked door and closed windows with the curtains drawn before anypony really noticed she was gone. She sort of doubted it, the rainbow hair was easy to pick out in a crowd, and conversely, easy to realize when it wasn't there anymore. But on the other hoof, how much longer did she want to deal with staying here, being the rainbow-maned question magnet?

Sometimes running away is the best a pony can do. She was glad she was by far the fastest pony in town.

Ugly

Born in Equestria

Ugly

As soon as she got home, Rainbow Dash locked the door and pulled the curtains on every window. Safe. No more ponies to cope with now.

Having not had much appetite or interest in eating there at the party, Rainbow Dash realized she was getting hungry. She wandered into her kitchen and looked around, though she knew there wasn't a lot to choose from. There was a welcome home basket of a bunch of vegetables that Applejack had given her from the farm sitting on the counter, and it was the only food in the house so far. She hadn't had much inclination to properly stock the fridge yet, with all the other work involved in coming home and moving back into her house. Dropping into a restaurant for something quick had been easier so far.

Not an option now, though. Not if she was going to stay hidden away for the time being.

And really, looking back at it, she was tired of doing that anyway. That was how the gradual buildup of fatigue over being welcomed home with questions had started, when random ponies around town had recognized her during her food and shopping runs and decided that since she was eating alone it would be alright to stop by at her table and chat. One even paid for her meal before she could stop it from happening, saying it would be her pleasure to buy lunch for a war hero.

"War hero"?

If only she knew.

If only these ponies knew.

Rainbow Dash remembered blushing under coat and feeling embarrassed when it happened. It was not in the good, flattered, that-was-so-nice-you-shouldn't-have embarrassed kind of way, either. Just the weirded out creepy kind of way. Maybe, she thought, she should feel more guilty about not feeling more grateful, but it was hard when she was pretty sure they weren't really buying lunch for her, they were buying it for some sad naïve idealization they had, a ghost who didn't exist. She didn't want that imaginary pony's lunch. She didn't deserve it. After that she'd taken to ordering to go and bringing her food back home as quickly and quietly as possible.

But... That was not something she had to worry about right now, fortunately. She turned her attention to the food at hoof.

The basket had some carrots in it, some cucumbers... Apples, of course... Some other fruits, a bunch of other vegetables. It didn't really matter to Rainbow Dash, there wasn't much growing on the Apple farm that she didn't like, and she wasn't about to look this gifthorse in the mouth. Good enough to fill her up for tonight.

She brought the basket to the kitchen table, along with a plate. She started eating her makeshift dinner, and while she did she kept half expecting for somepony to knock on her door, coming around to find out whether she was feeling alright or if anything was wrong after bailing out of a party that quickly.

Preplanned responses for their concerns already ran through her mind. She was just tired. That was about all she had to say about it. Yes, best to keep it simple and consistent, and not contradict what she'd already told Pinkie Pie. It wasn't a lie, anyway, she really was tired.

Tired of the questions. Tired of...

Just tired.

Three years of being drained leaves a pony nothing but tired.

Three years of being afraid and being angry and being sad and being pushed and being under pressure and being alone. Three years of killing and being killed. Three years of impromptu funerals in the field. Three years of cremations for pegasi and griffins and burials for earth ponies and unicorns. Three years of struggling to get through the day, three years of trying to support other ponies when they were the ones who were breaking down and just couldn't take it anymore. Three years of being dirty. Three years of being hurt. Three years of nervously scanning the skies and watching her six while foraging for decent grass or wildflowers or anything with some actual flavor to suppliment the food the army managed to get to them. Three years of getting a letter from her friends or her family being a sporatic luxury that was never guaranteed. Three years of understanding but not understanding and hoping desperately it would make some kind of sense later with a clearer, more distant view.

Three years of trying to hold on to something, to remember what she was before, to not lose herself... Three years of trying, struggling, clinging with everything she had, not to lose loyalty.

Three years of the war machine.

Once she'd gotten herself started, it was all she could think about while she sat there eating.

Why was this all she ever thought about now? It drove her crazy and it made her upset and frustrated that it wouldn't leave when it was supposed to be over. She needed something to take her mind off of it. She'd sit here and think about it and stress over it all night if she let herself. A distraction was the most important thing for her right now. Without that, this would be another complete hell of a night. She could feel it heading that way.

Still chewing the end of a carrot, she walked to her bedroom and over to the bookshelf.

She spotted a well-liked title on a comfortingly familiar book spine. Daring Do. The first one, where her career as a real reader had taken off strong, for reasons not all that different than now, as a distraction to help her through an unpleasant time. Yes, perfect. Fitting. She pulled it from the shelf and returned to the kitchen.

Rainbow Dash sat at the table, with the book open to the beginning, and started reading it. She'd read it before, of course, but not for years. The story as far as the overall plotline was concerned was well known to her, but there was still an enjoyable sense of rediscovery in each paragraph and sentence as she read them. It drew her in, the way she loved in a good story, and she let it. She willed it to do so. She just wanted to forget about everything else for now, and this... Well, she couldn't think of anything that would do it better. It was much healthier, anyway, than the next closest option of trying to block it all out with the dull foggy numbness of alcohol.

Still, though, it was true that she was tired, and after an hour or so of reading, she was closing in on exhausted. No amount of immersiveness in the story could overcome that, only cover it up from her more immediate consciousness. Eventually she kept finding her head bobbing forward, and the page she was on seeming to rise up toward her face on its own until the end of her muzzle was almost touching it, before she would catch herself and sit back up to read a little more. The process repeating with increasing frequency each time was the last thing she remembered that night.

Rainbow Dash began coming to, disoriented because when she opened her eyes she could see that the kitchen was, oddly, tilted 90 degrees with respect to the usual horizontal angle of the plane of the floor, which was now vertical.

Turned sideways? But how... Oh. Wait. No, that doesn't make any sense...

It wasn't actually tilted, she realized, her head was just laying on its side on the table. That was why she was a bit sore, too, where her head came into contact with what was beneath it. It was uncomfortable, resting on... Something hard? But not quite the table's surface. Something flat, though. Paper. The texture felt papery. She'd fallen asleep on her book. Her still sleepy mind pieced all this together quickly enough. She'd fallen asleep reading.

Well. That explains it.

She must have been out for a while, too. Last she remembered, it was the middle of the night, but now it was obviously not, since there was an aura of sunlight in all the windows seeping in around the curtains and blinds and gently illuminating the interior of the house.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, and the kitchen righted itself. She looked down at the table. The book was still open to where she'd stopped reading. Hopefully the weight of her head on the pages all night long hadn't done anything too terrible to the book's spine. It looked okay at first glance, not creased too badly.

Strange, she couldn't help but think. Usually when she drifted off like this, it was only for a few minutes or so. Then she woke up again, finally admitted to herself that she was too tired to keep reading, and got in bed to go get some real sleep. Maybe she should go do that, she considered, even if it was morning already.

Actually, though... After sitting up for a minute, she realized that she felt pretty good. The time she was out cold on her book had flown by instantly, untroubled by dreams or anything else. She felt like she had just really rested. That felt like a first for the past couple days or so. She stood up and stretched, and it went from feeling pretty good to a brief couple minutes of feeling absolutely divine as she extended her legs, flexed her range of motion, gave her back a few twists and spread her wings as far as they would go. She stretched out every limb until her mucles gave her little shivers and her tendons stood out like tightened ropes under her skin as they reached their limits. The movement sped up her heart and got her blood flowing, spreading a gentle sense of warmth through her. It felt... She wasn't sure what word said how it felt, when she thought about it.

In the end, she concluded that just enjoying those sublime sensations was more important than overthinking it. When it's the first time you feel good - really good - in days, you don't pick it to death.

In that moment, the day seemed like maybe it would be an enjoyable one. Optimism seized her, she walked over to the nearest window and pulled up the blinds.

Bright and sunny and beautiful. Her mood lifted even more.

Maybe today would be different.

She hoped so, because she still had a lot to do.

Like get the fountain with its rainbow cascade back up and running! She smiled. The thought was motivating, and the vision of it filled her mind.

The fountain had been deactivated and drained for the last three years while she'd been away. She'd arranged for Fluttershy have a key to the house to let herself in and peek around once a week or so to make sure the place wasn't falling apart, which Fluttershy was fine with, but asking somepony else to take care of something unnecessary like the fountain wasn't exactly fair to them and Dash wasn't about to ask that much, so it had been turned off. All the equipment should still be good, but it would take some doing to fill the system back up, get the pump going and the mist catching the sun's light and diffracting it into rainbow colors, and get it all circulating again. She hadn't placed too high a priority on it so far, but now she realized how longingly she wanted to see it again. It was one of the things that made this place really feel like home, the way she remembered it had been. Maybe having it back, seeing the rainbow spray and hearing the gentle soothing white noise of rain and flowing water it made, would help her.

And at the least, it would get her outside the house for the morning, wouldn't it? Out into the sun. That'd be nice.

So she made up her mind. That would be her project for the morning, while she had the inspiration and the energy.

A quick trip to the Ponyville hardware store later, Rainbow Dash had the energy cell, a crystal infused with magical force, that would power the pump. She'd found the old one in a closet where she'd stored it before she left, but it was flat and lifeless after such a long time. Maybe she'd look into getting it recharged later, since those things weren't cheap and a spare was always good to have around, but it was quicker right now to just get a new one.

She installed the cell into its holder, and briefly jogged the switch for the pump on and off. It spun to life for a brief second before it stopped again, proving that it still worked. So far, so good, though she wouldn't want to run it without water in the system for any longer than that brief test since the pump could overheat and burn up otherwise.

With that in mind, getting water into the system was next. That wouldn't be too hard, she'd get water from the same place she'd always gotten water for her house in the sky: grab a stray raincloud not earmarked for any weather team use and squeeze it out. Well, "squeezing" was metaphorically speaking, getting the rain to fall was more of a process of knowing how to buck the cloud properly to induce the microscopic vapor droplets to coalesce together into raindrops that would fall where they were wanted. But Dash had no lack of skill at accomplishing that.

She found a cloud with sufficient moisture in it and got the rain to fall and fill the reservior for the system easily enough. Then she went back to the pump. It had a small bleed valve at the top, to check and make sure that it was primed with water instead of trapping air. She cracked it open and sure enough, a small stream of water came out until she shut it again. Good to go.

Time to make things awesome.

She hit the switch. The pump spun and made noise. It was a lower pitch than when she tested the pump with air in it, with the resistance of the liquid reducing its speed to what it was designed to properly run at. But that was the only real noise. There wasn't any sound of falling water, or any other movement. The pump was pushing, but the water didn't seem to be flowing.

Looking for the source of the problem, Dash left the pump going for the moment and flew out to the first and highest cascade of water - or where it should have been, anyway. It was still dry. Must have been a clog or a blockage somewhere in the system, between there and the pump... She moved in for a closer look at the outlet where water was supposed to be coming from.

Suddenly, whatever obstruction was preventing the flow broke loose and water gushed out energetically without warning, erupting in a brief spray before dying down to the gentle rivulet it was supposed to be. Unfortunately for Rainbow Dash, that spray happened to follow a trajectory running directly through where she was standing in the basin, and as such, the gush of water hit her, leaving her soaked from head to hoof and nose to tail.

Not so awesome.

It smelled funny, too. She looked down and saw that the water was dingy, with a dark grey cast and was murky, only partially transparent.

"Aww, gross." She mumbled to herself, making a disgusted face.

She hadn't thought about it before, but now that she did it dawned on her that she probably should have realized this would happen. The whole system was either made of cloud or resting in a foundation of cloud material, and clouds are particularly great at one thing apart from being comfortable and soft: they're total dust sponges. Any kind of dust blowing around in the atmosphere was liable to end up trapped in a cloud at some point, and these clouds had been sitting around with nothing and nopony to clean them out for three years. Of course they were going to be dirty.

The inside of the house wasn't so bad, with Fluttershy there to occasionally keep an eye on it and the interior construction cloud being pretty well designed to not trap much dust anyway. The outside surfaces were mostly alright, too, with rain every now and then rinsing them off. But inside the piping and the stuff that nopony had touched in all that time and nothing could remove the slow accumulation of dust from, well, it was filthy... Grimy... Gritty, but also somehow almost vaguely greasy at the same time... Rainbow Dash was really disliking the sensations it left in her coat, her skin, and her mane.

It just plain felt disgusting.

She instinctively convulsed her shoulders and her haunches back and forth energetically in a twisting motion for a moment, shaking out the water like a dog as best she could. Some of the heavyness of the water's weight went away but it didn't really help, she still felt just as dirty.

The thing that bothered her was that this feeling felt... Familiar.

It reminded her.

In an unwelcome way it reminded her of too many things. It reminded her of being sweaty and grimy from hours of wearing armor. It reminded her of feeling gritty from ashes settling in her coat. The way her wet mane hung in limp stringy strands, tangled up and all the colors darkened, felt like every other time she'd been drenched or splashed with something unpleasant. The greyness of the dirty water clung to her coat, dulling its color, like she was...

Like she was changed back. Pulled back... Back to the pony who did the things that made her feel so dirty, so filthy. So disgusting. So low.

Angry tension ran down her spine. She shuddered with it.

Buck!!! She suddenly wanted to scream. Why?! This isn't me anymore!

There was nothing to scream at, though. She looked down. There was just a dark, wavering reflection of herself in the thin pool of dingy deep grey water.

Frustration and resentment flared through her. The welling emotion was so hard to fight, try as she would to stay calm. For just a short moment, a sob welled up into her throat, but she choked it, staying quiet and contained. She swallowed it down, forcing herself to stop and stay composed.

No. Not like this, not here. Not outside.

Her ears were burning hot and her eyes watered. They became warm and misty with crystal clear tears, but she didn't let herself break down. She blinked them away.

Not while she was still standing here, hoof deep in filthy water. Not here, in this utter lack of dignity.

Being dirtied and defeated was one thing. Being abjectly humiliated, admitting to the world she was broken - that was something else. Not even the worst of the savage physical and mental beatings she suffered in three years had brought her down to that.

So how could she be so dangerously close now?

Because it isn't supposed to be happening here. I'm not supposed to have to think about this now.

It's supposed to be over.

The bitter unfairness of the thought echoed in her head. There wasn't anything she could do about it. Slowly, she unfolded her wings and flapped, lifting herself up to hover in the air. She shook off her hooves, dripping murky water back down. She hovered her way over to the pump, and thought about flipping the switch off, but some corner of her mind that somehow managed to keep itself eerily distant and detached and logical realized it'd be best to just let it run for a while. The water would hold the dust, as long as it kept flowing and didn't get the chance to settle out, and she'd change it and replace it with clean water later until all of this junk was flushed out. Her project to get the fountain going properly again wasn't done, it would just have to be on hold for now.

So screw it, let the pump go. All she wanted at the moment was to get inside the house.

A slow hover, trying not to drip or track the foul liquid around, was the best she could manage. It got the job done. She got through the door and pushed it shut behind her with the edge of one rear hoof.

From there she went through the living room and to the bathroom, finally landing and coming to rest in the shower.

She sat motionless, and stared forward at the wall of the shower. There was no noise once she stopped moving. She looked at nothing in particular, and found herself getting lost in the nondescript blank surface. It was quiet, absorbingly and hypnotizingly silent, in the house, just like it had been for the past few days. There was no reason for it to be otherwise. She was the only pony in the house, and all she was doing was sitting on the cold shower floor, motionless, feeling the slight chill of being soaked. Diffuse daylight came in through the frosted window of the bathroom. Even that light seemed cold, casting the room in slightly blue hues.

Quiet.

So quiet.

So cold. So alone.

Just staring at a blank white wall. Starting to shiver, bit by bit, as the chill set in ever more.

She was anchorless. That was suddenly the only real sense in her mind. She was lost. She was in limbo. She wasn't still out there but she wasn't home. She didn't feel like she'd changed but she didn't feel the same.

This... Whatever this was... The undefinable feeling of really being nowhere... Was not what she wanted to be. She wanted her old life back. A sense of loss and longing overwhelmed her. She wanted her old mind back, her old way that she remembered, from before she'd left, of being able to just... Be happy, feel good about herself, at least most of the time. Nothing's ever perfect but there was a time when she really liked her life and who she was.

She blinked and shook her head, taking a deep breath and wresting herself out of the mesmerization of the silence and blankness as best she could.

Well, she would have it again. Determination steeled itself up and ran through her and she gritted her teeth.

And it would start being reclaimed now.

She reached out and turned the water on. It was cold at first but quickly warmed up until it was comfortable and soothing, and her shivering went away.

The water that ran off of her was tinted with hazy dark grey, at first, but soon ran clear and clean, and watching that transformation brought her no end of satisfaction.

By the time she was out of the shower and toweling off, Rainbow Dash felt much better. There was no more of the gritty or greasy feeling in her coat, no more funny smell, and of course no more discoloration. She looked like her old self again. The mirror showed her something more familiar and more welcomed than the mess she'd been a little while ago. Bright sky blue coat. Vivid rainbow-striped mane of straight hair, still damp but beginning to regain volume as it dried back to its usual trademark slightly wild, loose and not overgroomed look.

She ran the towel over her sides and smoothed down her drying coat. It pushed the hairs down into a uniform direction, forming the illusion of a surface that almost shimmered with a clean shine. On the left side, she paused and frowned. Three parallel stripes running at an angle down her side, the fur of her coat refusing to smooth out evenly, were left in a permanent state of looking ruffled, the hairs growing in haphazard directions, like three long narrow cowlicks. It was subtle, but noticable. No matter how she pushed them down, there wasn't much improvement.

The scars.

They were something she hadn't thought much about for a long time, the marks of the vicious claw-raking some griffin had given her, cutting her open in ugly but shallow gashes. She remembered getting them stitched. Her memory replayed it, briefly, involunarily. It struck her at the time, how it oddly didn't hurt at all like she'd expected. The doc used some kind of novocaine or lidocaine or some other painkiller numbing spray that made her skin completely dead to all sensation before she started sewing it up. But after it wore off, the stitches itched like nothing else, and it drove her crazy with the intensity for a few days and she had to constantly fight not to scratch. Other than that, it was really no big deal. She'd been back up and flying patrols again the next day after it happened.

It had been... What? A year and a half since then? More? She didn't even remember, exactly. That was how little she really thought about them. They were old. They would never heal completely smoothly, the hairs would grow back in at random angles instead of consistent uniformity, but it caused no problems, and no physical pain, so they were easy to forget - provided, that is, she didn't have much concern for the particulars of her appearance. She usually didn't.

But the old Rainbow Dash looked a certain way, and she didn't have these scars. These were something brought back, a souvenir that she couldn't just set aside somewhere.

They were just another reminder that she didn't want shoved in her face right now. They marred the reclamation of image, undermining the comforting cleaning effect of the shower that had otherwise helped settle her back down.

I just can't get away, can I?

A wave of depression dragged at her.

But it wasn't as bad as before. She fought it, bucking up under the weight. No. She couldn't just give up too easily. She'd already come so close to winning this victory today. She could finish it, and then with the momentum behind her, she could win another... And another, and another, whatever it took. No one ever said that things would be easy, all she could do was keep trying.

There had to be a way to fix this, to not have to see them.

Rainbow Dash walked into the Carousel Boutique later that afternoon, and the little bell attached to the door rang softly behind her. Rarity emerged from her studio room and into the main gallery, expecting a customer.

When Rarity saw who it was, she broke into a friendly smile and enthusiastically greeted Rainbow Dash with a hug. "Rainbow! How are you? We've hardly had the chance to talk since you've been back. I'm sorry about that, I think we've just both been so busy..." She seemed guilty.

"Oh, yeah," Rainbow Dash nodded, "moving back in is a lot of work, and I know you're always busy with trying to fill the orders you get. But business has to come first, right?"

"Yes. You know how it is. I'm so glad you stopped by, though! Won't you come on in for a while? I can afford some time off and I could use a good break. I'd love to spend some time and get all caught up, if you'd like."

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash smiled back, "I was kinda hoping you'd be able to. I'd like to hang out together for a while."

"Anything for a friend, Rainbow." Rarity nodded. "Hungry at all? There should be something in the kitchen to snack on. Let's just go see..."

The white unicorn walked out of the showroom and into the kitchen, and Rainbow Dash followed. "I hope your process of settling back in here at home is going smoothly enough," Rarity said, as she magically gripped the refrigerator door and pulled it open, rummaging around.

"Actually, Rarity..." Rainbow Dash said hesitantly. "About that... Yeah. Part of the reason I'm here is 'cause I could use some help with something, and it's... Kinda your thing. At least the most out of anypony I really know."

"Oh?" Rarity's curiosity was piqued. "What is it, Rainbow? Whatever it is, you know you'll only get my best." She turned away from the fridge to look at Rainbow Dash.

"Well..." Rainbow Dash looked at the white unicorn, then turned slightly at an angle so that she was still facing Rarity but her left side was also clearly visible. She looked down at her side briefly, at the scarred parallel lines running down it, and back at Rarity again. Dash's eyes had the look of worry kept under a veil, the face of somepony troubled but trying not to show it.

"So, uhh... What can we do about these?"

Beautiful Mare

Born in Equestria

Beautiful Mare

In the Carousel Boutique's studio, Rarity stood facing Rainbow Dash's left side, patiently working at her coat with a short-bristled, stiff brush. She ran it down Dash's side over and over again, always in the same downward direction, trying to coax all the hairs into alignment consistent with the rest of the coat to make the three parallel scars vanish.

A few minutes went by, with Rarity quietly working and Rainbow Dash obligingly holding still. She wasn't usually into too much in the way of grooming and would normally have felt silly letting this be done to her, but it was actually kind of nice this time. The rhythmic brushing had a kind of massaging effect that felt good. She was a little self-conscious, but there was only one other pony around, and it was one she could trust. She relaxed and slipped into to just enjoying it, staring forward and not thinking about anything in particular.

"I'm afraid these are quite stubborn," Rarity stated after a while, pausing for a moment and studying the lines intently. Rainbow Dash turned her head to look at them herself. It was true, they were still visible despite her friend's efforts.

"It's... Getting a little better than it was, I suppose. At least your coat looks wonderful, if I do say so myself... But these marks are nowhere near gone," Rarity spoke again. She resumed brushing, and continued for another few minutes in silence.

Once again, Rainbow Dash allowed herself to start getting lost in the pleasant feel of being brushed, although she could tell that Rarity was still not meeting with a lot of success. If she had been, she would have been happily humming or making the little noises of approval she always did when she was making progress on creating something of beauty. There was no such sound right now from the unicorn, only a silent glare of concentration and a slight frown.

"I know it's not my business, but I have to confess... I was wondering about these, to be honest," Rarity finally said after another few minutes, still brushing, and still staring with intensity at the scars she was trying to smooth over, "though of course I didn't want to say anything, not knowing how sensitive a subject it might be for you."

"Well, there isn't really that much to tell about 'em, and don't worry, I'm not sensitive about it at all." Rainbow Dash said. "Usually."

"I see," Rarity gave her a little nod.

"I don't even know why I'm all worked up about this now," Rainbow Dash said doubtfully. "I never cared before."

Actually, she had a pretty good idea of why the scars had suddenly bothered her enough to want to erase their appearance. She just didn't much want to get into it, not with her current companion. Rarity was... Her heart was in the right place. She wanted to help when she could, in her own way. But how could she understand what these meant? How could Rainbow Dash explain this?

She couldn't. That was the thing. Like it was with so many others, there was no explaining it to her. Not to this pony. She was a great friend, but there was no getting around that they were different. Rarity thought it was just cosmetic, just a matter of looking pretty. That was what mattered to her. So let her think that.

"It's not like it really matters," Dash mumbled, barely audibly, half to Rarity and half to herself in response to her own thoughts.

The rhythm of downward strokes on Dash's side stopped. There was a heavy, long moment of silence. Rainbow Dash wondered if it was what she said that brought it on, or if Rarity was just finally done with the extent of what she could do with what she had to work with.

Rarity set down her brush, and walked around from Rainbow Dash's side to stand in front of her. She gently lifted one forehoof under Dash's chin and pushed up, then lightly brushed aside some of the disorderly forelocks of her mane out of her face, clearing it away from partially covering her rose colored eyes.

"Of course it matters," the unicorn looked at her friend's face, and smiled softly, warmly. The gaze of her blue eyes held Rainbow Dash entranced for a moment.

"You know, you're a beautiful mare, Rainbow," Rarity said. "Even if you don't always seem to be interested in acknowledging that. Maybe even more when you don't, just because it's still true even so. But it's always been there."

Rainbow Dash was unsure of what exactly to make of this, and taken aback. "Huh? Why are you telling me that?" she asked, wondering what Rarity was getting at.

"Because I think that sometimes you just need to hear it from somepony," Rarity said. "Because it's true, and because I think... Well, I think very often it seems as if you tend to forget it or just ignore it because you're always focused on other things. I think that maybe this is one of those times when you need somepony to say it and help you feel like a mare. A pretty one. You're many things, my dear Rainbow Dash, but one of the most fundamental of those things is that you're a mare."

"Not the fussy kind, I'm not," Rainbow Dash said. "Not like this."

"Doesn't matter," Rarity shook her head. "Every mare has the right to care about how she looks. It's only natural, even if only once in a while. She's entitled to it, so don't deny yourself that when you need it. Don't ever think that that's a weakness, caring about yourself and wanting to feel good about your appearance. If you don't feel good about yourself first, how are you ever going to do anything good for anypony else?"

"I guess you are the one who knows about generosity," Rainbow Dash said.

"I try," Rarity said modestly, with a small smile.

Rainbow Dash thought for a moment. She was a mare, right? Odd question that she'd never considered before. Was she a mare? On the surface, it seemed ridiculous to ask, one of those things so obvious and so taken for granted that it never usually occurred to anypony to need any thought. Of course she was, at least the last time she checked. All her life, for that matter, as far as she knew. Only girl parts back there. Not like it just changes at random all by itself, does it?

But... Maybe... Maybe that wasn't such a silly question, in a more important sense than the superficial and strictly physical. Maybe Rarity could be on to something here, in a way?

A little bit of something dawned on her, as she thought about it and realized it was hard sometimes to remember really feeling like one.

When was the last date she'd been on?

She couldn't remember.

Last time she'd been given flowers by a romantically inclined admirer? Last time she'd gotten a sincerely amorous Hearts & Hooves day card? Chocolates? Anything?

Heck, even just plain getting laid, whether by a stallion or another mare, ceremoniously or not?

Never, to all of the above. Her sex life, when she actually felt the desire and somehow had the energy left for it (challenging things, for much the last three years), mostly consisted of clopping off to satiate the physical urge and then drifting to sleep while she still felt warm and calm and relaxed. Enjoyable enough to provide some relief from the stress of the day for a little while, and much better than drinking herself to sleep, anyway. But strictly a single player activity.

She was a mare, but somepony who read her life story without knowing that could have been fooled. Not that she'd seem any more discernably like a stallion, though. It would probably be close to indeterminate one way or the other... But with the important exception, she reminded herself on thinking a bit further about it, of the fact that her best friends were all other girls, and of the occasional times she'd been talked into fancy dresses and other such typically 'girly' activity (though it may have usually been with reluctance, it could still happen).

Well, at least in Ponyville there had been those things, the occasional dress and the hanging out with other girls. It wasn't a lot but it was... It was something. It may have been a long and loose tether and easy to drift far and wide on, lots of wiggle room for ambiguity and exploration, but at least there was that little bit of an anchor.

The critical thing was having the decision. She was able to choose her comfort level. If there wasn't a whole lot of feminine expression, that was still by choice. That was her living the way she wanted, being just as much of a mare as she wanted and needed to be to feel satisfied. It was definition enough.

Outside Ponyville, though... Up north... For three years, there hadn't even been that. There had been nothing. Absolutely nothing at all. That cord was cut. No anchor, no reference... No hints for the reader of the Rainbow Dash story.

Might as well just flip a coin. Or not even bother with any notion of determining or assigning a gender, for how much it seemed to matter.

Machines don't have a gender, do they?

With that sudden thought, a stark and profound realization broke over Rainbow Dash's mind. It was as if a light went on in her head, unveiling a whole new piece of a truth that was right there in front of her all the time and just never comprehended fully. She saw for the first time in a way that left her almost stunned what a basic piece of herself she'd been stripped of and not even consciously grasped that absence.

"I... Uhhh... Jeeze. Wow. Y'know, Rarity, I think you're right," Rainbow Dash said. "I think somepony telling me I'm still a mare is something I've needed to hear for a while. I haven't heard it much before now. Probably not at all in the last three years."

"I suppose it could be hard in..." Rarity paused. "Well, in your situation. Out there."

"Not just hard. Impossible," Rainbow Dash shook her head. "It was... It was gone. I never saw it like that before, but really... I mean... Just gone. At least that's how I feel, looking back at it now."

"I'm... Not sure I understand, exactly," Rarity said.

"I mean, for the last three years I was effectively not a mare at all," Rainbow Dash said.

"But how could that be true?" Rarity asked. "You still had all the... Well, you know..."

Rainbow Dash sighed. It was a weird concept. How to put this in terms that made it relatable...? She pondered for a moment.

Something occured to her. "Alright... It's like this. Just because somepony has a sewing machine doesn't make them a fashion designer, does it?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"No. That could be an important underlying part of it, but they're not a designer unless they..." Rarity's eyes widened a bit and she nodded with comprehension. "Unless they design. Right. It's the things they do and the ways they think and feel, not just the parts they have."

"Exactly," Rainbow Dash said. "It's kinda like that side of you... It gets almost like, erased. Mares and stallions both. They just... Stopped existing as separate things. There were only ponies. Only ma-"

Only machines.

Somthing stopped her from saying that word out loud.

"Only soldiers," She continued. "They gave us all the same stuff, we all did the same job, male or female. The same armor. The same weapons. There was really no difference."

"Surely they had to separate some things." Rarity said.

"A few, I guess. But not as many as you might think," Rainbow Dash said. "Looking back at it, about the only thing that was really separated was that there were separate male and female doctors and corpsponies if you ever went to medical, and that was only because that could get... Uncomfortably personal otherwise. Other than that, though, really nothing."

"Oh, Rainbow Dash," Rarity said sympathetically. "Never being able to really feel like a mare at all? I just can't imagine what that's like. I really can't."

"I couldn't have either, before I went through it," Rainbow Dash said. "And I hope you never have to."

Rarity hugged Rainbow Dash. "You poor thing," She said. "You've made a lot of sacrifices for all of us, haven't you?"

"I'm still alive," Rainbow Dash shrugged indifferently. Sympathy was uncomfortable, chafing and irritant. She just wanted to brush it aside and have no more said in that kind of vein. It felt worst of all coming from a close friend. Of all the ponies who didn't really seem to know her anymore, having to sense it in her best friends hurt the most.

"And for that, I could not be more thankful," Rarity nodded. "It's so good to have you back, finally."

"I don't know if I am all the way back yet," Rainbow Dash said.

"I suppose that... These things take time," Rarity said. "Don't they?"

"Yeah," Rainbow Dash said quietly. She stared at the floor.

A heavy silence lay in the air for a span of time that was short but felt like forever.

"Well, you take all the time you need, and I'll be here for you," Rarity said, finally breaking it. "Remember that you really are beautiful, and these scars don't change that. Not the tiniest bit. And if anypony tries to tell you so..." She grinned, slightly. "Just let me know, and they will find themselves answering to me."

Rainbow Dash smiled back a little and nodded reflexively, but knew that it wouldn't be a problem. Nopony ever had said anything negative about her being scarred.

What had ever been said about her scars, for that matter? Really not much, aside from once, right after she'd gotten them. It was her flight leader, a longtime veteran soldier. He just nodded a bit, approvingly, when he saw them the first time. It was almost like he was congratulating her. He said not to feel ashamed of them. He said that they were an honorable mark. They were proof written on her forever, for anypony to see, that she'd been there and done her part for Equestria.

Other than that, there was the odd curious glance once in a while, but little else. She'd never been made to feel ugly or unattractive for having them.

At least not physically.

But that weight they carried... On the inside. She was still left with the same old question she'd had at the beginning of her visit with Rarity. How could she ever explain that? Proof written on her forever. Proof of the last three years, reminding her of all the horrors that all she wanted was to bury and forget forever, to just not think about anymore. How could she even begin to talk about it, especially to her friend, to a pony like Rarity, who she wanted nothing more than to protect from the agony of those very things?

But she had to say something. It was killing her, keeping everypony away from ever discussing it... Tearing her in two opposite directions. She wanted them to understand but she didn't want to expose them to understanding these things she wished she'd never had to herself.

She was alone.

It was another tiring thing. She was just... Tired of being so alone with it.

It was too much.

She needed some kind of relief. It wouldn't stay inside any more. Something had to be yielded up.

"Y'know, Rare, these scars... I guess... It's not... About wanting to be pretty or feel like a mare. I mean, you're right about that, and it's also its own separate thing to deal with, too, I guess, but not really the one that these are about, exactly. It's not really so much the way they look..." Rainbow Dash felt the words sort of stumble out, while she was trying to collect her thoughts and translate them into words that articulated her negative feelings but without being too revealing, too close to home. It was a hard balancing act, being conflicted with herself. "It's the way they... Feel. It's the way they... Remind me of... You know. Of some stuff."

"Oh?" Rarity said casually, now idly spinning the brush in the air using her horn's telekinesis. "What kinds of... Stuff?"

"I... Uh... I'd actually rather not talk about specific things," Dash said. "Y'know?"

"Alright," Rarity nodded. "I understand. Is there anypony you can talk about those... Things... With, though?"

"Not really," Rainbow Dash shook her head.

She wished so badly that there was.

"Well, it might help you feel better if you did," Rarity said. "Especially..." She sighed. "Given our, I'll be honest, somewhat limited success here."

"Oh," Rainbow Dash said, unsurprised. That was about what she'd been expecting to hear. "Kinda hopeless, huh?"

"Oooh, now..." Rarity laughed her nervous little I've-got-bad-news-but-I'm-being-tactful laugh. "I wouldn't say *completely* hopeless... It's just that... Ehh... Well, you know, brushing helps but it can only do so much. I have to be upfront, it's still going to be visible, just less prominent. Your coat can't just be fixed like that. Now, I know of a few skin lotions, with collagen and some good moisturizers and things, and those can help reduce scarring and really smooth skin back down over time with regular use, but..." She sighed. "These, frankly, are not minor, they may never go away completely even using that. I'm sorry."

"Awww, it's alright," Rainbow Dash waved one forehoof. "No big deal. I know you're doin' what you can, it wouldn't be fair to expect a miracle or anything."

"I wish I could offer you one," Rarity said contritely. "I really do."

"Yeah, well..." Rainbow Dash smiled a little. "Next time you find one, try and save it for somepony who needs something more important than this. I can live with it."

Can I, though?

Good question.

Underneath her brave face, her shell, the tough girl who didn't put her sense of worth in her looks... She knew that it was a very good question.

Big Bad Wolf

Born in Equestria

Big Bad Wolf

The row of lights set over the mirror in the bathroom created an island of warm illumination in the night, spilling out into an otherwise dark cloud house. In the middle of that radiant oasis, Rainbow Dash stood still and stared into the mirror. Everything was so quiet that a pin drop would have been audible, and every breath she took, no matter how soft, seemed to fill up the void of the silence with the rushing noise of just that gentle movement of air.

She'd been standing there for the last couple minutes, since she'd woken up from... She wasn't sure. Some kind of dream. She knew it was, but it was disorienting and she was disturbed by the way she couldn't remember. It was normal for dreams to slip away quickly, but this... This was so lucid feeling that it should have been clearly recalled with ease, and not being able to was like having blacked-out lost time in her own life. It was there but it was gone, like being drunk to the point at which everything was hazy and the world moved along second by second, the one happening right now being all she was aware of and the one that had just past forgotten as soon as it was over. It left feelings, it left impressions, strong ones, but no consciousness of specifics that fit together in any logical way.

It was bits and pieces that were left, jumbled and out of order in a disjointed narrative like having a few random torn out pages to a book and being able to make out the tone of the story and almost a gist of what the plot might be but not enough to know much for sure. Things flashed in and out and jumped around.

The sensation of mystery was deeply unsettling. It was like finding a huge cut on herself and not knowing how she got it.

Out of what she could recall, most strongly she remembered being different. Somehow she was... Different. She was not what she was now that she was awake and looking at herself in the bathroom here in the earliest hours of the new day.

Her face stared back at her from the mirror, and she studied it, closely. Her own rose-colored eyes looked back at her, illuminated brightly in the bathroom lights. Points of light glinted off of them, reflections of the lights above her. These lights were warmer, more yellow, but a scrap of something recalled a cooler silvery light, a muted one, alone in an inky blackness. In the meandering bubble of that memory she knew that they were the same eyes that she recalled somehow looking up, from another mirror, one made of still water instead of glass, and it was in the dark of the night outside somewhere, lit only by the light of the moon, instead of these artificial bulbs. In that reflection in the dark, her eyes were hers but her face was a different build. Her muzzle was longer and more sharply pointed, with a smaller hairless nose, and... The tips of teeth... Sharp teeth, long and conical, predatory canines, protruding from her mouth just a bit.

Why were her teeth different? She didn't understand.

She remembered suddenly reaching out with a forelimb to touch that mirror, dipping it into the water, and as the reflection broke apart into expanding ripples at the disturbance there was the feel of the cold liquid. The sensation of chill and wetness hitting her was a shock. Hooves were just solid growths of hard tissue, like a horn. They had no nerve endings and no sense of touch or temperature. If she'd had a hoof at the end of her leg, she couldn't have felt the water like that. But she did feel it, because there wasn't a hoof, there was a paw, divided up into pads, each ending in a long, sharp claw. It was like a dog's, like what she remembered Winona's paws looking like from every time she was at Applejack's and the farmpony's pet jumped up on her and licked her in an excited greeting, but it was also bigger and heftier, stronger seeming than what a mere dog would have.

What was this creature?

"Who are you?" She asked, loudly, sternly, staring angrily into the mirror of her bathroom, bathed in bright light.

She stared, examining the face staring back at her intensely. She took in all the detail, every hair, line, nuance, contour of bone and skin, looking for an answer somewhere in them. While she studied, her expression of anger dropped away slowly, fading into a neutral gaze.

There was nothing. It was just the face of a pony. Just an ordinary pony. Sky blue coat. Rose colored eyes. Mane hair of mixed reds, oranges, and yellow falling forward making up her bangs. It was the same face that was always there, her whole life.

It was there before she left.

It was there now that she was back.

And it was there the whole time in between. It was there every day of training, it was there in every patrol, it was there on the front line while she was fighting, it was there in every battle, every house cleared, every griffin killed and captured, every friend lost, every injury, every ambush, every mercifully quiet day when nothing happened.

It was the same face, the same skin, always, no matter what the pony... The thing... The... Machine... Wearing it did. No matter how it acted.

When that thing did something that splattered blood on that skin, on that face, that was just fine, because blood washes right off. Good as new. Like it never happened, like those griffins had never been torn apart, never been kicked to death or smashed in the head with a rapidly swinging steel ball, or...

Or grabbed in those vicious jaws with their long pointed teeth and ripped asunder while they struggled ineffectually in terror, held down by those strong, meaty paws with the big claws they bore sinking into them.

It was the same skin, now and always, feigning innocence like she didn't remember all the things she'd done in it those three years. It was the same, like there wasn't suddenly a flash of recollection, images of chasing them down in the dark, feeling the sheerest delight in the hunt, in cornering them deep in the trackless midnight forest where they were lost in panic but she knew every twist and turn, where they didn't stand a chance, and where she savored the feel of rending flesh and destroying her enemies relentlessly, one after another, while they could do nothing to stop her.

They were lambs being slaughtered, one by one, on the altar of Equestrian military power. She was the weapon of the Empire of the Sun and the Moon, the agent of its righteous decree of holy destruction. Her teeth were the daggers that sheared open their throats and bled them to perform the sacrament.

Drain the life from them, that it might be given to Equestria in exchange.

Blood for Equestria.

A chilled shudder went down her back when she knew that this is what she had dreamed of, and that... In that moment when it was happening, there in that dream... She had enjoyed it. It was confusing and frightening, because it was her, but it was so unlike her. In all those three years she never let herself like the idea or feel any pleasure in the act of ever killing anything, because she knew in every fiber of her being that it was a sad and terrible thing to have to do, never a thing to celebrate. It was only out of necessity, never desire. She never wanted this. But in that dream, in that other body, there was reckless abandon and not a shred of moral inhibition. Kill the griffin. Kill every griffin. Lambs to be butchered, every one of them. It was sublime indulgence, pure and simple and sweet as honey. It felt natural and easy, this pursuit, this destruction with the teeth and claws she somehow possessed. The gates and the barriers of right and wrong were removed, and this... Form... This... Piece of something inside of her made manifest... Ran rampant and unstopped, acting out in perfect honest accordance with its terrifying basal instincts welling up from some hidden corner too dark to see into.

She remembered the fresh taste of blood in her mouth every time she bit down, coppery and salty, warm on her tongue, and she remembered that she loved it, in the cool dark night forest.

In her bathroom under the bright yellow lights, her stomach turned and she wanted to throw up.

Why would she dream this?

"Who are you?" She spoke quietly this time, and her voice cracked, anger replaced with desparate pain.

She looked into the mirror again. No answer. There was still just the same pony face staring back, the one that was always there.

She slumped down on her haunches and stared down at the floor.

"I don't even know anymore, do I?"

She stared down, and almost glanced at her side, but didn't. It wasn't worth it. She knew what was there. She knew what the scars looked like. She didn't need to look at them again to know they were still there and always would be.

Looking was pointless because how they looked wasn't the point.

How they felt would be there whether she looked or not.

Since the way they felt had hit her, more than a week ago now, it hadn't left her mind. Sometimes it hurt and sometimes it didn't but there was always that sense of change in them. She left three years ago and didn't have them. Then she came home and she did. The same pony who'd left had not come back. Nopony else might realize their significance, they may all be fooled, they might all think this is just the same old Rainbow Dash with a new twist, a souvenier from another adventure, and that might even be what she'd thought about herself at first, too, but she would always know better now that she'd been hit by it. After a pony has done these kinds of things... They can't go back. Some things can never be taken back.

She'd barely ever stopped to think about the scars outside. They didn't matter, not for themselves. They were the one piece of evidence of her changes that her skin bore, but they were not the real substance of it. But where was it, where had that pony changed from one thing into another? Where was the point of transformation, where was that line she crossed? That mattered. That was invisible, but that mattered.

She had no idea. It was a slow process, creeping along so invisibly that she couldn't tell. It wasn't the day she'd gotten the scars. That was just another day. Every day was just another day. Little by little, they crept by, one by one, three years worth of them. In every one of them she did what she had to in order to survive and see the next one, and one by one they left their mark, like hammers beating metal, each individual blow almost too small to see any change when she was caught up in existing moment by moment. But the cumulative effect...

Almost nothing, outside. Just those three scars.

What scars were there inside, that she had ignored just as much, that were even harder to see and define?

Teeth.

Claws.

Bloodlust.

They weren't there in the mirror, but she could see them. They weren't there on her body, but she could feel them.

How does a pony become a wolf?

She couldn't tell. There was a saying she'd heard once, a long time ago. Nopony can say what part of the river each individual drop of rain will become, they can only say that it takes every drop together to make it all that it is.

All she wanted was for it to be over... She thought that was what coming home would mean, that it could finally just be over. But there was a truth uncovering itself only now that it had seemed like she could have it at last. It never would. She knew now that she'd let herself become something, because she'd done certain things, and there was no going back, no more than the river could send away every drop back to where it came from and return to being dry land.

No more than she could give back all the lives of the dead. No more than she could put back and make right all the blood she'd spilled.

Her eyes watered and heat flushed her face, making her ears burn. She took one sharp breath, and her chest shook. Tears welled out and spilled down her cheeks, and she exhaled in a shuddering sob. She leaned against the wall, and cried, with her head bowed and her wings drooping at her sides, in bitter tears of frustration and resentment.

It was too late. Rarity was right, this wasn't going away, it couldn't even be covered up. She couldn't even seem to push it out of her sight, even just for a little while, just for a short reprieve. She would always remember. It would always haunt her dreams, color her world, make everything different.

After the last three years, some part of her could never not be that wolf again.

Mourning sobs of pain and regret and loss echoed through the house, emanating into the darkness like the light from the bathroom, for a long time.

Light, bright sunlight, was beginning to shine in around the edges of the blinds over the windows, filling the bedroom with natural illumination announcing it was midmorning.

Rainbow Dash didn't care, other than to vaguely feel a sense of annoyance about it.

She lay in bed, covered in blankets, half awake in a hazy way but with her eyes still shut. She wanted nothing to do with the world outside her little nest of warm blankets and soft cloud pillows. There was no point in getting up, moving around, doing anything. Eventually maybe needing to go to the bathroom would force her up, but not yet. Not for a while.

For now, there was nothing out there.

It was a foreign land, this place she found herself in.

Ponyville...

Ponyville was no place for wolves wearing the shape and the skin of a pony.

No, Ponyville was for real ponies. Ponyville was a home for peaceful, gentle creatures. It was for the ones with good hearts, living quiet lives, where they would be safe and not terrorized under the ravages of wolves and killing machines.

Things like her didn't live in Ponyville. Or they shouldn't, anyway.

That's why she hadn't felt like she was really home yet. That's why there was the feeling of unfamiliarity, of subtle change, of things being physically the same but not the same.

Ponyville hadn't changed, she had. She just didn't understand where that change was until now. She thought coming home would be just picking back up where she'd left off, that it would be simple and life would just... Go back to what it was supposed to be, what she remembered it being, here in this little Equestrian town with all her old friends. Maybe there'd be some readjustment, like there always was when a pony moves around to a different place, but in a little while she'd be back to her old self.

That was a naïve illusion and a foolish hope. That was impossible.

There was no home to come back to.

Home was gone because she - old Rainbow Dash - was gone. She could never go back.

It would never be over.

The thought cut into her, and she supposed it might have made her cry, except that she'd already spent a long chunk of the night doing that. All that was left for now was a burned-out shell. She was tired of crying, exhausted from it. It hurt too much now. Her throat was tight and sore, her nose was stuffed up, and her eyes and her head ached. Her mind and soul felt just as drained, making her numb and apathetic. The thought no longer had the sharp sting that brought tears, anyway, now that it had run through her so many times. It was just an omnipresent saturated dull pain, coloring the whole background of everything but too diffuse to focus on anywhere in particular.

Everything hurt.

No reason to get up. No reason to do anything, walking around being a stranger in a strange place that was the same but not the same. It would only hurt.

She pulled the blankets up tighter, covering her eyes, blacking out whatever light she hadn't already.

At least here in the dark it was warm and soft, and sometimes... When she was able to drift into patches of dreamless sleep... Mercifully thoughtless.

All she wanted was to disappear into the dark and not think ever again.

Thinking hurt too much.

Darkness was the only place there was any relief, so she hid there as long as she could.

Born in Equestria

Born in Equestria

It was a great morning for flying, and on her first morning back from Cloudsdale, Rainbow Dash was in a mood to enjoy it. She was doing a few slow laps around the edges of Ponyville while she watched the activity in the streets below. The sun was shining, it was warm but not hot, the winds were nice and calm...

"Whoa! Lookout!" Rainbow yelled in alarm, ducking out of the way as Ponyville's very own grey and blonde local flight hazard barreled towards her on a collision course.

"Sorry Rainbow Dash!" Derpy Hooves exclaimed, beating her wings against the air to stop her forward momentum and grinding to a halt.

The two pegasi, now hovering in place in the air, turned to face each other.

"Man, Derpy, you've gotta be more careful, you know?" Rainbow Dash scolded her, though more laughingly than seriously. "We don't want somepony getting hurt."

"I know," Derpy smiled sheepishly, and tapped her forehooves together with contrite nervousness. "I'll do better. I'm sorry."

"Nah, forget it. 'S okay. We all make mistakes, right?" Rainbow Dash patted her on the shoulder.

Derpy didn't say anything, but she nodded back appreciately.

"So how've you been, anyway?" Rainbow Dash asked. "No ponies picking on you or anything like that?"

"Nope!" Derpy shook her head and smiled. "Not for a long time."

"Hey, good. Glad to hear it," Rainbow Dash said.

"I'm glad you're back, Rainbow Dash," Derpy said, throwing her forelegs around Rainbow Dash and hugging her without warning, disrupting the pacing of their wingbeats and causing both of them to drop several feet in the air before they could compensate.

"Yeah, I know. You already told me at Pinkie Pie's party a while back," Rainbow Dash said, feeling a little awkward with her forelimbs pinned down by the mare clinging to her, "remember?"

"Well, I meant after this last week, too," Derpy explained. "I was worried. You were gone and nopony knew why."

"Oh! Well, I... Uhh..." Rainbow Dash felt embarrassed. "I was just... Needed to take care of... Stuff. That's all."

"Okay," Derpy released her. "Princess Twilight seemed worried too. She kept asking if anypony had seen you. She needed to find you for something. You should go talk to her. I think she'd be glad to see you."

"Alright, I'll stop by," Rainbow Dash nodded. "Thanks!"

"No problem, Rainbow!" Derpy smiled.

"See ya!" Rainbow Dash waved and the two pegasi turned and flew off in their respective directions. She felt pretty alright. Something about Derpy's face, innocent and friendly, always made Rainbow Dash happy to see.

It was a little bit after lunch when Rainbow Dash landed outside the Ponyville library. She was more confident and more eager to see her friends compared to this time last week, feeling a lot better about things after her change of scenery in the cloud city.

After knocking on the door, she pulled it open and stepped into the library, out of the early afternoon sun and smell of the grass and into the subtle scent of paper and books that filled the old hollow tree.

As expected, a familiar sight was inside, of Twilight Sparkle standing near a book laying open on a reading stand and a small stack of others already on the floor next to it.

"Hey, Rainbow Dash!" Twilight said happily in greeting as she saw who was walking in the door. She left the book momentarily forgotten while she smiled and started trotting up to the pegasus. "There you are."

"Yep! Here I am," Rainbow Dash nodded as she walked further into the library towards her friend. "I heard you wanted to see me about something?"

"Yes. You weren't at home for a few days... Nopony was sure where you went," Twilight said. "Everything alright?"

"That? Oh. I just went out to Cloudsdale for a week," Rainbow Dash said. "Y'know, to visit my family and stuff there. No big deal. Sorry you couldn't find me, guess I shoulda let everypony know. I didn't think I'd be gone that long, though, honestly... I thought it would only be a couple days, and it just kinda turned into a little more than that."

"Oh! I see," Twilight nodded. "So, have fun? How's everypony doing?"

"They're doing alright," Rainbow Dash said. "And yeah, I had a good time. It was nice to see my old home city again."

"I'll bet," Twilight said wistfully. "I haven't been back to Canterlot in..." She shook her head. "I don't even know right now... But anyway, it's not why I needed to find you."

"So what's going on?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Well, Mayor Mare came by the library a couple days ago. She was really the one who wanted to talk to you, I think she just thought I might be the best way to reach you, being your friend," Twilight explained. "She said she wanted to arrange a day of celebration in Ponyville for the war, now that it's finally over. I guess one of the events is supposed to be a parade, and, well... With you being one of our big heroes who fought out there and all... She wanted to find out if you would be interested in being part of that."

Twilight Sparkle paused for a moment. The thought made Rainbow Dash feel funny. Her heart started beating more rapidly in her chest, in an unpleasant way.

"So I told her that sounded like a great idea, and that as soon as I ran into you next I'd pass along her request. So that's what I'm doing," Twilight finished up. "What do you think?"

"I... Uh... Yeah, well, that's kind of... Umm..." Rainbow Dash stumbled uncomfortably.

"Knowing you, I sort of assumed you'd be interested," Twilight said, with a little smile.

Knowing me? Rainbow Dash felt a stirring anger in response to that, glowing hot like an ember inside her chest. You can't say that, you DON'T know me anymore!

"I'm really not sure..." Rainbow Dash felt her pulse pounding in her head, and her ears flattened, "... that I want to be in something like that..."

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because... What I did... They really weren't good things," Rainbow Dash said.

"But you kept Equestria safe," Twilight seemed confused. "That's not good?"

"Yeah? And what did we do to do that?" Rainbow Dash asked.

"Well, what you had to, I suppose," Twilight said. "It's not easy, but that's why you deserve the recognition for it. Right?"

"So you basically think we should be celebrating all that killing," Rainbow Dash said flatly. She grew more uncomfortable and more upset, the heat within her rising little by little.

"What?" Twilight half-closed one eye and looked at Rainbow Dash strangely. "No, it's because we should be glad that the war went well and that we won..."

"Yeah. We won by killing them, all those griffins," Rainbow Dash said. "Not all of them were the ones who deserved it. A lot of them were just trying to protect themselves like any of us would have done."

"Well, I don't like that, sure," Twilight said, "but it could have been a lot worse. Could have been a lot more ponies killed instead. So isn't it still better than what things could have been? We should just be glad that Equestria came out ahead."

Ponies mattered, griffins didn't. Was that it? The bottom line of what Twilight was saying sounded that way. That sentiment, what felt to her like the terrible unthinking callousness of it, blew air on the fire inside Rainbow Dash, making it burn brighter.

It dug into her in a tormenting way that she refused to stand for.

"Why, Twilight?" Rainbow Dash asked. She was speaking quickly and harshly, with her words driven by that heat. "What makes you or me so much better than them? Because we were born in Equestria and they weren't? Did that make them deserve this? Because they're different? Because a few griffins and a few ponies made mistakes and started a war and well, oh, gee, sorry, you guys didn't do anything wrong but you got in the way so now you have to die? Is that it? Is that..."

Yeah, that sounds just about right. Brings back memories. Good times, huh?

Rainbow Dash's voice broke. "Is that all their lives were worth?" She managed to get out, in a hoarse voice. Tears started threatening to run down her face from her watering eyes. She blinked them away, hiding it.

Twilight backed up pensively a half-step, one foreleg partly raised. She looked worried as she tried to speak. "Rainbow... Come on. That's not what this is abou-"

Something about hearing Twilight still trying to justify celebrating what should never be celebrated fanned the glow of that ember, making it reach that point of bursting from low smouldering into wild flaming, and in that sudden wave of heat, something finally broke loose completely.

"That's EXACTLY what this is about!!" Rainbow Dash screamed suddenly. "I lost count of how many griffins I killed! We spent three years slaughtering them and now you want to have some big bucking celebration like it's something to be proud of! What in the FUCK is wrong with you!?"

Twilight's mouth fell open, aghast, and she stared forward in Rainbow Dash's direction in blank wide-eyed shock. There was stunned, motionless silence that filled the room like a tangible presence.

The heat was coursing through her, more and more intensely by the second. It was an inferno, out of control, burning her alive and driving her mad with the overwhelming need to escape from it, to escape from here, this library, this purple alicorn, the source fueling it in her ignorance and her blindness. It was enraging to Rainbow Dash that Twilight wanted to mindlessly cheer for bloodshed and murder and it was so easy for her because she had never had to go out there and do it herself and see it all happen right in front of her.

Rainbow Dash breathed in and out in heavy panting breaths through gritted teeth, staring back at Twilight.

All Rainbow Dash could see was how Twilight wanted to hold the war up like a banner and shove it in everypony's face, and glorify it, like it was some great and noble thing worth going back to - like this was something worth remembering. All Rainbow Dash wanted was to forget, and this... This nobody, this clueless civilian... Wanted to put her atrocities in a spotlight of attention here at home, like a trophy.

Rainbow Dash felt like she would lose her mind completely to her rage. She had to get out of here, because the longer she stayed the more she felt like she would burn away helplessly, to nothing but ash, if she didn't escape.

Goddamn you, it's supposed to be over, and you just wanna drag it all back up and pull me back into it to parade me around?

The thought seared through her head and a furiously resolute determination set itself in her mind in response. No. Not a chance, that would never happen.

Never.

Twilight's mouth was moving again, she was trying to say something. It was indistinct and Rainbow Dash didn't hear it through the pounding in her ears and the enflamed thoughts in her own head. It didn't matter, whatever it was. Twilight didn't have the first clue what she was talking about. She couldn't. Rainbow Dash was glad she couldn't hear, too, the ignorant blathering would undoubtedly only throw more fuel on the fire if it was comprehensible.

It was time to go.

"Yeah, well, you enjoy your parade or whatever," Rainbow Dash said, with a frostbitten chill in her voice in surreal contrast with the heat she felt inside. "Maybe you like cheering about murdering people. I'm not gonna do it," she was already turning to leave the library as she spoke. She walked out the door, slamming it behind herself with a vicious kick, into the afternoon sunlight.

As soon as she was outside she immediately took off, flying as hard as she could. Loose leaves were torn from vegetation and trees and sucked spiraling through the air in her wake. She pushed even her own formidable speed to the limit, working her flight muscles so mercilessly that they surged with screaming pain by the time she reached her cloud house.

All she could really feel was the unbearable agony from the fire of helpless anger burning her hollow, and try as she might, she couldn't outrun that.

Hours later, Rainbow Dash lay on her side on her bed. She wasn't asleep, but she wasn't doing anything, just staring at the wall blankly. The fire was out and cold and she felt dead inside.

The light outside the window was slowly going from the white of daylight to the yellow and orange of sunset, and she was dead inside.

There was just a numb cold nothing.

She couldn't even cry.

It was over. There was nothing left but helplessness. She finally just gave herself to that.

She barely even noticed at first when there was a tapping knock at the door. It was brief, and it was soft, echoing into her bedroom faintly through the house. Then there was silence for a little while. Maybe they'd gone away. That'd probably be best. A long moment passed in silence. Yes. She was alone again, and it was better that way.

Then there were more knocks, a bit harder and more insistent, then more silence, waiting for an answer. Why would anypony be here? She didn't understand. Why did they have to be bothering her? She just hoped that further inaction would cause the problem to disappear, because there wasn't a lot of motivation to move right now. She wasn't sure she was even capable of it, in this state.

Anyway, it was getting late, nearly sunset. Ponies were supposed to be heading home now, not showing up at each other's houses.

It was quiet now. Good, they were gone.

Another round of knocking sounded from the door. They weren't gone.

Maybe she'd have to answer it after all. Somepony seemed pretty determined to get some attention.

Why, though? She'd ruined everything, there was nothing left to do. Laying here was easier, why couldn't they just let her do that?

Go away. Just. Go. Away.

But even as she thought it, she was already moving, sliding off the bed and pushing herself up onto her hooves. The irritation at their persistence was the first real feeling that penetrated through her numbness, and somehow that was enough to ennervate her to be able to act again.

She stood still at the side of her bed for a long moment, up but not moving. More knocking gave her another spur.

"Alright, alright," she sighed, her voice a low sad sounding whisper. She hung her head and dragged her hooves, but finally started for the door.

She walked out of her room, through the house, and reached the door. Her wings drooped, her mane hung in her face. A few more knocks almost made her cringe. Whatever they wanted, they were insistent. She didn't know if she could deal with them, but there didn't seem to be an easier way to avoid it, so she gave in. She opened the door, slowly. Orange-yellow light from the low sun outside spilled in, giving the house some warm illumination. She hadn't realized how dark it had been before then.

That same light gave a shining glow to the features of the pony who stood just outside the doorway. Rainbow Dash wasn't surprised to see that it was Twilight Sparkle. They looked blankly at each other for a fleetingly brief moment.

"I'm sorry," Twilight Sparkle spoke quickly. "Please don't shut the door. I just want to say I'm sorry."

Rainbow Dash didn't move or respond, she just kept standing there. Twilight Sparkle did the same. She seemed stiff and uncomfortable, and her face was sad. Moments passed in silence.

Finally Rainbow Dash moved a little, stepping to the side to clear the doorway. "Come on in," she mumbled towards the floor, nodding just slightly to Twilight.

"Alright," Twilight said quietly in response. "Thanks," she took a few uncertain steps into the cloud house and stood near Rainbow Dash.

She left the door open, and the two of them were bathed in illumination from the rectangle of warm-colored sunlight coming through it from outside.

Twilight took a deep breath. "Obviously, things didn't go so well earlier," she said, "and I think a lot of that was because I didn't understand how you felt. But after I took a while to cool off and think about it, I realized that it must be different for you. I should have been listening. I'm sorry."

Rainbow Dash didn't know what to say. Her mind still felt like it was weighed down. She fought through cobwebs to find something.

"It's okay," she finally managed.

"Can you forgive me?" Twilight asked in a small voice.

What... Forgive her? That seemed wrong to Rainbow Dash. Her brain started moving again at the contradiction. It seemed like the opposite of what was supposed to be happening here. She remembered it being herself, not Twilight, who'd been doing the yelling and screaming. She remembered being the one lashing out in helpless rage and pain.

She remembered being the one who couldn't hold inside what everypony needed her to, and now she knew that she was the one who was wrong for trying to do that when it was all a lie.

"It's not your fault," Rainbow Dash said. "I should have told you before now, and exploding like that wasn't the right way to do it." She shook her head sadly. "I didn't mean to, it just... Happened. I've been so stressed out. All I've wanted to do since I got home is to not think about the war anymore, and the idea of a parade like that... It just felt it was dragging me right back into it, you know? I couldn't. I didn't know how to deal with it."

"I didn't mean for it to make you so upset," Twilight said gently, very softly putting a forehoof on Rainbow Dash's shoulder. "I didn't realize."

"I should have explained it," Rainbow Dash said, "but it's just... It's hard to talk about. I feel like I'm not supposed to talk about some things because I have to be the strong one. But it's not true, Twilight. I'm just a pony, and I'm weak and I'm scared but I can't let that show. I couldn't tell anypony."

"You can tell me," Twilight said softly.

"I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to be some statue of a hero because it's not true, but I don't know what else to do," Rainbow Dash's voice quivered.

She struggled to hold her composure together, but it was going to break apart and she could feel herself unable to stop it. It was embarrassing and she tried to hide it. She couldn't conceal the hitches in her shaky breathing or the water building in her eyes. Finally one teardrop broke over and fell down her cheek. Still, though, she didn't make any noise.

Twilight could tell what was happening. "It's alright," she said simply, and stroked Rainbow Dash's mane, trying to comfort her.

"I don't think I can do this," Rainbow Dash said. She shook her head and cleared her throat. "I need... Some kind of way, to figure something out, because this... This just isn't working. Sometimes I wonder if I should have even come back."

"Why would you think that?" Twilight asked, with some alarm carrying in her voice, though it was still quiet.

"I don't know if life here is working out anymore, like it used to," Rainbow Dash said. "The last three years made me different. I'm trying to get it back, like it was before I left. I just... I can't do it. It's been more than a month and I just keep getting worse. It just keeps getting harder the more I try."

Twilight gently put her foreleg around Rainbow Dash's shoulders and pulled her a bit closer. "Do you want to talk about what's going on?" Concern filled her voice.

"It won't... It's supposed to be over, and it just won't get out of my head. I keep seeing it. I keep thinking about it," Rainbow Dash shook her head. She sniffed down tears and swallowed heavily. "I just wanted to come home and I feel like I can't because I'm different now and that all came home with me where it's not supposed to be. I mean, Ponyville is supposed to be a safe place, but most nights I lay awake and I can't stop myself from thinking about what happened out there. I'm just laying there in bed and I'm all anxious and shaky for no reason. When I can get exhausted enough to finally fall asleep I have nightmares. I wake up as tired as when I went to bed. Everything reminds me. I don't want it to but I can't help it. I can't deal with this anymore." She stared at the floor.

Both of them were quiet for a long moment. The air felt heavy.

"I feel like I lost who I was," Rainbow Dash said. She lifted her head and the two ponies looked each other in the eyes. "Twilight... Every day I was out there I felt like I was dying," Rainbow Dash said in a steady, serious voice, "and in some ways I still am. I'm not sure how much of me is really left."

Twilight Sparkle was left without anything to say. She just held her friend tighter, momentarily, and nuzzled her on the cheek.

"I'm scared, Twilight," Rainbow Dash looked down at the floor again. "What if this never gets any better? What am I supposed to do?"

"It won't be like that. We'll find help for you," Twilight said. "Whatever you need. I promise."

"Where?" Rainbow Dash asked. "'Cause I don't really know where to go."

"I..." Twilight thought for a long moment. "I guess we could start at the hospital," she finally said. "They'll know what to do. I don't think you'd need to be admitted and stay there but it's probably the fastest place to get you in to see a doctor so you can get an outpatient referral to a therapist or somepony who deals with this kind of thing. Then we'll see where it goes from there. Alright?"

There it was. There was the solution it was becoming continually more clear was needed, finally spoken out loud. Somepony finally said it.

It was such a relief to hear.

She wouldn't have been able to say it herself. She hadn't even thought it, not in a conscious way, because she wouldn't let herself. It was like a dark cloud she couldn't control, or even fly near. But now... Now that somepony else said it, it was okay. Now she could do it. That cowardice of needing to be taken by the hoof and led there stung her with shame.

But there was only one thing to do.

"Okay. Yeah," Rainbow Dash nodded. "I guess you're right. That's probably best."

"I'll go with you, if you want," Twilight offered softly. "You shouldn't have to be alone."

"Okay," Rainbow Dash replied quietly with a slight nod.

The two of them were quiet for a little while.

"Do you want to go now?" Twilight asked at last.

Rainbow Dash thought for a second. The sooner they started, the better. "I can't really see there being any better time," she shrugged.

The two of them walked out of the house and onto the cloud Rainbow Dash's home was built on. She shut the door behind them. The sun was almost at the horizon, the colors growing ever warmer, more toward the oranges and reds. In these last few minutes they painted the cloud house and bathed the two ponies in brilliant glowing like an ocean of tinted light.

Rainbow Dash walked to the edge of the cloud, towards that sun, while Twilight followed. They sat down together side by side.

"Celestia's making this a good one," Rainbow Dash commented, with a little bit of a smile.

"She's had a lot of practice," Twilight said, smiling back and nodding. "But even she's not perfect," her smile faded a bit. "And it's okay that she's not."

Rainbow Dash said nothing. She looked out into the sky, and studied a few puffy clouds low in the distance, near the horizon, that shone brightly in rose and orange hues and the way that the sun's final beams emanated through the air around them, contrasting the shadows they cast.

She watched them for a few minutes, while the sun almost imperceptibly crept lower, until it was finally just barely hitting the edge of where sky meets land.

"You know, the ponies around here are always going to think you're a hero," Twilight said. "No matter what. You don't have to hide or pretend anything. Don't be afraid to talk to us."

"If I'm a hero... Then why don't I feel like one?" Rainbow Dash asked slowly, staring off into the sunset. "'Cause all I feel is dirty... And guilty... And angry... Heroes aren't supposed to regret like this. Heroes aren't supposed to think that it'd be easier if they were the ones who'd died instead."

"I guess it doesn't work that way in real life," Twilight said, sadly, staring with Rainbow Dash. "I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash... I'm so sorry."

The two of them embraced and held each other for another minute or so, there in the dying light. Twilight finally broke away, and nuzzled the side of Rainbow Dash's head. "C'mon. You're gonna be alright," she said reassuringly, and the two of them took flight for the town below.

The End

"He would rage and he would cry, my lost soldier. And I said to him, 'There are two of you, don't you see? One that kills and one that loves.' And he said to me, 'I don't know whether I am an animal or a god.' But you are both."

Roxanne Sarrault, "Apocalypse Now"

Author's Note

Afterword:

Working on "Born in Equestria" hasn't been easy for me. It's the third and last of the series of stories it belongs to. It was the hardest of the three to write, but the best one, the one where I succeeded because it finally speaks from the heart of what I needed it to say.

This is personal work. There is a story behind the story.

In my time in the military, I served on a submarine carrying nuclear ballistic missiles.

I don't know how to explain what that's like. For three months at a time, we would wait, hidden in the middle of nowhere, for a call telling us it's time to do our job and cause the end of the world. We carried a number of missiles that I'm not allowed to tell you, each with a number of warheads that I'm also not allowed to tell you. I can tell you that one of those warheads is enough to kill hundreds of thousands of people. All those missiles carry enough to kill millions. All we really have to do is give a target package to a computer and hit a button. The missiles fly themselves to space, snap a photo of the stars, figure out where the warheads are going, and a few minutes later millions of people who never see it coming are turned to ashes by the fire of the sun brought to earth like the wrath of Celestia herself.

They're probably the luckier ones, those who die instantly without realizing it, considering what happens after that.

I've seen the photographs and read the stories of the people who were at Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I wish every day that these were things I'd never had to know.

At a certain point, looking at that monstrosity of the things I would have taken part in, and the unimaginable scope of it, I started to realize that I'm not proud of it, I'm ashamed. The depth of the guilt that produces is like nothing else, and when areas of your life start to feel like they're being ruled by the anger that guilt drives, it's a terrible, helpless feeling. It becomes impossible to reconcile being told, "Hey, good job!" with knowing that that job could be to participate in one of the largest mass murders of innocent people in human history. The terrible realities of what you're taking part in are so pervasive, so looming and oppressing, that the feeling of naivety in people who haven't done it and don't seem to realize how wrong it is seems like a bad joke that makes you resentful and isolated and incredibly alone because it feels like no one else understands.

That lingers with you. You can never go back. I imagine it must be the same for anyone who's had to be in this position. For the infantryman, how can anyone else ever know what it's like to raise a rifle and set the sight on someone and pull the trigger and watch them collapse to the ground if they haven't done it themselves? How can anyone else ever know what it's like to the helicopter gunner to strafe people running around like ants or watch a hellfire missile blow up a car? You begin to hate it. Being different is being alone. Knowing things other people don't brings resentment, when they try to tell you you've done a good thing and you know you haven't because you were there and you watched how terrible it was. You saw how it started loud and ended quiet and what the hell would they ever know about that?

"Born in Equestria" is the story of carrying that inside. In some form, I have felt and experienced everything Rainbow Dash does here. That is why this story exists.

I couldn't tell you how many nights I've spent crying, and how many tears this has taken from me. We're not supposed to talk about these things in our society, because they're 'unmanly', and emotion is weakness, but I no longer care about such things, honestly. I think I've hidden long enough. It's time these things were said.

Having finally finished this, I feel a great sense of relief. It has been a helpful process, putting so many of these things into words and writing that I can look at from somewhere outside myself. I feel more calm and more ready to go forward and clean things out in my life. By putting these things here, it's letting me leave them behind, and that's letting me make progress in accepting and moving on.

For me, having finished writing this story, some part of this is much closer to finally being over. For a long time, I thought there was no choice but for me to suffer with this inside. What writing these last three stories has brought me around to realize is that I don't have to, I do have the choice to get better if I want to. Writing this has been a way to help make that happen. It set me free.

For everyone who read this and commented and supported me along the way, thank you. It means the world to me.

Thank you for everything.

I look forward to moving on to better things and writing what comes next. I hope you do too.

Daddy's Little Girl

Born in Equestria

Daddy's Little Girl

All around Rainbow Dash, there was breathtaking architecture in spotless gleaming white shining in the sunlight under a brilliant blue expanse of endless sky. There was no place more physically beautiful anywhere in the world to her. Cloudsdale was her native city, and all of her earliest memories were here. If there was anyplace left that could be something like coming home, this should have been it. She hoped this would be it... That she would finally find something here.

She stood in the central square of Cirrus Park, the first place she'd wandered to after flying from Ponyville and arriving in the city that morning. It wasn't far from her old neighborhood where her dad's house was. She used to play here when she was a little filly.

The area was nice. It hadn't changed even a little bit since her childhood. Everything was comfortingly familiar and... Safe. Maybe she valued that the most of all right now, just feeling safe. There was still the same fountain in the middle, bubbling with the constant flow of water that spilled into a round cloudstone basin. It was a pleasant, calming sound. Numerous glints of gold reflections shone out through the water, sunlight flashing off the coins that ponies tossed into the fountain for good luck.

Normally, Rainbow Dash wouldn't have thrown anything in herself. She didn't believe in tossing out a perfectly good bit that way, with no reason to think it would accomplish anything. It was unsuperstitious, such a rational stance to take. Twilight would be...

Proud?

Would she? Of what Rainbow Dash was now?

She wondered about that.

She doubted it, actually, all things considered, if Twilight knew the whole truth... If she could see it all. One logically sound decision wouldn't change that kind of big picture.

But Twilight was back in Ponyville, Rainbow Dash reminded herself. What Twilight thought didn't matter here. She pushed the intruding consideration of the purple alicorn out of her head.

Well... If it didn't matter, then... Screw it. What would it hurt? It was a tradition for this fountain, here in her city, and one she'd never indulged in before now. Maybe it was time she did. She had more than enough to spare, anyway.

More than she deserved, she felt, when she thought about it.

After a long moment of pondering, she dug around in her saddlebag and found a one-bit coin.

It seemed so small and insignificant. What was one bit worth to the forces of fate or destiny or... Whatever it was that this was supposed to appeal to the favor of? What could she hope to get for it?

Nothing. Probably nothing.

She shrugged and decided she'd do it anyway. It was a stupid waste, but somehow still among the least insane things in the last three years of her life. As far as what to wish for, she supposed if she was going to throw money away on something ineffectual, she might as well go big. She might as well shoot for the only thing she really wanted anymore.

Why not? Nothing else worked.

She closed her eyes and wished, as hard as she could, that the last three years could somehow be gone. She wished that she would open her eyes back up again and it would be a new day, in a new time, one where she'd never left Equestria for the brutal Northern War. For a brief moment, she could suddenly see herself in her mind, as the pony she should be... There would be no scars, the memories would be erased. She'd be able to sleep at night again. God, she wanted it. Just... Just one night of all this being completely out of her thoughts. She clung with all she had to that vision for the moment it lasted. She willed it to be with every fiber, straining her thoughts, squeezing her eyelids tightly, clenching her jaw.

Just let it be over.

Please, somehow, some way, just let it finally be over.

That silent plea rang through her mind, loud enough to drown out any other thought.

She threw the coin into the fountain, and heard the splash.

Her eyes opened and nothing was any different.

Of course it wasn't. How could it have been? Throwing a single one-bit coin into the water does what, exactly?

Right. Nothing.

Maybe it just wasn't enough. Maybe it took more than a single token offering. If it would have made things different, she would have thrown in all the coins it took - all the coins she had. She'd have tossed away every bit they ever paid her to fight, if giving it all back would mean getting back what she used to be before this.

She wished she'd never taken their blood money.

That's all it was to her now, just so much blood money.

The statue towering over the middle of the fountain that had stared down on her silently all the times she'd played here when she was young still stared at her now. In those innocent days she took it for granted and never paid attention to the rearing armored pegasus with flared wings, a pale cloudstone collosus carved in heroic proportions, several times larger than a real pony. Now her gaze gravitated toward it. This was a famous statue, everypony who lived here knew the imposing figure on sight. Commander Hurricane. One of Cloudsdale's greatest heroes, one of the warriors of the old Cloud Empire.

What about her? Did she ever feel like this?

Rainbow Dash wondered about it, while she stared back up at the empty eyes.

Obviously, yes, she was a flesh and blood pony at one point, she must have felt something like this at least once in her time. Rainbow Dash knew there way no conceivable way around it, for a pony who'd been there and seen the things she had with her own two eyes. Somepony like Commander Hurricane just never would have admitted it. Too many ponies with their consciences, whether they knew it or not, resting on her back. Too much at stake not to carry that weight with grace and pretend there was nothing to it, no pain and no doubt over the rightness of what was being done on distant battlefields for her city and her people.

Anypony not part of that would never really know the struggle, because the ones who were would never betray the facade, the image, that protects ponies who didn't have to see everything ugly behind it for themselves. For centuries, pegasi like Commander Hurricane had stood in statues like this, reassuring everypony with their proud bearing.

The sinking awareness that now it was her turn felt heavy in Rainbow Dash's gut. Now she was one of them, part of this long, long line of Cloudsdale pegasus warriors that carried that responsibility of maintaining the noble image for the rest of her people, because that is how they see it, isn't it? They see the parts they want to see. They hear the parts they want to hear.

They don't see the rest.

They don't see most of what's real out there in the blood and the dirt.

All they see is this statue, all they see is the stoic pose. Action, confidence, gallantry, and honor. Glory for Cloudsdale, glory for Equestria. Good old Commander Hurricane eminated those things in her cloudstone visage, showing them the things that everypony admires. For their own good, for the sake of their own comfort and their own souls, that was all that most ponies saw when they went for a nice walk through this park.

The sun gleamed off the perfect polish covering every square inch of this perfect military mare in her perfect armor.

Underneath that surface image, the pale cloudstone composing the statue reminded Rainbow Dash of the coat of a different pegasus, one they would never see. Alabaster, both her color and her name. And suddenly Rainbow Dash resented all of them, all the civilians, because they would never see that pale-coated pegasus who would never come home again, and they would never know for themselves the truth about all of this that Alabaster could have told them if only they could see her, even just a glance, just once... If they could have just heard her story...

They didn't see her friend. They didn't see it when she -

They didn't have to see her kill herse -

Rainbow Dash wouldn't even let herself finish the thought. The pain it still brought on was too sharp. The penetrating intensity of the sting brought involuntary watering to her eyes, like getting a splash of lemon juice in a fresh cut.

She shoved it back down, and wanted to think about anything else but that.

Anything else.

The heat of anger started rising in her chest and burned in her eyes. They watered and stung like the air was smoky, and she tried to blink it away.

What was it all for, anyway? Why was the friend they would never see gone forever?

All just blood money.

Buck this.

Buck all of this.

She turned from the fountain and walked away, out of the park, hating that statue and the veneer it presented, the part everypony would see, more bitterly than anything she could ever remember hating before.

An hour later, Rainbow Dash was knocking on the front door to a cloud house. It was a door thoroughly entrenched in her memory, one that in the past she'd have just opened up and walked in through instead of knocking on, and often after walking in she'd shout out a brief greeting to announce her truimphant return from wherever she'd been. Momentarily, she considered doing just that, for old time's sake.

She was pretty confident that the pony who lived here wouldn't mind. Actually, it would probably make his day to hear it again. Still, though, there were rules ponies were expected to follow once they were grown up and lived in separate places of their own, so she waited.

After a few seconds the door came ajar and swung open. A pegasus, looking somewhat like a male version of herself, with the same rainbow color mane and tail but a slightly different shade of blue in his coat, stared at her for a brief fraction of a second, while she stared back.

"Rainbow!" He exclaimed, smiling, and threw his front legs around her in greeting, pulling her into a hug that she gladly returned.

"Hey dad," Rainbow Dash said, from in his embrace. "How's it going?"

"It's great! C'mon in, c'mon in!" She found herself being pulled enthusiastically through the doorway, and before she knew it she was standing in the living room of the cloud house she grew up in.

"I didn't know you were gonna be in Cloudsdale," he said happily.

"Eh... Well... Neither did I, 'till I got here," Rainbow Dash said, though as she did she realized it sounded sort of strange. "It was a spur-of-the-moment trip," she explained, "just wanted to see the place again for some reason. I dunno. I just... Flew out here. Didn't really think too much about it."

"Oh. Still taking time off, huh?" her dad said. "Well, that's good. You deserve some to yourself to relax and take it easy."

She wanted to laugh. "Yeah, that's kinda what I wanna do right now," she nodded instead. "I could really... Uhh... I could really use it..."

"I'll bet," her dad nodded back. "You were gone a long time. Didn't sound too fun, from your letters."

"It wasn't," she shook her head. She didn't know what else to say. There was an awkward pause.

"Well, hey. That's all done. You made it. You're home now," her dad finally said. "It's good to see you, Rainbow. I missed you," he hugged her again.

"I missed you, too," she responded, returning his hug.

"You're welcome to stay here with me if you're gonna be in the city overnight," he said. "You always are, you know that."

"Yeah. I know," she nodded. "I probably will. I actually don't know how long I'll be here yet. I was kinda... Thinking... A few days, maybe? Something like that."

"Your old room is still there for you." he said. "Obviously, still mostly empty, since you moved all your stuff out to that house of yours over Ponyville. But there's some blankets in the linen closet and it should be easy to drag in some cloud chunks to use as a bed whenever you feel like it."

"Okay. Sounds good," she agreed.

"So... Did you just get into the city a little while ago?" he asked.

"Yep," she nodded.

"Have you stopped to visit anypony else yet?" he asked.

"Nope. Haven't really done much..." she shook her head. She hesitated and the house was silent. "Well, actually, I stopped at Cirrus Park," she finally said.

"Huh. I haven't been there for a while myself," he replied.

"Not much to see," she shrugged. "It's the same as it's been as long as I can remember."

"Heh. Yeah. It's been the way it is since before I was born," her father said. "I don't think they'll ever change it."

"The fountain's still there," she continued. "The one with the statue."

"Heheh. Yeah. When you first figured out how to fly you thought it was the coolest thing ever to buzz your way up onto Commander Hurricane's back and pose like you were riding her into battle," he said. "You were really proud of being able to get up there all by yourself."

"I guess I was," Rainbow Dash said flatly. "Back then."

There was a break in the conversation. Rainbow Dash looked around the house. She knew everything in it, all the furnature, all the pictures, the decorations. All of it was the same as it had been for years. Even the pattern of pooling sunlight coming in through the three large windows of the livingroom, leaving a row of almost blindingly bright rectangles on the floor that would slowly march across the room as the sun moved through the sky was a feature from her childhood. She hated it in summer when it helped make the whole house too hot. She loved it in the winter when it was cold and she could lay in the light to soak in pleasant warmth.

This was the closest to being home she'd felt in a very long time.

"I guess you're even more like Commander Hurricane now," her dad commented. "Now that you've... Been out there. Right?"

She sighed. What was she supposed to say? She didn't really know. She didn't really want to say anything. She didn't want to think about anything, at least not anything about that. She just wanted to enjoy being here, in this familiar house with this familiar pony.

No. Not here. Not here, of all places...

It smashed her like a hammer inside, crushing and bruising some of the deepest and most cherished pieces of this sense of comfort, to realize that even he saw the statue now. This stallion who raised her, been there every day of her childhood through every good and bad thing that happened, knew her through and through and that she loved and felt closer to than anypony else ever in the world... Even he saw her this way, after she'd gone out there to fight and come home and now she was just... A statue.

She hated that, but what could she do about it?

Being that was her responsibility, wasn't it? To be that chivalrous image to protect everypony else, so they wouldn't have to see those ugly truths? Protecting the ponies she loved was why she'd done this. Yes, she was their shield, and to lower it would mean undoing that defense. She did it to protect them, and part of that meant protecting them from what she'd done.

That job would never be over.

Still not saying anything, she tried to stand tall, locking her legs rigid. In slow movements she hoped seemed organic, suddenly self-conscious of her posture, she tried to keep her chin up and hold her head with a pride subtle enough to be there without looking forced and intentional. She was supposed to be proud, she was supposed to be filled with the conviction of having done the right thing, driven onward tirelessly by honor in the greatness of her responsibility. She wasn't supposed to betray any doubt.

She wasn't supposed to tell any ugly truths.

The thought of carrying that weight forever was too heavy. Being made of stone weighed far too much. She could feel it in her back, pressing down, straining the muscles in her legs.

Part of her was screaming to cast that weight off. Break out of it. Shake it loose, let it all break apart and drop to the floor, let everything inside come out.

She didn't want this barrier of stone encasing her, walling her off from everypony, even the ones she was supposed to be closest to.

Maybe, though...

Maybe it would be okay if she let go of that, just for a little, just this time.

He would understand.

Of course he would. Suddenly, more clearly than anything else, she knew he would understand. Whatever she told him, whatever she showed him, he would still be...

Wouldn't he still be her dad?

With that thought, almost imperceptibly at first the stone started to crack. She slumped her back a little, buckled her legs into a more relaxed stance, and loosened her stiff neck and let her wings not clamp down so tightly on her sides in such a perfect fold.

She started to feel weak, and her instinct, as it always had been all her life, was to fight it. But the stone kept cracking, chipping away and beginning to slip and fall, and in spite of herself she found herself struggling to hold it all up. The effort was half-hearted, she realized, more a reflex than a serious attempt. It was really just there for the show.

The pride, the glory, the honor, all that nonsense it was supposed to mean, didn't matter to her. All those things were as hollow as an old washed-up shell at the beach. Underneath it, desperately, more desperately than anything else, she just wanted her dad.

Everything was coming down, and it was a relief, the biggest relief in the world, to finally feel it happening. Her legs trembled, then buckled a little, and she let them. She sat down on the floor on her haunches. A sense of tightness left her chest, while she slowly took a deep breath and then let it out again. She could breathe again. Her neck relaxed and she hung her head.

Finally, she gave herself over and surrendered to a feeling of calm, easy comfort in letting all that weight slide off and just fall away. The stone facade lay in ruins around her, abandoned and shattered, and that felt...

... Good.

It finally felt like something completely honest.

The feeling of being home finally swallowed her up, and it was the best feeling in three years.

She wanted to laugh with joy, and she almost did, but something else came up through that, overpoweringly, needing to be let out while there was a chance. Her eyes watered. She took another deep breath, and realized she was shaking.

"Are you alright?" Her father asked. She could hear his concern.

"No, dad. I'm not," she responded in a trembling voice.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, moving closer to her.

"I'm not a hero," she said. "I'm just... I don't know. I don't know what I am."

"Why? Did... Did something happen?" he asked.

She tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing but a tangle of memories, a million different things that all had a part of it but none of them were the one answer that could say it all.

"Too many things," she finally managed to croak out. She crumbled and choked into sobs. "Too many things. And I don't... Know... Who I am. I did things and now I just don't know."

She sobbed wordlessly for a little while before she could say anything more. "I got trained and made into this fighting machine and went north and killed a bunch of griffins and a lot of them didn't really deserve it. And I saw ponies die. The best friend I had up there died. We fought together a million times and then she just couldn't take it anymore and she broke apart and she died. And there were a lot of times I thought I would, too. There was blood everywhere, every day. All the time. So much... So much blood. I don't know what it was all for. I don't know what it made me into. I'm scared of it. I don't wanna be this... Thing. I hate this. I hate what I have to be now." Words spilled out of her rapidly once she was able to get them started.

"I'm sorry, dad," she said through her crying. "I'm supposed to be this... Hero, or something... And I'm just a monster. I'm just... I don't know. I'm sorry."

Her father sat for a minute without saying anything.

"No... I know who you are... And I don't hate what I see," he looked Rainbow Dash in the eyes. "You're my little filly."

Rainbow Dash didn't say anything. She just looked back at him.

"That's how it is, being a parent," he continued. "I guess you'll understand if you ever have foals. Your kid can get big and grow up and move out to somewhere else and go away to war and come back some kinda tough soldier who's done all kinds of fighting and Celestia knows what else out there, but somehow nothing can really change it... You'll always be my little girl." He reached out and scooped her in close to himself. She leaned her head against his shoulder and felt his forelegs wrapping around, embracing her. He was warm and safe and comforting, the most comforting thing in the world, just the way she remembered from so many years ago, when he used to hug her and hold her when she was much smaller.

Things weren't really much different now, were they?

No, they weren't. He'd said so, and that was exactly the one thing she'd been hoping most in all the world to hear. She was still his little filly. His foal, the one he protected, the one he raised, the one he loved and the one who loved him back, with a bond stronger than anything.

That was all she wanted to be.

"I love you, dad," she said through her tears, clinging to him.

"I love you too, kiddo," he said back.

For a while, she just wanted to be here at home.