Oh Mother, Where Art Thou?

by Locomotion

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad, Original Character, Soarin, Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo, Spitfire, Tragedy
Length: 20281

In all the time Rainbow Dash had known Scootaloo, the orange filly has never once mentioned her parents. What is she trying to hide from her?

Scootaloo has become unusually distant of late, and Rainbow Dash is worried about her - not least because she never seems comfortable about the subject of her parents. But why doesn't she want to talk about them, even with her "honorary" big sister? Why does the mere mention of her parents bring tears to her eyes?

Back at the Wonderbolt Academy, Rainbow Dash confides her concerns to Soarin, and learns a terrible secret, not just about Scootaloo, but also Spitfire. The latter's sister, who was also Scootaloo's mother, had tragically lost her life some years ago, leaving Scootaloo to look after herself while her father slaves away from dawn till dusk. The two ponies head down to Ponyville to try and reason with him, but things get out of hoof, leading to an angry, lonesome Scootaloo running away from home. As the three adults try to find her along with the Cutie Mark Crusaders, they gradually learn that there is more to the situation surrounding Scootaloo and her father than meets the eye...

Published 2014-01-01 19:00:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-01 19:00:03 UTC

Chapter 1: The Tragic Tale of Typhoon

The Wonderbolt Academy was due to give its cadets their final test in the form of an air show at Cloudsdale, and had given them a week's leave to prepare for their final training before the event. Rainbow Dash, their top cadet, had taken this opportunity to go on a camping trip in the Whitetail Woods with Scootaloo, the likes of which she hadn't had the chance to do since she had enrolled in the Academy almost two years ago. By now, Scootaloo's flying skills had improved a fair amount since she had first met her new coltfriend Rumble last year, and although she wasn't even half as speedy or agile as her idol as yet, Rainbow Dash was most impressed by how far she had come. In the past, the little Pegasus filly had rarely been able to stay in the air for more than a few seconds at a time; now she was just about able to take off vertically, stay in flight for about half an hour, and even maintain a reasonable altitude.

Throughout their camping trip, the two Pegasi practised their flying as much as they could; Rainbow Dash to perfect the stunt routine she was to perform for their test while Scootaloo was trying to improve on her own flying skills further. It was tiring work even without their saddlebags weighing them down, but they didn't mind; all that mattered to them was getting that little bit closer to living their dreams. Whenever they stopped to make up camp, they would talk long into the night about the goings-on in each other's lives and in Ponyville and Cloudsdale in general. Scootaloo was amazed – and a little concerned – when Rainbow Dash revealed that Soarin had proposed to her a few days earlier, but the rainbow-maned Pegasus mare assured her that she would still try and find time for them to hang out together.

Dusk was steadily rolling in as the two Pegasi arrived back in Ponyville. They had enjoyed their camping trip together, but Rainbow Dash couldn't help noticing that Scootaloo seemed a little quiet. Something must be wrong in the orange filly's world, she thought, for her enthusiasm hardly ever seemed to diminish whenever they were hanging out with each other; indeed the only other time she could recall Scootaloo behaving so differently was when she and Rumble had first met. But then again, she was probably just tired after their long week away – or was she?

“You okay, Scoot?” she asked casually, pretending not to worry.

Scootaloo nodded wearily in reply. “Yeah, fine,” she murmured. “Just got a lot on my mind, that's all.”

Rainbow Dash paused. Judging by Scootaloo's tone of voice, it seemed as though “fine” was the wrong way to describe her by all accounts. “Is there something bothering you?”

“Um...nothing,” answered Scootaloo uneasily.

“It's not that Diamond Tiara twerp making fun of you again, is it?”

“No, of course not!”

“Well that makes a change,” mused Rainbow Dash. “Is it because my camp-fire story scared you last night then?”

Scootaloo cringed as she remembered the nightmares she had experienced regarding the Olden Pony and the Headless Horse. These had been far too much for her to bear, but revealing her fears to Rainbow Dash had been even harder, and to this day she was still mildly embarrassed whenever her idol brought up the subject. “N-n-not this time,” she stuttered sheepishly. “It's just...well......” but she quickly tailed off.

Rainbow Dash rested a gentle hoof on Scootaloo's shoulder. “Come on, Scootaloo,” she coaxed softly, “you know you can tell me anything.”

But Scootaloo didn't reply. She simply directed her gaze towards the stars that had begun to twinkle in the night sky, deep in thought. Never for one second did she doubt what Rainbow Dash had said, but this particular issue she was going through felt far too sensitive and distressing even for her own big sister figure to know about it.

As she looked up at the sky, she noticed a small group of stars in the shape of what looked like the face of a mare – one that she somehow seemed to recognise. In her eyes, the mare framed by the stars was lemon-yellow in colour with a wavy, purple, medium-length mane, and was gazing down upon her with a sad, distant look. Scootaloo blinked away a small tear as she mirrored the mare's expression...

“...Equestria to Scootaloo? Do you read me?”

“What?” Scootaloo quickly snapped out of her trance and returned her attention to Rainbow Dash.

“Are you sure you're okay?” asked Rainbow Dash, visibly worried. “You don't exactly seem with it.”

The orange filly scuffed the ground with one hoof. “Yeah, I guess I am a little distracted,” she admitted. “I'll be okay though – really I will.”

Rainbow Dash didn't seem too convinced though. “Well, if you're sure,” she replied uncertainly. “Anyway, I'd better be heading back to the Academy. See you round, Scootaloo – and say hi to your parents for me.”

“Will do,” conceded Scootaloo with a weak smile, and with that, she turned and headed back towards home. But Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, remained firmly rooted in place for some time after her young fan-filly had left the square, trying to work out why she had been so reluctant to talk about whatever was on her mind. The more she thought about it, though, the more ashamed she became of what she had just said; in all the time they had known each other, Scootaloo had never once mentioned her parents, so whatever troubles she was going through must have had something to do with them. But why – why would two ponies who should have cared a great deal about their own daughter be such an emotional burden on her instead? Was it merely because they hadn't paid her enough attention, or did it run a lot deeper than that?

In any event, it would certainly explain why Scootaloo had been so inept at flying before Rainbow Dash took her under her wing; most Pegasus foals would have attended some form of flight school at around Scootaloo's age, and yet the orange filly herself hadn't. This raised a great many more questions though; why hadn't her parents given her such an opportunity? Why were they letting her fall so far behind other Pegasi when she could have been one of the best flyers in her class? Why were they......neglecting her?

Neglect – the mere thought of the word shook Rainbow Dash to the core. No self-respecting parent should ever neglect their young, no matter how they felt for them. Her own father, for instance, had usually been extremely busy at the Cloudsdale Weather Factory, but he still managed to spend time with his little filly even if he was worn out by the end of his shift. Even Firefly, her mother, had given up her own dreams of being a Wonderbolt just so she could give Rainbow Dash a good enough start in life to pursue what she herself would never have the chance to do – but the way Scootaloo had been behaving, her parents didn't even seem to notice her. The rainbow-maned mare grimaced at the thought of her number-one fan sat in a corner, trying in vain to hold back tears while two older Pegasi went about their business, oblivious to the distraught filly they should have been taking care of...

Rainbow Dash returned to the Wonderbolt Academy rather late that night. She had been trying to clear her head by performing a few stunts in the air, but no matter how fast she flew, the same discomforting thoughts of Scootaloo and her parents still managed to catch up to her. Even by the time Celestia's sun peeked over the horizon and signalled a new day, the same worries that had been keeping the rainbow-maned mare awake half the night continued to plague her thoughts, and she barely seemed able to concentrate on her flight training that morning.

With their exercise completed, the cadets all stood in line as Soarin walked past them with a clipboard in one hoof, advising them on where they needed to improve. Rainbow Dash, however, barely seemed to be listening, and even when the muscular albino pony next to her gave out a gruff but enthusiastic bellow of “YEAH!” upon hearing how well he was doing, she didn't even bat an eyelid.

“...and as for Rainbow Dash, your course correction on the final hoop was a little bit off, but otherwise you did brilliantly. Keep up the good work.”

That was enough to snap Rainbow Dash out of her reverie, while at the same time adding to her concern. Was she really starting to lose her touch, she wondered?

“Remember,” finished Soarin, “we can only accept the best of the best. We only have three weeks before the air show, so I want to see you training your hardest. Dismissed!”

The cadets all saluted smartly before making their way over to the mess hall. Just as Rainbow Dash was about to follow suit, Soarin turned back in her direction; “Oh and Rainbow Dash,” he added quietly, “could I have a word with you in private?”

“Um...sure,” conceded Rainbow Dash, but she couldn't help feeling a little nervous as she followed Soarin into his office, and quietly wondered to herself whether her performance had been sloppier than he was letting on. What really worried her was the possibility of her being downgraded to wing-pony again, for whatever the two Pegasi may have felt towards each other, Soarin still had to ensure that his cadets were up to scratch.

Once they had entered, Soarin went and sat behind his desk, motioning for Rainbow Dash to take a seat as well. As she pulled up a chair in front of the desk, the sky-blue mare noticed a look of concern in the pale blue stallion's eyes which seemed to calm and concern her both at the same time. Still unsure of what he wanted to talk to her about, she waited patiently for him to speak first.

“About your performance this morning, Rainbow Dash...” he began after a long, awkward pause.

Rainbow Dash's eyes widened. “I didn't blow it, did I?”

“No, it's not that,” Soarin reassured her. “You were still way ahead of all the other cadets – it's just that......well, you seemed a bit off at breakfast, and your performance this morning was fairly modest by most ponies' standards. I had a pretty strong hunch something was bothering you, so I brought you here to avoid any embarrassing questions from anypony else.”

“Can't hide anything from you, can I, Soarin?” quipped Rainbow Dash, allowing herself a small smile. She then stared morosely down at the floor as her mind went back to Scootaloo and her parents; annoyed though she was at herself for letting those thoughts mess up her performance that morning, that annoyance paled in comparison with her worry for the little Pegasus filly.

Soarin leaned forward over the desk and rested a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Talk to me, Dashie,” he said softly. “What's bothering you?”

At last, Rainbow Dash managed to find her voice again. “Well, Soarin, I didn't wanna drag you into this – or any of the Wonderbolts for that matter – but I've been rather worried about a certain fan-filly of mine,” she explained.

“Meaning Scootaloo, perchance?” asked Soarin gently.

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Well, lately she's been pretty distant for some reason, but won't tell me why,” she continued morosely. “I'm kinda worried it may have something to do with her parents though – in all the time we've known each other, she's never told me who they are or why they never set aside any time even to teach her how to fly.”

This revelation was met with a look of dismay from Soarin. “That can't be right,” he exclaimed.

“Well of course it's not right!” agreed Rainbow Dash feelingly. “Mine had always taken good care of me, but the way Scootaloo's behaving, you'd think hers never even looked at her! It's...it's 'Scoot-abuse' is what it is!”

Soarin gave a deep sigh as he turned and gazed out of the nearby window towards Ponyville, deep in thought. Finally, he returned his attention back to his fiancée; “Actually, Rainbow Dash, there's something you ought to know about Captain Spitfire,” he replied gravely. “I didn't really want to reveal it to anypony else for fear of hurting her feelings, but it's only fair, considering Scootaloo's supposed issues with her family. You see, she wasn't the only one in her family to join the Wonderbolts.”

“Wasn't she? So who else was there?”

“Her grandfather on her mother's side was one of the original Wonderbolts when the team was formed over sixty years ago,” remembered Soarin, “and although neither of her parents ever got the chance, she herself did along with her sister, a lovely young mare by the name of Typhoon. They enrolled in the Wonderbolt Academy at the age of twenty-one...well, nineteen in Typhoon's case, but anyway, they passed the entrance exam with flying colours and soon ranked among the best in the team. In fact, I had Typhoon as my trainer when I first enlisted in the Wonderbolts myself.”

Rainbow Dash was intrigued. “I tell you what, Soarin, I'd sure like to get a chance to meet this Typhoon pony.”

“I'm afraid you never will, Dashie. You see, after about eight years in the Wonderbolts, by which time she was due for a promotion, Typhoon discovered she was pregnant, and reluctantly quit the Wonderbolts just a few months later. She gave birth to a healthy little Pegasus filly a few weeks after the Summer Sun Celebration, a filly who now looks up to you as an idol, a hero and a sister.”

Rainbow Dash stared for a moment – and then simply nodded.

“Typhoon and Spitfire stayed in touch with each other as much as they could after the former resigned,” continued Soarin. “Such was our respect for the two that Spitfire agreed to keep us up to date with what was going on in her sister's life. Within about five years of her resignation, Typhoon was holding a few air shows of her own, many of them as a tribute to her fellow Wonderbolts – but that, and her flying days as a whole, were to come to a premature end just seven months later.”

“What happened?”

“One day, while practising a new routine, Typhoon encountered some pretty strong winds at a mountain near Ponyville and was blown off course. Before she could reorient herself, the wind slammed her hard into a cliff and sent her plummeting out of the sky. They found her body at the foot of the mountain two days later.”

The rainbow-maned mare recoiled in horror. “What then? Did they manage to save her?”

“I'm afraid not; she was pronounced dead at the scene,” answered Soarin mournfully. “Spitfire was devastated when she heard the news, and it took about a year for her to come to terms with the loss of her sister; but as if that wasn't enough, she never once wrote to the family that had been left behind by this tragedy.”

“So......you mean to tell me Scootaloo's living on her own – as an orphan?!” gasped Rainbow Dash, the shock apparent in her voice. “That's awful!”

“Actually, no, she isn't,” Soarin reassured her. “She's currently under the care of her father. He works at a slate quarry about fifteen miles out of Ponyville, according to Spitfire.”

Having pulled herself together, Rainbow Dash raised a hoof to her chin. “Yeah, I think I know what you're talking about,” she agreed. “Pinkie Pie used to live on one herself – not something she enjoyed, though.”

Chapter 2: Slate Shard's Lament

A huge bang erupted from the side of the mountain, and a deluge of slate tumbled down the cliffs to land on the quarry floor. A few yards away stood a group of rugged-looking ponies, all waiting for the all-clear before making their way over to the face of the cliff; most of them were very scruffy and very dirty, and plenty were riddled with scars from previous mishaps within the quarry. But one pony in particular, a dull orange stallion with a fiery red mane and tail, a tattered grey neckerchief and cloth cap and a Cutie Mark consisting of two crossed pickaxes against a pile of rocks, seemed oblivious to what was going on around him – he simply stared into the heavens, a longingly distant expression in his eyes.

“Okay, everypony, it's safe to proceed!”

The other ponies immediately headed back to the quarry face, but the stallion remained where he was. He was too distracted even to notice the foreman coming his way.

“Come on, Slate Shard, we haven't got all day!” barked the foreman sharply. “How can we load those trucks if you just sit here looking sorry for yourself?!”

“Oh – uh...sorry, sir,” apologised the stallion in a weary, gravelly but nevertheless soft voice, and quickly trotted towards the quarry face, a long train of empty slab wagons trailing behind.

The foreman glared at him. “Honestly – the ponies I have to work with these days!” he growled.

Slate Shard merely hung his head as he pulled the empty trucks into a siding for the other quarry-ponies to load up. It was his job to haul the trucks between the quarry and the cutting sheds, where the slate they obtained would be processed into bricks, tiles and other building materials before being taken along a narrow-gauge railway to Ponyville to be shipped to all corners of Equestria by the big railways. But pulling long rakes of slate trucks can be horribly taxing even for the strongest of ponies, and Slate Shard constantly felt the strain wherever he went. There was never a time when he could leave work without feeling badly worn out by the end of the day, when he could go home and spend time with what little family he had left without exhausting himself even further.

That was what made him all the more depressed, for while he sorely needed the money to keep them going, he felt as though all he was getting out of the job was frequent segregation from his own kin – segregation that he never wanted in the first place. All he wanted right now, just like any other day, was some time to bond with the one daughter he had been left with after the loss of his better half. If only he could quit his job and take up an easier, better paid and less stressful one, it would be so much easier on himself and his daughter; but his poor background meant that he didn't have the right qualifications.

As he unhitched himself from the trucks and sat down to take a rest, one of the other quarry-ponies came up next to him with a huge off-cut of slate in tow. “Trucks gettin' a bit much for ya, Shard?”

“No kidding, Ignatius,” replied Slate Shard unhappily. “I wouldn't wish this kinda burden on nopony.”

“I know what ya mean,” drawled Ignatius. “It's bad enough that we 'ave to drag that slate over to them trucks, but draggin' several chunks of slate in one go...ya might as well 'ave been asked to pull the whole mountain from 'ere to Ponyville.”

Slate Shard heaved a deep sigh. “It sure feels like I am.”

“You'd 'ave thought they'd at least get another pony to help ya, maybe even bring up an engine to do the shuntin' instead.”

“Tell that to the foreman!” grumbled Slate Shard. “He never seems to give a darn for anypony or anything other than cutting costs – we're nothing but cheap labour to him. If it had been any different, I'd have been given a pay-rise by now.”

Ignatius frowned as he set about loading the slate onto the truck. “You an' me both,” he griped bitterly. “Them quarry owners are all the same – all greed an' no care. It's a wonder they even bother payin' us in the first place!”

“And all for nothing but blood, sweat and tears – especially in my case,” lamented Slate Shard, staring into space once again. A few small tears formed in the corner of his eyes as he watched the clouds drift aimlessly through the sky, his mind beginning to drift with them in his sorrow. “If only it could be all sunshine and rainbows and father-daughter time, at least for one day.”

“You'll get your chance one day,” Ignatius reassured him. “Besides, I'm sure that little filly of yours is managing okay.”

Slate Shard stared at his hooves. “I blooming well hope so.”

Back in Ponyville, in a small house near the edge of the town, a certain orange Pegasus filly was slowly, groggily rising from her slumber. Having let her eyes adjust to the morning sunlight, she turned to look at the clock on her bedside table, but sighed heavily in disappointment when she saw that it was almost midday.

“Oh, great – I've slept in again, haven't I?”

Perhaps it was lucky for Scootaloo that she didn't have school that day, but that did very little to reassure her as she dragged her weary bones out of bed and made her way into the kitchen, hoping that breakfast had already been prepared. It came as an even bigger disappointment, but by no means a surprise, when she found that there wasn't so much as one little crumb left out for her. She couldn't even see a note telling her where to find any food.

“Trust that idiot who calls himself my dad to let me starve!” she muttered crossly. “Guess it's gonna have to be the usual for me in that case,” and she made her way out into the backyard, griping under her breath.

The backyard used to be a well-kept garden, but in more recent times it had become terribly unkempt and overgrown, a far cry indeed from the small, tidy patches of tulips, roses and other flowers that used to adorn the place. Weeds and grass had long since eliminated these patches, making it look almost as wild as the Everfree Forest; nevertheless, there was more than enough grass to feed an army, which was just as well, Scootaloo considered, as it usually turned out to be the only breakfast food she could find. Her only complaint was that fresh grass usually tasted rather bland, and she often wished she could find a few flowers to go with it.

As the disheartened filly sat and grazed over in the far corner of the backyard, she happened to catch a glance of Derpy Doo spending some quality time with her daughter Dinky. They certainly seemed to be enjoying each other's company, she thought, but then that was hardly surprising; behind that characteristic wall-eyed expression, Derpy was a bright mare and a competent mother, and she and Dinky cared for each other a great deal. Scootaloo watched them frolicking in the streets with a soft smile, a few small tears welling up in her eyes as she remembered the good times she had shared with her own mother before that tragic accident parted them forever. Her death had been such a crushing blow to the orange filly that she had been inconsolable for many months afterwards; her mother had loved her very much, and Scootaloo sorely missed being in her warm, comforting embrace, particularly whenever she had been hurt, bullied or plagued by nightmares.

Her father, meanwhile, seemed to have changed for the worse after her mother's death. He had been fairly genial by nature, and despite having worked himself rather hard at the quarry most days, he would at least try to spend time with his family – but after her mother had gone, he became rather distant and distracted, and he no longer seemed to have the strength to do anything by the time he returned home, let alone spend any time with his daughter. Indeed there were times when Scootaloo wondered whether he actually realised he even had one; he had never set any time aside to lend a sympathetic ear or a word of advice, and she constantly found herself having to suffer in silence. It was only after meeting Sweetie-Belle one Winter Wrap-Up, and subsequently Apple Bloom at Diamond Tiara's cute-ceañera, that she had begun to feel like anypony else actually cared for her, but even then she still found the subject of her mother far too emotional to talk about it with anypony, even Rumble and Rainbow Dash.

After another few minutes of watching Dinky and Derpy playing, Scootaloo decided to head over to Rumble's house and see what he was doing that day – hopefully a bit of time with her coltfriend would cheer her up. With that in mind, she trotted over to her scooter, donned her helmet and cruised out into the street.

“...and that's pretty much all I know off-hoof,” finished Soarin gravely. “Ever since her sister's death, Spitfire just lost contact with her niece altogether, so it's anypony's guess what's going on with Scootaloo and Slate Shard.”

Rainbow Dash paused, mulling over what she and Soarin had been discussing. Now that she knew a little more about Scootaloo's family, she understood why her number-one fan always seemed to avoid said topic, and she felt deeply sorry for Spitfire too; but what she still couldn't fathom was why the orange Pegasus filly had never even mentioned her father.

“Sure sounds like this Slate Shard guy's had it pretty rough after Typhoon's death,” she mused, “but that doesn't excuse the way he seems to be treating his daughter. Scootaloo's already lost one parent – the last thing she needs is the feeling that her father's abandoned her too.” She paused again. “You don't suppose he intended to neglect her the way he has?”

“I don't know what to think, Dashie,” admitted Soarin. “Granted, I did get the chance to meet him a few times – and believe me, he sure seemed a nice guy at the time – but that was way before Typhoon died.”

Rainbow Dash furrowed her brow, deep in thought. “Then I reckon I need to have a little talk with him,” she decided at last, getting up from her seat. “Whether or not he wants to accept it, no filly or colt should be living as hard a life as Scootaloo seems to be living right now.”

Soarin nodded gravely as he too stood up from behind his desk. “In that case, I'm coming with you; that way, Slate Shard will know you're connected to the Wonderbolts and will be more willing to listen,” he said. “But we'd better talk it out with Spitfire first.”

“I'll say we should,” agreed Rainbow Dash. “I wouldn't want my soon-to-be hubby getting kicked out just for worrying about my number-one fan,” and she followed Soarin out of his office towards the other side of the building.

Spitfire had been busy with paperwork all morning, and was now taking a coffee break before heading out on a tour of inspection. Just as she was taking her first sip, she heard a knock at her office door.

“Who is it?” she asked, setting her mug down on the desk.

“Commander Soarin Starr and Cadet Rainbow Dash,” came the reply. “There's something we want to discuss with you, Captain.”

“Can it wait a while, Soarin? I'm on a pretty tight schedule today.”

“Afraid not, Spitty; it's really important.”

The amber Pegasus mare sighed and shook her head. As if she didn't have enough to worry about that day! “Alright, Soarin, but make it brief; I can only spare five minutes.”

The door slowly swung open, allowing Soarin and Rainbow Dash into the office. Both Pegasi took a seat in front of Spitfire's desk and immediately began to explain; “Well, Spitty, it's like this; Dashie and I are worried that a certain fan filly of hers by the name of Scootaloo may be having trouble with her family.”

Spitfire gave Soarin a perplexed and slightly annoyed look. “You came in here just to talk about a few problems with one of Rainbow Dash's fans?!”

“Not just any fan,” pointed out Soarin. “Don't you remember who Scootaloo is?”

That hit the nail on the head. The annoyance and confusion on Spitfire's face suddenly gave way to a look of utter disbelief. “How did Rainbow Dash find out about my niece?” she exclaimed. “I don't remember saying anything to her about...”

“Actually, Spitfire,” volunteered Rainbow Dash, “I'd known that filly since before I enrolled in the Academy; she had always looked up to me like I was her big sister, and I'd been helping her learn how to fly, but she never told me about her family, so I didn't know you two were related until Soarin told me. I'm awful sorry about what happened to your sister, by the way,” she added softly.

“You...you didn't...” Spitfire gazed in shock and dismay at Soarin, too distraught to finish the sentence. A few small tears formed in her eyes as the memories of her deceased sister flooded into her mind like water from behind a broken dam. Rainbow Dash found it difficult to keep herself from shedding a tear of her own; she held a great respect for her captain, and to see her so disheartened all of a sudden made her heart bleed.

“Spitty, I know this is a sensitive topic for you, and I can understand you may be mad at me, but this is one of your kin we're talking about,” said Soarin gently. “For all we know, Scootaloo's father could have been...”

“Soarin, you don't need to blueprint it for me,” interrupted Spitfire, quickly pulling herself together. “Yes, Typhoon's death may have been pretty rough on me, but your concerns about her daughter hardly constitute gross insubordination. You were quite right to worry about Scootaloo and her father, and I'm really grateful for it.”

Soarin gave his superior a soft, reassuring smile in reply. “You're welcome, Spitty. Anyway, with your permission, Dashie and I wish to go down to Ponyville and have a word with Slate Shard – see what's really going on with him and Scootaloo.”

Spitfire pondered for a few seconds before heaving a deep sigh. “Permission granted, Soarin; but don't be too long down there if you can help it,” she advised. “I can't afford to postpone the air display because our cadets haven't completed their training.”

“Understood, Captain,” conceded Soarin, and saluted smartly before turning to head off to Ponyville. But as he and Rainbow Dash left the office, Spitfire quietly turned to face her office window, her head hanging with shame and sorrow as she thought of her ill-fated sister. Typhoon had meant a great deal to the fiery amber mare since foalhood, so naturally she had never truly recovered from said pony's death all those years ago. Worst of all, now that Rainbow Dash and Soarin had voiced their concerns for what Scootaloo seemed to be going through, it seemed to her as though the lives of the family Typhoon had left behind – and indeed the family itself – were falling apart too, like dilapidated old drystone bridges whose keystones had long since been dislodged. Unless Soarin and Rainbow Dash could replace those keystones somehow, she would never be able to forgive herself......

Chapter 3: My Little Runaway

Down in Ponyville, Scootaloo was glumly trundling her scooter back towards home. Halfway across town, she had remembered with deep disappointment that Rumble and his family had gone to visit his cousin and wouldn't be back until evening drew in, so instead she had gone to see if her other friends wanted to hang out.

But no matter where the orange Pegasus filly looked, there didn't seem to be a single friend who could spare any time to hang out with her – Apple Bloom was busy helping her older siblings with the first apple crop of the season; Rarity had taken Sweetie-Belle to the beach as a treat; Dinky, understandably, was still spending some quality time with Derpy; and even Noi had gone to Canterlot for a week to see her uncle. It certainly wouldn't be any use going back to Rumble's house later that evening, Scootaloo told herself, for although they may have been a couple, it hardly seemed tactful just to invite herself round without letting him rest after his journey home. In the end, she reluctantly gave up and decided to go home.

As she approached her house, she happened to glance up to the sky, where dark clouds were gathering together and beginning to block out the sunlight. By the looks of it, Ponyville was in for a heavy storm that night.

“That's all I need,” muttered Scootaloo bitterly. “First I'm not left any breakfast, then I find that nopony else has any time for me, and now I'm gonna be up all night because of some stupid storm! Still,” she went on, “on the plus side, at least I've got a good, firm roof over my head – for what it's worth.”

She left her scooter under a rather clumsily-built lean-to shelter and trudged grumpily into the house. At the same time, an exhausted Slate Shard was entering through the front door, but he barely seemed to notice Scootaloo as he plodded wearily into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. It had been a long, hard day for him; an axle had sheared on one of the slate trucks, and he had had a terrible time trying to move its remains over to one side, so as to clear the line for the other half of his train.

“What a day,” he moaned, mounting his chin on the armrest. “How my boss expects me to keep this up every day, I'll never know.” He sighed heavily, staring mournfully out of the window; “I really wish you were still here, Typhoon.”

But his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. Great, he thought, now the local council were about to bug him again......or were they? Grudgingly, he stood up and made his way to the front hallway to see who it was.

“I know, I know,” he mumbled, slowly opening the door, “I'm behind on the rent a...” but he never finished. The two ponies on the other side of the doorway, one rainbow-maned mare and one two-tone blue stallion, didn't look the least bit like councillors, but despite this, he had a feeling he knew them from somewhere.

“You are Slate Shard, I take it?” asked the mare.

“Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?”

“Well, yes and no,” said the stallion. “I don't know if you still remember me, Slate Shard; I'm Wing Commander Soarin Starr, second-in-command of the Wonderbolts, and this here is Rainbow Dash, my fiancée and the Wonderbolt Academy's top cadet.”

Slate Shard was most surprised. “Soarin? But I thought you Wonderbolts had stopped writing to us years ago!”

“Yes, well......we would have, but only Spitfire had your address,” explained Soarin sheepishly. “She never actually gave it to anypony else after......after the accident, so none of us could find out what was going on with you and your daughter. Matter of fact, that's why Rainbow Dash and I wanted to speak to you.”

The orange-coated quarry-pony sighed heavily. Today just wasn't his lucky day, he thought to himself; all he wanted was some downtime before turning in for the night, but now he had to contend with the concerns of two Pegasi regarding his daughter. “Alright then,” he answered, reluctantly opening the door further. “Come on in, but be sure to wipe your hooves.”

Soarin and Rainbow Dash duly obliged, and followed Slate Shard into the living room. If they thought Scootaloo had been neglected over the last few years, the house itself didn't look like it had fared any better; the sofa was old and faded with a few holes worn into the fabric, the coffee table in the middle of the room looked as though it had suffered from dry-rot at some point, and even the paint on the walls had become dull and flaky. Definitely no place for a growing filly to live, thought Rainbow Dash as she and Soarin took the sofa, while Slate Shard pulled up an equally worn armchair.

“So what's the trouble then?” asked Slate Shard. Deep down, he had a bad feeling he knew what they wanted to say, but tried not to show his anxiety nonetheless.

“Well, Slate Shard, it's like this; Scootaloo and I have been really close friends for quite some time now,” explained Rainbow Dash, “but she never once told me about you or her mother, and Soarin and I have reason to believe it's something to do with the way you've been treating her over the last four or five years.”

“How do you mean?”

“She seemed to get all embarrassed and closed off every time I asked about her parents,” Rainbow Dash clarified. “I'm not gonna start pointing any hooves, but we're worried it might be a sign of...well, neglect.”

Slate Shard shot Rainbow Dash an apprehensive glare. “What the hay are you talking about?!” he objected. “I've been working my flanks off trying to provide for her – how can you call that neglect, might I ask?”

“Now hang on, Slate Shard,” cut in Soarin, promptly stalling the argument that would inevitably be coming their way, “just how much father-daughter time do you set aside for Scootaloo on, say, a daily basis?”

“Long enough,” replied Slate Shard obstinately. “What's this gotta do with you anyway?”

“Everything, if it means you're not actually spending enough time with her,” insisted Rainbow Dash. “This is your daughter we're talking about, not just some random visitor to your house!”

What none of them could have known was that Scootaloo, of all ponies, was just on the other side of the door. She had gone downstairs to find herself a drink, but had overheard what she immediately recognised as Rainbow Dash's voice, and she was now eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Slate Shard, that filly means almost as much to me as Soarin!” she heard Rainbow Dash saying. “I've every right and reason to worry about her – and frankly, I'm surprised you don't seem to give a darn for her!”

“For Pete's sake, Rainbow Dash, I've been making darn well sure I have enough money to see to her needs! What more am I supposed to do?!”

Scootaloo choked back a few tears as she continued to listen in on the argument. It hardly came as a surprise that Rainbow Dash cared so deeply for her, but to actually hear that from her idol still touched her deeply. But despite this, it did little to soothe the ache in her heart that had plagued her for so many years since her mother had died; she had secretly hoped that her father actually cared for her enough to hang out with her sometimes, and now it seemed as if he didn't want anything to do with his own little filly.

“Providence isn't everything when it comes to parenting,” stated another voice firmly. “Dashie and I aren't even close to being parents ourselves – not yet, anyway – but you wouldn't catch us leaving our kids to look after themselves at that age.”

“Are you saying I'm a bad parent!?”

“Well, for all we know, you could be!” retorted Rainbow Dash. “I mean, when was the last time you..”

“Look, I don't need advice from some rebel with ideas above her station!” snapped Slate Shard. “I'm doing a good enough job of looking after my daughter, and that's all there is to it!”

If he had had any idea what was about to happen next, however, he would have immediately buttoned his lip. All those years of heartache, loneliness, distress and countless other emotions that Scootaloo had been bottling up suddenly caught up to her like a runaway train, causing her to lose control of herself completely. Before either Rainbow Dash or Soarin could argue their point any further, she flung the door wide open, causing it to break away from its rusty hinges. “What do you mean you're doing a good enough job?!?” she burst out in helpless fury. “You never cared for me for one second – you never even tried!”

The three ponies turned towards the doorway, startled.

“Scootaloo!” exclaimed Slate Shard in alarm. “H-h-how long had you been out there?”

“Long enough, Slate Shard!”

This shook Slate Shard to the core. Never in all his life had his own daughter referred to him by his given name.

“I heard all those rotten lies about you being a good father! Well, guess what – you're the stupidest, most uncaring pony I've ever had to meet!” raged Scootaloo, her eyes flooding with angry tears. “You never listen to me when I'm having trouble at school, you never take me out for lunch or whatever – you never even make me any breakfast or tuck me into bed at night! You might as well have left me to live on the streets – which is what I'm gonna do from now on!” and she stomped down the hallway towards the front door.

Quickly coming to his senses, Slate Shard leaped up from his armchair and ran after his last remaining family member. “Scootaloo, wait!” he begged. “You don't understand...”

“SHUT UP!!!” screamed Scootaloo, causing Slate Shard to flinch slightly. “I NEVER WANTED YOU AS A PARENT, YOU MULE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” With that, she flung the door open and bolted into the open streets, never once looking back at the place she used to call home.

Slate Shard ran after his daughter, desperately calling her back, but she paid him no attention whatsoever, and so after just a few yards, he gave up and collapsed onto his haunches, sobbing hard. At that very same moment, a roll of thunder could be heard from all around, and almost before he realised it, rain had started to fall. Not that he cared anyway; he had tried so hard to preserve what little family he had left, but it had only led to his own daughter disowning him.

“Oh, Typhoon,” he faltered, “what have I done...I'm sorry...I've really let you down this time...I'm awfully sorry...”

He sat morosely in the middle of the street, tearfully remembering that fateful day when a despondent stallion turned up on his doorstep with tragic news of his wife, and how inconsolable his little filly had been at not being able to see her mother ever again, or even say her last goodbye to her. He remembered how Scootaloo had tried time and time again to seek solace from him whenever he was around, and all he ever did was wearily send her elsewhere so that he could have some quiet time after such a hard day at the quarry – but instead of helping him recover from his grief, it had caused him far more pain than he had bargained for. If only he had been there for her instead of acting as if she didn't exist...

“Slate Shard?”

The distraught quarry-pony looked over his shoulder to see Soarin and Rainbow Dash standing just behind him. Although Rainbow Dash still seemed a little apprehensive, both ponies now looked deeply concerned. He looked down at his hooves, visibly ashamed. “You were right all along, Rainbow Dash,” he murmured, averting his gaze at the two Pegasi. “I'm not just a bad parent – I'm the worst one who's ever lived! I can't believe I thought I had a chance of fulfilling my promise.”

Rainbow Dash cocked her head in confusion. “What promise?”

Slate Shard hung his head in sorrow. “Typhoon had always been the breadwinner of the family,” he explained gloomily. “I hardly get anything from hauling wagons around a slate quarry, and my boss never even listens to me when I ask for a pay rise. That was why Typhoon took up stunt-flying again – by the time Scootaloo was about four years old, we had used up most of our savings and were pretty short of money. After she died, I was left with a really tough decision. Either I had to carry on as normal, in which case we'd lose our house eventually, or I had to put Scootaloo up for adoption. I couldn't bear to part with her though; she's all the family I have left, and I felt that I'd be alone for the rest of my life if that happened, so at Typhoon's funeral, I made a promise never to let anything of the sort happen to our daughter – ever. I should have known I'd never be able to keep that promise,” he finished, his eyes filling with tears once again.

By now, neither Rainbow Dash nor Soarin could help feeling sorry for the broken stallion. In spite of his apparent ignorance, Slate Shard truly cared for Scootaloo. He had tried his level best for her, and the only response he had elicited from her was one of anger, hatred and distress.

Rainbow Dash smiled sadly and rested a reassuring hoof on Slate Shard's shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly, “you don't need to beat yourself up about it, Slate Shard. It's not too late to make it up to her – as long as we can find her, that is.”

“But how?!” wailed Slate Shard. “She could be anywhere!”

“He's right, Dashie,” agreed Soarin gravely. “Even with our speed and observance, I doubt we'd be able to find her that easily.” But no sooner had he finished than, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Apple Bloom walking past, clad in an apple-green raincoat and matching hat. At that very same moment, a sudden burst of inspiration caused his face to light up again; “Unless...”

“Right with you, Soarin! Call us crazy, Slate Shard, but I reckon it's high time we called in the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”

“The what?” exclaimed a bewildered Slate Shard.

But Rainbow Dash wasn't listening. Without wasting a single second, she galloped over to the yellow farm filly. “Apple Bloom,” she called, “we need your help!”

Apple Bloom looked up from the bag of groceries she was carrying, noticeably surprised. “What's the problem?”

“Scootaloo's run away!” explained Rainbow Dash tersely. “I need you and the other Cutie Mark Crusaders to help me and Soarin and her father search for her!”

“She's what?!” Apple Bloom was horrified. “But why?!”

“Never mind that, A.B.!” ordered Rainbow Dash. “Just round up the other Crusaders and get searching! Anything could happen to Scootaloo in this kind of weather!”

“Okay, Dash, Ah'm on it!” and Apple Bloom scurried away.

Ten minutes later, Apple Bloom and most of her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders were assembled at the town hall. Rumble and Sweetie-Belle had only just returned by this time, but with Noi still away, Apple Bloom had had to enlist the help of Ruby Pinch, Piña Colada, Lickety-Split and Truffle Shuffle as well.

“Listen up, everypony!” she announced. “We've got a serious problem on our hooves – Scootaloo's gone missin'.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders all murmured amongst themselves in fear and dismay. Rumble in particular was so horrified that he nearly burst into tears.

“We dunno how, when, why or where to, but what Ah do know is that Rainbow Dash an' Soarin need help tryin' ta find her, an' that's why Ah'm declarin' a state of emergency. Now here's the deal,” went on Apple Bloom, rolling out a hastily drawn map of Ponyville. “Ah've split this map up into five sectors, each of which will be searched by two ponies. Ruby Pinch, Piña, y'all take the town centre. Look in every street an' alleyway ya come across, an' leave no stone unturned!”

“Will do, Apple Bloom,” conceded Piña Colada.

“Sweetie-Belle can search up in the north with Lickety-Split, Tootsie an' Truffle will take the south, Dinky an' Pipsqueak, y'all go west, an' Tornado Bolt an' Rumble can take up the east. Ah'll be searchin' round Sweet Apple Acres with Applejack an' Big Macintosh; if ya can, bring 'er straight back there as soon as ya find her. If not, one o' y'all inform me immediately. Any questions?”

“I don't think so, Apple Bloom,” replied Pipsqueak bravely. “We're all raring to go!”

“Good!” said Apple Bloom. “Then let's get started!”

And so, with a cry of “Cutie Mark Crusader Rescue Rangers are GO!” all eleven fillies and colts galloped off to their respective search areas, intent on finding their missing friend.

Chapter 4: In Sickness or in Sorrow

Soarin, Slate Shard, Rainbow Dash and the Cutie Mark Crusaders searched every nook and cranny of Ponyville for Scootaloo, calling out her name wherever they went. Down alleys and streets, over rivers, streams and railway lines, under trees, bushes and bridges, in town and countryside, from high in the air or down on the ground, they kept their ears open and their eyes peeled for any lead as to where the orange Pegasus filly might be. But no matter where they looked, or how hard they tried, there was no sign of her whatsoever, and even when they asked around, nopony else seemed to know where she was. After a whole hour of searching, even Rumble was almost ready to give up.

“This is hopeless,” he whimpered despairingly, as he and Tornado Bolt searched the edge of Sweet Apple Acres for the umpteenth time that evening. “We're never gonna find her at this rate.”

“Get a hold of yourself, Rumble!” urged Tornado Bolt. “We can't just leave her to freeze to death or be struck by lightning or whatever. Her father would never let us hear the end of it if we did. Anyway, I thought she was your fillyfriend!”

“Who said she wasn't?” objected Rumble. “I still love that filly as much as I do my own family – well, a lot more than that, if I'm honest – but how's that going to help me find her anyway?”

Tornado Bolt was just about to reply when they heard Apple Bloom calling out Scootaloo's name from nearby – “SCOOTALOO! SCOOT-SCOOTALOOOOOO!”

Rumble grimaced in annoyance as he marched over to the yellow farm filly. “Apple Bloom,” he burst out crossly, “what the hay are you doing?!”

“Well that's the way ya call fo' a chicken,” retorted Apple Bloom pointedly, “so why not Scootaloo?”

“Cut it out, Apple Bloom!” shouted Rumble, angrily swatting Apple Bloom with the back of his hoof. “This is a lost filly we're dealing with, not an escaped hen!”

“Yeah, Apple Bloom, get serious!” added Tornado Bolt. “This isn't a laughing matter, you know – if we fail at this mission, we stand to lose a friend as well as a fellow Crusader...”

“Okay, okay, Ah get the message already!” interrupted Apple Bloom promptly. She paused for a few seconds; “Any sign of 'er yet?”

“Not a thing,” replied Rumble anxiously. “For all we know, she could have gone beyond the outskirts.”

Apple Bloom furrowed her brow. “Then keep lookin'!” she ordered. “We've gotta find her!” and she galloped away quickly.

But just as soon as the little farm filly disappeared into the haze created by the heavy rain, Rumble and Tornado Bolt heard an excited shout from nearby. The two Pegasi spun round to see Sweetie-Belle and Lickety-Split pointing towards a flash of orange that was just crossing a small stream.

“There she is!” cried Tornado Bolt thankfully. “We've found her!”

Overwhelmed with relief, Rumble raced towards the bridge, ready to fling his arms around Scootaloo and bury his face in her shoulder – but his elation quickly turned to horror as he came close. No sooner was he within a few yards of his fillyfriend than she suddenly collapsed, shivering uncontrollably.

“Scootaloo!” he wailed fearfully. The grey Pegasus colt ran alongside the trembling filly and nudged her repeatedly, trying his best to bring her round. “Scootaloo, are you okay? Answer me! Please, say something!”

Scootaloo's eyes flickered, but she barely seemed to recognise any of the ponies now surrounding her, let alone Rumble. She opened her mouth to try and reply to him, but her voice was so slurred and tremulous that he couldn't understand a word she was saying, and it took all her strength even to move her jaw. Before anypony could try and get any sense out of her, said strength finally gave out, and her head slumped against the side of the bridge.

“Oh no!” gasped Rumble in terror. He shook her body vigorously, desperately shouting into her ear; “Scootaloo, wake up! Don't leave me, please! You're gonna be okay! Wake up! Please, speak to me!”

“I don't think she will if we stay out here any longer.” Lickety-Split removed his right front hoof from Scootaloo's forehead, a grave look on his face. “She's pretty delirious right now, and if we don't get her inside, she could......well...” but he didn't say any more. He didn't need to. Just by looking at his grim expression, Rumble could easily tell what he was getting at.

“Sweetie-Belle, go and tell Rarity what's happened to Scootaloo!” he barked. “The Carousel Boutique's nearby; it's our only hope if we're to save her life!”

Sweetie-Belle was aghast. “But what if she refuses?!” she protested. “Scootaloo's not exactly her favourite pony at the moment – and besides, with Spike at the boutique, she'll...”

“There's no time!” ordered Rumble sharply. “We won't be able to make it to the farmhouse before...well...”

“Before what?”

“Never mind what,” yelled Rumble, “just go!”

Without another word, Sweetie-Belle turned and galloped over to the boutique as fast as she could, silently praying to Celestia that Rarity would be merciful enough to help them, while Rumble, Tornado Bolt and Lickety-Split set about perching Scootaloo on their backs...

At the Carousel Boutique, Rarity and Spike stood back to examine the white unicorn mare's latest creation. For several weeks now, Rarity had been working on a smart new dress for the Duchess of Trottingham, and had only just finished applying the final touches.

Spike marvelled at the sight of the newly completed dress as he looked it all over. “Wow, Rarity,” he breathed, “that looks fantastic! Forget the Duchess; that design looks fit for a queen!”

Rarity smiled warmly as she nuzzled her dragon lover. “Why, thank you, my little Spikey-Wikey,” she replied fondly, “but I could never have done it without your help,” and she planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Anything for you, Lady Rarity,” said Spike, beaming affectionately at the pure-white unicorn.

The two of them gazed into each other's eyes for a few moments, lost in the love they had shared ever since Rarity had risked life and limb to save Spike from drowning. Even after a whole year, she could hardly believe how much he had changed; when he and Twilight had first moved in from Canterlot, he was still only a baby dragon. Now, having physically aged to just a few years younger than Rarity in pony terms, he was about a head taller and far more handsome than what he used to be, and had become rather more generous and well-mannered too. And to think that his last growth spurt, fuelled purely by greed, had temporarily turned him into a hideous beast until she miraculously managed to bring him out of it! Well worth the wait for this new and improved Spikey-Wikey, she thought as she slowly moved her face closer to his...

Suddenly, there was a loud slamming noise accompanied by the jingling of store bells, which startled both pony and dragon. They sprang apart, wondering what was going on. Next minute, they could hear a familiar voice screaming up the stairs.

“RARITY, HELP!!”

“That's Sweetie-Belle!” exclaimed Spike.

Rarity quickly flung open the door with her magic and bolted out into the hallway to find her sister running towards her in a state of panic. “What is it, Sweetie-Belle?”

“Scootaloo!” panted Sweetie-Belle, trying to catch her breath. “Ran away...from home...me...Rumble...Lickety...found her...unconscious...near orchard...boutique...nearest shelter...please...help us!”

Rarity's eyes widened in horror. She may not have been particularly fond of Scootaloo at the moment, but after hearing how dire her condition was from Sweetie-Belle, all she could think of was how little time the orange filly had left. “Where exactly!?” she asked.

“East of...boutique...”

“Right, then you help Spike get my bed ready!” instructed Rarity tersely. “I'll go and bring her in!” and before Sweetie-Belle could answer, she dashed down the hallway and out of the front door.

The wind and rain seemed to come at Rarity from all directions, ruining her expertly brushed mane and tail as she galloped through the storm-racked streets. But for one of the few times in her life, she didn't care; all that mattered to her was finding Scootaloo and bringing her back to the safety of her boutique. At last, she found Rumble, Tornado Bolt and Lickety-Split stumbling along in the opposite direction, with the weakened Pegasus filly draped over all three foals' backs.

“Rarity!” cried Rumble, noticing the white mare rapidly approaching them. “Thank Celestia you're here! Scootaloo's in an awfully bad way...”

“Calm down, Rumble,” interrupted Rarity gently, “everything's going to be alright. I'll get her under cover tout suite; you go and tell her parents where she is.” She then scooped up Scootaloo with her magic and raced back to the boutique.

A look of fresh consternation spread across Rumble's face. “Hang about – we don't even know who her parents are or where they live!” he exclaimed.

Lickety-Split paused. “Then go tell Rainbow Dash,” he instructed. “If anypony knows who her parents are, she will. Tornado Bolt and I will let Apple Bloom and the others know she's safe.”

Within half an hour, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were gathered in the Carousel Boutique along with Lickety-Split, Truffle Shuffle, Piña Colada and Ruby Pinch. All had been anxious to see how Scootaloo was doing, but Rarity refused to let anypony else into her bedroom, so they had no choice but to wait in the lobby, all the while praying to Celestia for their friend to be alright. Rumble, still terrified for his unfortunate fillyfriend, had singled himself out from the rest of the fillies and colts and was now sitting in a foetal position against the wall on the far side of the room to them, silently crying to himself.

Sweetie-Belle was rather distressed too, not just because of the fever from which Scootaloo was suffering, but also out of fear for what Rarity might be doing to her at this very moment. Lickety-Split did his best to comfort her, but it wasn't until Rarity returned downstairs that her fears began to dissipate – though only by a small amount.

“How is she, Rarity?” asked Apple Bloom.

“You didn't do anything nasty to her while she was still out, did you, sis?” whimpered Sweetie-Belle. “Please say you didn't.”

Rarity gave her little sister a blank stare. “Why in the world would I do such a thing?”

Sweetie-Belle looked away, trying to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes. “Well...I just thought......since you hadn't accepted Scootaloo's apology for what happened to Spike...I mean...I'm not really gonna hold a grudge against her myself,” she stammered, “but......”

“Yes?”

At last, the little unicorn filly couldn't contain herself any longer. She suddenly broke free from Lickety-Split's embrace and flung her forelegs around Rarity. “I was scared you might try and harm her further!” she wailed, sobbing hard into her sister's mane.

Rarity was struggling to fight back tears herself as she returned the embrace. “Oh, Sweetie-Belle, of course I wouldn't,” she said softly. “Scootaloo may have been a bit harsh with Spike before I got back from Canterlot, but I'd never wish any harm on her myself. It was really ungrateful of me not to accept her apology, I understand that now; but what's important right now is that Scootaloo is nursed back to full health.”

“That still don't answer our question!” interjected Apple Bloom impatiently. “Is she recoverin' from that fever o' hers or ain't she?!”

“Calm down, Apple Bloom,” soothed Rarity calmly. “Scootaloo's going to be fine; she's gone down with a really bad cold, but given plenty of rest, it should clear itself up in about a week's time.”

This prompted a collective sigh of relief among most of the other ponies. The only response Rumble could manage, however, was a soft whimper.

“But what about Spike?” added Lickety-Split anxiously. “He didn't take an opportunity to burn away part of Scootaloo's mane or something, did he?”

“Ah, don't go on, Lickety, I'm past that stage now.” Everypony turned to find Spike standing at the foot of the staircase. “Rarity's right; both of us should have accepted Scoot's apology months ago – that and it wouldn't have been right to just let her perish. Rainbow Dash would never forgive us for a start, and besides, we've gotta consider...”

But before he could finish, there was the rattling sound of a door handle turning to no effect, followed by a sharp knock. Rarity hurriedly trotted over to the front door, unlocked it, and opened up to find Rainbow Dash, Soarin, Slate Shard and a further two Pegasi whose names seemed to have escaped her standing just outside.

“Why, Rainbow Dash!” she exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“We came as quickly as we could,” answered Rainbow Dash. “It's just that Memphis Belle and Blue Finch were out looking for Rumble, so we had to tell them what was going on with Scootaloo.”

Rumble gingerly lifted his head from his forelegs at the mention of his parents. His vision was still heavily blurred by his tears, but he could just make out the colours and outlines of both his parents as they walked slowly towards him.

Memphis Belle was most dismayed to see her son in such a state. “Oh, my baby,” she gasped, trotting over to him, “what's wrong?”

Rumble opened his mouth to reply, but only succeeded in bringing further tears to his eyes. Unable to hold himself back, he flung his forelegs around his mother and bawled loudly into her shoulder as she gently stroked his head.

“She could have died......we nearly lost her...”

“Shh, it's okay, honey,” soothed Memphis Belle calmly. “Mommy's here. Mommy's got you.”

Blue Finch raised an eyebrow. “I don't understand. What's going on around here?”

“Yeah, where's my daughter?” added Slate Shard frantically.

“She's resting in my bed at the moment,” explained Rarity gravely. “She had gone down with a terrible cold while out in the rain, and if it hadn't been for Sweetie-Belle, she might have succumbed to a severe case of hypothermia.”

Slate Shard was so mortified that he couldn't think of anything to say or do; he just stood and gazed at Rarity, his mouth agape with despair. His knees quivered, threatening to give way any second, and he was forced to take a seat before they did.

“Oh no!” he faltered, bursting into tears for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. “This is all my fault...I'm so sorry, Typhoon...I didn't mean for this to happen...please forgive me...”

“Forgive you for what?” asked Blue Finch, confused.

Slate Shard avoided looking at anypony, least of all Rainbow Dash. “For being the worst father in history, that's what,” he sniffed morosely, hanging his head in shame and choking back further tears. “I should have been there for Scootaloo – but I wasn't! I never even took a morning off of work to bond with her; all I ever did was slave away in the quarries till I was completely spent, and all because I was so stupid as to obsess over my sadness for the death of my wife!” Even though he wasn't looking, the broken quarry-pony could feel the many eyes gazing at him in what he thought was mere disbelief. “I know – I deserve to be imprisoned for this.”

But he couldn't have been any more wrong about the other ponies' reactions. They were so deeply dismayed by his revelation that no-one, not even Spike, could help but feel sorry for him.

Rumble was the first to respond. Gently breaking free from Memphis Belle's arms, he tiptoed over to the deflated stallion and rested a comforting hoof on his knee. “I'm really sorry to hear about your wife, mister,” he said gently. “It must have been really horrible for you both when you heard about it.”

Slate Shard looked up slightly to see the grey Pegasus colt smiling kindly at him, but it did little to soothe his hurt feelings. “You don't understand,” he sobbed. “None of you do...”

“Well, actually,” interjected Blue Finch, “we do. Everypony goes through that sort of thing no matter who they are or what their age happens to be. Look at me for example; my grandfather was really special to me, but nothing I could do would save him from dying of old age.”

“Yeah, and then there was my uncle Hawk Wing,” added Rumble solemnly. “He was killed by something the doctor calls a stroke when I was just a toddler, and it took me a long time to recover from his death.”

“I 'ad an uncle who used to show me round the ships at Manehattan Harbour,” volunteered Pipsqueak. “We would visit 'im quite frequently during the school 'olidays, but then one year we got a telegram saying the ship 'e was workin' on 'ad just......well, vanished. We never found out what 'appened to him.”

“I never found out what happened to my parents either,” chipped in Spike gravely. “I was hatched from my egg by Twilight as part of her entrance exam, so I never even got the chance to find out who they are.”

“Nor did I get the chance to know my Daddy,” said Dinky. “He passed away shortly before I was born.”

“Even Ah've lost both mah parents to an applebuckin' accident when Ah was about six months old,” finished Apple Bloom. “Ever since then, mah brother an' sister an' Ah have had ta provide for ourselves.”

Slate Shard goggled in disbelief. “You mean to say you've been going it alone for most of your lives?!” he gasped. “That's just...it's incredible is what it is!”

“Well...not exactly alone,” corrected Apple Bloom. “We have our Granny Smith lookin' after us too, but she's gettin' on in years, so it's mostly been Applejack an' Big Mac an' a family friend of ours. The point is,” she went on, giving Slate Shard an understanding smile, “y'all aren't alone in yo' grief. We've all been there at some point in our lives.”

The other fillies and colts in the room nodded their agreement, but were secretly impressed by Apple Bloom's wise words. They had never known her to be so philosophical before. Even Slate Shard was moved by her uncharacteristic eloquence.

“It's natural to grieve over the loss of a loved one,” observed Blue Finch, “but that kind of emotion can be extremely unpredictable at the best of times. Sometimes it can draw us closer to our friends and family, and sometimes it can cause us to try and bury our sorrow in such a way that we forget our true responsibilities, whether through work, play or even alcoholism.”

“So perhaps you may have forgotten to compromise between work and play, Slate Shard,” Soarin pointed out, “but you still did a fairly good job of trying to raise Scootaloo alone under the circumstances.”

Slate Shard didn't look too convinced though. “If only that were true,” he muttered sadly. “Scootaloo has every reason to hate me now that I've made her life so miserable.” He took a deep breath, trying in vain to steel himself for what he had to say next; “In fact, the only thing I could possibly do to make things better now is to...well, what I should have done in the first place.”

“Which is what?”

“To let her go, Soarin – put her up for adoption and......and never get to see her again.”

Rainbow Dash was so deeply shocked by Slate Shard's heart-wrenching decision that it made her own heart bleed. He may not have been a competent parent by any means, but now that the rainbow-maned Pegasus had got to know him better, she had come to realise just how much he loved his little filly, and it brought tears to her eyes to know he was about to give up altogether – especially if it meant he never got to visit his daughter once she had been adopted...

Or did it, she wondered? If her adoptive parents happened to be a family friend, then maybe Slate Shard wouldn't need to worry about being separated from Scootaloo for the rest of his life – somepony like Blue Finch, or one of her fellow Wonderbolts – or maybe...just maybe......

“Come on, Slate Shard,” she encouraged, “you and Scoot may not be on the best of terms with each other right now, but that doesn't mean you have to distance yourself from her. In fact, I think I might have a solution that could work for all of us.”

“Really?” asked Slate Shard, perking up for the first time in several hours.

“Sure,” beamed Rainbow Dash, and motioned for him and Soarin to come closer. Both ponies were rather confused, but leaned forward nonetheless, and listened intently as the soon-to-be Wonderbolt whispered into their ears. Nopony else could make out what she was trying to say, but from the look on the quarry-pony's face, it was clearly giving him a faint glimmer of hope.

At last, Slate Shard simply nodded in reply. “That would be really helpful, Rainbow Dash,” he said softly. “I sure hope Scootaloo agrees.”

“Oh, she will, Slate Shard,” chuckled Soarin. “Whether she forgives you is up to her, but I'd say she'd be over the moon. Mind you, Dashie, it'd be a good idea to run it past Spitfire first,” he added.

“Don't worry, Soar; I was gonna send her a telegram anyway, so I may as well let her in on my plan too. I'll be right back,” and Rainbow Dash left the boutique for the nearby post office...

Chapter 6: All Is Forgiven

Scootaloo paused for a moment, letting a small tear trickle down her cheek. After how she had nearly contributed to a sticky end for Spike, both he and his unicorn marefriend had spurned the unfortunate young filly like an ex-criminal who had just been released from prison, and now they were saying they had been wrong to hold it against her for so long. “Okay, Rarity,” she conceded at last, “it's forgotten.”

“There's a good girl,” smiled Rarity, patting Scootaloo's shoulder in a motherly way. “Oh, and speaking of family, your father wants to come in and have a little talk with you.”

The orange-coated Pegasus filly looked down at her untouched soup bowl. “Could he come back later maybe?” she replied, a tone of uncertainty apparent in her voice. “I need some time to think.”

“Oh, but Scootaloo, he really wants to see you right now,” protested Rarity in a plaintive tone. “Hadn't Rumble and Sweetie-Belle told you how worried he was last night? He's lost so much sleep wondering if you were alright, and he didn't even want to go home.”

“So?”

“So that means he cares for you a lot more than you thought he did,” said Rumble. “Come on, Scoot – at least give him a chance. Forgiveness heals all wounds, so my Mom says.”

Even Sweetie-Belle seemed to be on Rarity's side. She didn't say anything, but gave her friend the cutest, saddest look she could manage. This was enough to make Scootaloo relent; “Ugh, fine!” she muttered. “Go ahead and let him in!”

“That's the spirit, Scoot,” encouraged Sweetie-Belle, as Rarity called out into the hallway. Scootaloo simply rolled her eyes and watched as Rainbow Dash and Soarin entered the room, followed by a rather uneasy Slate Shard.

The orange-coated quarry-pony cautiously approached the bed and sat himself down next to it, unable as yet to even look upon his daughter he was so ashamed of himself. His mouth was slightly opened as if he was trying to speak, but he couldn't seem to find the right words. Scootaloo merely stared into space, pretending not to notice.

At last, Slate Shard managed to break the awkward silence that hung over them. “So......how are you feeling, Scootaloo?” he asked nervously.

“Well let's see – I nearly froze to death last night when I ran out of the house,” replied Scootaloo sullenly, “and now I'm stuck in bed with a bad cold and a stallion who's done absolutely nothing for me since Mom died. What do you think?!”

Slate Shard hung his head with shame, mentally berating himself for being so insensitive yet again. “I'm so, so sorry, Scootaloo,” he faltered. “You had it way tougher than I ever did, and I never once realised that; all I ever did was bury myself in my work when I should have been there for you after your mother's death, even if only for about half an hour.” He paused, shedding a few tears. “I didn't mean to make life so tough for you. It's just that...well, slaving away in a slate quarry means a lot of back-breaking work for hardly any pay, so unless I put those extra hours in, I wouldn't have enough left over to feed a sparrow, let alone a growing filly like you.”

Scootaloo stared at him in stunned disbelief. Rumble had definitely been telling the truth, she realised; but something still didn't seem to add up. “I don't get it,” she said quietly. “If you weren't able to provide for me without having to leave me at home alone, then why didn't you just give me away or something?”

Another silence followed. Slate Shard gazed down at the floor, still unable to look his daughter in the eye, while Spike, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Sweetie-Belle, Soarin and Rumble all watched him anxiously. Finally, his emotions completely overwhelmed him, and he suddenly flung his forelegs around Scootaloo, sobbing hard. It was lucky that Rarity had had her eye on the soup bowl at that moment, for she only just managed to pull it clear before Slate Shard could knock it over and spill it all over the bedclothes.

“I couldn't, Scootaloo!” he practically choked. “I just couldn't! You're all I have left – I couldn't bear the thought of sending you away to a family who would probably care way less for you than I ever could! I'd rather be killed by a Changeling than have that happen to you!”

By this time, Scootaloo could no longer hold back tears herself. She gingerly wrapped her own forelegs around her father and, hugging him tightly, buried her face in his shoulder as she let them flow. Now that she understood the impossible position in which Slate Shard had been landed, she regretted being so angry with him the night before, and silently wished that somepony would just deliver a hard swipe round the side of her head for being so heartless.

“You see, Scootaloo,” observed Rumble softly, “your Dad truly does care for you.”

“I know,” stammered Scootaloo despondently. “If only I'd realised that earlier, I wouldn't have run away.”

At that same moment, Slate Shard pulled back for air. “It's okay, Scootaloo,” he soothed. “I pretty much brought it on myself anyway. You're right; I'm not a good parent and you don't deserve to have somepony as incompetent as me looking after you.”

“So what, are you going to look for some kind of foster parents or something?” asked Sweetie-Belle.

Slate Shard shook his head gravely. “I'm afraid I can't, little miss,” he confessed. “I'd still need to work twice as hard at the quarry as I should be doing if I'm to pay for foster care. What I mean to say,” he added, staring down at the floor again, “is that I'm going to have to let her go.”

Scootaloo, Sweetie-Belle and Rumble were mortified. They knew all too well what this could mean.

“So...does that mean she's going to live in an orphanage?” faltered Sweetie-Belle despairingly. “That we never get to see her again?”

“Oh, I wouldn't say that, Sweetie-Belle,” assured Rainbow Dash, making her way over to the bed. Gently moving Slate Shard to one side, she took Scootaloo's right hoof in hers and softly asked, “Scootaloo, how would you like to come and live with me and Soarin?”

If Scootaloo had come across as being stunned earlier, she was now totally flabbergasted by what Rainbow Dash had just said. It was almost as if she had passed away in the night and was on her way to heaven, except that the pony awaiting her arrival there was in fact her idol rather than her mother – and yet it seemed so real!

“You really mean it?” she breathed. “You and Soarin take me into your family?”

“Sure do, tiger,” chuckled Rainbow Dash, directing a fond smile at her number-one fan. “I'd already spoken it through with your father – and your aunt Spitfire, by the way – and they're more than okay with it. Sure, Soarin and I might not be anywhere near as good at parenting as certain other ponies I can think of, but I'm sure we'll get used to it in time.”

Despite her poor condition, the orange Pegasus filly was so overjoyed that all she could think to do was fling her forelegs around her idol and cry into her shoulder with happiness. She didn't need to say anything; the warm tears soaking into her fur was all the approval Rainbow Dash needed. Sweetie-Belle, Rarity, Rumble and Spike all looked on, touched and relieved that everything in Scootaloo's life was about to be resolved once and for all, while Slate Shard gave his daughter a somewhat wistful glance out of the corner of his eye, glad that he had been able to put things right in some respects, but still a little pessimistic.

Eventually, Scootaloo resurfaced again, a broad smile of deepest gratitude plastered onto her face. “Does that mean I get to come back and see Rumble and the others every so often?” she asked hopefully.

“Every so often?!” chuckled Soarin. “With the housing arrangements we have in mind, 'every so often' probably wouldn't be often enough. Ponyville isn't too far from Cloudsdale, so with Spitfire's consent, Dashie and I have chosen to carry on living in that cloud mansion of hers; we won't be using our suite at Wonderbolt base unless it's absolutely necessary. That way, you'll be able to visit your friends – and your father – whenever you feel like it. How's that sound, sport?”

“That would be wonderful, Soarin,” beamed Scootaloo.

“I'll say,” agreed Rumble, delighted. “Thanks, Soarin. Thanks, Rainbow Dash. That means so much to me – to all of us.”

“Yeah,” chipped in Scootaloo softly. “Thanks, you two – thanks for everything.”

Both Soarin and Rainbow Dash smiled back; but Slate Shard, whose guilt and sorrow still hadn't diminished over the last few minutes, was too ashamed to even try. “Well...I guess you won't need me anymore,” he sighed sadly. “I'm really sorry I ruined your life the way I did, Scootaloo, and I really do hope you fare better under Rainbow Dash's care,” and he stood up to leave.

“Hang on, Dad, don't go.”

This stopped Slate Shard dead in his tracks. He may have been Scootaloo's father, but after all that had transpired the night before, the last thing he had expected was for her to start referring to him as such again.

“You don't need to distance yourself from me like this – really you don't,” pleaded Scootaloo. “Sure, my life was an absolute Tartarus after Mom's death, but I don't wanna lose contact with you altogether. No matter what you may have been in the past, you're still my Dad by the end of the day.”

“So...you're not still mad at me? After all those years of neglect I put you through?” Slate Shard couldn't believe his ears. “But I failed you – both you and your mother! I couldn't give you the happy life she would have wanted, and to cap it all, I'm about to give you away for good! How can you possibly forgive me for all that?!”

“Dad, you already said you had it pretty tough yourself,” insisted Scootaloo. “You actually did a pretty good job of looking after me, considering how little pay you got; nopony could ask for more out of you, and it was really stupid of me to expect it in the first place.”

“Scootaloo's right, Slate Shard,” Rarity pointed out. “You knew all too well that you couldn't raise her alone, so putting her up for adoption would have been the only sensible thing to do under the circumstances. I, for one, think you're very brave to go ahead with it, considering how attached you are to your daughter.”

“You really think so, Rarity?”

“I know so,” said Scootaloo fondly.

That was more than enough to convince Slate Shard that his daughter still cared about him too. Smiling warmly for the first time in years, he wrapped his forelegs around her once again and hugged her tightly, small tears trickling down his face. After that heart-wrenching outburst from last night, he had been so sure he had sealed the fate of his family forever, and although he knew putting Scootaloo up for adoption had been the right thing to do, it had broken his heart to come to that decision in the first place. Now that he understood how much she had suffered from being virtually “orphaned” for the best part of five years or so, and she herself understood why he had been unable to take as much care of her as he wanted, that proverbial coffin into which the ashes of his family life were about to go was no longer needed; instead, it had been saved from the brink of destruction to be lovingly rebuilt to its former glory, even if not to its original standard. And he had Soarin and Rainbow Dash to thank for it.

The adoption process that Rainbow Dash, Soarin and Slate Shard had to go through was long and somewhat strenuous, with all three of them having to balance their work with various interviews over the course of the week. Needless to say, the quarry foreman wasn't best pleased with the amount of leave Slate Shard had to take in order to deal with all the legalities regarding the adoption, but was strangely quiet about it for some odd reason that not even Slate Shard could put his hoof on.

As for Scootaloo, it turned out that her cold had left her rather nauseous, so her recovery took longer than even Rarity had expected. The other Cutie Mark Crusaders came to visit as often as they could, but even with their reassurance it took four days for Scootaloo's stomach to settle. True to their word, Spike and Rarity did everything in their power to nurse the ailing Pegasus filly back to full health, and within another week, Scootaloo had fully recovered from her illness and was back on her hooves once again. By then, the adoption papers had been processed and approved too, thus releasing her into Soarin and Rainbow Dash's care. Scootaloo was overjoyed when they told her later that day, and the smile never once left her face as her newly-appointed adoptive parents flew her back to her new home.

Nine days later, Scootaloo, Slate Shard, Rumble, Blue Finch and Memphis Belle were at the Canterlot Arena to see the Wonderbolt cadets' final test. Rainbow Dash enthusiastically led the charge as she and the other cadets began their stunt routine, while Soarin, Spitfire and a few of the other senior Wonderbolts kept a watchful eye on them from the judging panel, carefully noting their performance.

Slate Shard was completely awestruck by Rainbow Dash's speed and agility in particular; it was almost as if Typhoon had returned from the dead for one final Wonderbolt performance before passing onto the afterlife. He turned and watched with a hearty smile as Scootaloo hovered just a few feet above the bleachers, cheering Rainbow Dash on with joyous gusto. It had been such a long and admittedly painful time since they had done something like this together, and to see his little filly so excited warmed his heart.

As the cadets dived for their grand finale, Rainbow Dash rapidly began to pick up speed, her forelegs pointing straight ahead of her. She knew that what she was about to do wasn't part of the routine, but she was still keen to throw it in for some additional entertainment for her audience. All was hushed as she rocketed faster and faster towards the ground, flapping her wings vigorously, the air pressure forming a cone just ahead of her – and suddenly, with a loud bang, the cone exploded into a ring of multicoloured light, and a rainbow-coloured trail began to emerge behind the rainbow-maned Pegasus. The crowd gasped and clamoured in amazement.

“Holy Celestia!” exclaimed Slate Shard, goggling in disbelief. “Was that a sonic rainboom?!”

Scootaloo didn't reply. She leaped into the air again and flung her forelegs up high. “GO, RAINBOW DASH!! WOOHOO!!!” she cheered at the top of her voice. Rumble and his family joined in, and the whole crowd broke out into a Mexican wave, yelling in delight as Rainbow Dash rose into the air once again and spelt out the word “WONDERBOLTS” with the trail she was creating from her supersonic flight. She came gently into land to a chorus of cheers and whistles from the audience, many of whom threw flowers and confetti in celebration of her achievement.

“Fillies and gentlecolts,” announced Spitfire over the loudspeakers, “with the air display over, the results are: in tenth place, Thunderlane with 890 points...”

Rumble cheered loudly for his brother, and his parents embraced joyously as the rest of the crowd applauded.

“...in ninth place, Wild Fire with 902 points...”

Further applause followed this announcement, and at all the others up until second place.

“...in second place, Bulk Biceps with 955 points...”

The crowd's jubilation was interrupted by a boisterous “YEAH!!” from Bulk Biceps, causing them to break out into laughter.

“...and in first place, the first new Wonderbolt to score 1000 points in twelve years...” Spitfire paused impressively, “...Rainbow Dash!”

The entire audience went wild with cheering and applause, and it took all of Rainbow Dash's willpower to restrain herself from leaping up into the air in her joy. Even as she and the other cadets returned to the changing rooms, she could hardly believe her achievement. After two long years of hard training, her foalhood dream had finally come true – she was now officially a member of the Wonderbolts air display team.

Chapter 7: The Parting of Ways

As the newly-commissioned Wonderbolts filed out of the arena, Soarin, Spitfire, Slate Shard, Scootaloo, Blue Finch, Memphis Belle and Rumble all greeted Rainbow Dash warmly.

“That was a great show you put on, Rainbow Dash,” praised Blue Finch. “Best Wonderbolt air display I've seen in years – and by a trainee too! Imagine that!”

Rainbow Dash chuckled modestly. “Yeah, well, Thunderlane sure put in a good effort himself, you gotta admit,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, and I'm really happy for him,” agreed Rumble, “but you were really awesome out there, Dash, just like you always are.”

“Awesome?! She was way better than awesome!” objected Scootaloo ecstatically. “She was totally epic!!”

“I'll say it was, Rainbow Dash,” added Slate Shard heartily. “Never in all my life had I seen anypony pull off a sonic rainboom before. If Typhoon had been alive today, I bet she'd have been really impressed by your flying abilities.”

Spitfire nodded in agreement. “I certainly was. May not have been part of the stunt routine, but you pretty much stole the show with that rainboom of yours, Rainbow Dash,” she smiled, giving the rainbow-maned mare a pat on the back.

“Aw, thanks, Spitfire,” replied Rainbow Dash, blushing with pride. “Still, I can't take all the credit; if it hadn't been for Soarin, I'd never have made it this far.”

Soarin gave little more reply than a fond smile as he looked lovingly into the twinkling eyes of his fiancée, who returned the gaze for a few moments before leaning in and softly kissing him. Rumble sighed softly as he watched their tender moment playing out in front of them, and was surprised, but pleasantly so, when he noticed Scootaloo beaming warmly upon her adoptive parents with one hoof over her heart. In the past, she would probably have cringed at such a sight, even after having become involved with the grey Pegasus colt – and yet, at this moment, she was smiling upon it as if she had always found love and romance truly heart-warming. It was like her adoption had opened up a whole new side to her character that had been shut away in an old closet, the key to which had been lost for many, many years before Rainbow Dash and Soarin finally rediscovered it.

“Anyway,” said Spitfire, “I'd better get back to Cloudsdale – those reports aren't going to sign themselves, after all. I'll see you on Monday, Rainbow Dash, and I hope it all goes well with Scoot.”

“Oh, it will, Captain, I promise,” asserted Rainbow Dash. “So long then.”

“Yeah, see you round, Aunt Spitfire,” chimed in Scootaloo. Spitfire gave her niece a gentle hug of farewell, and took off back to the Wonderbolt base.

Blue Finch looked up at the clock. “I guess we'd better be on our way back too,” he remarked. “Our train's due out in an hour.”

With that, the six ponies made their way back to the station, casually chatting about how their lives had been going since their fiasco three weeks earlier. It turned out that Slate Shard's decision to put Scootaloo up for adoption had been a blessing in disguise; not long after, the quarry company for which he worked had found itself in serious trouble for not adhering to the government labour laws, and quarrying operations had ceased for a few days pending further investigation. By now, the original owners had been driven out of business, but the quarry had reopened under the ownership of the nearby Maenofferen Slate Company, which was working hard to improve working conditions for the quarry's employees.

“They're rebuilding the trackwork so that they can use steam locomotives instead of draft ponies,” he explained, “and not only will I be in charge of one, I'll be getting that pay-rise I had been asking for since Typhoon and I got married.”

Soarin and Rainbow Dash were delighted to hear this, but felt rather awkward about having to take Scootaloo into their care when things had just started to look up for her father. Slate Shard, on the other hoof, reminded them that it was for the best; he still had to get up early in order to prepare the engine for a hard day's work, so he still wouldn't get as much time with his daughter as he would have wanted.

The train pulled into Ponyville Central Station rather late the following evening. As the six ponies alighted from their coach, Rainbow Dash and Soarin wished Slate Shard all the best in his new job.

“Hope those new engines make it a bit easier on you, Slate Shard,” said Rainbow Dash.

“Oh, I'm sure they will,” chuckled Slate Shard. “I mean, so what if they're so labour-intensive – after having to haul trucks with my muscles alone, this'll be a cinch.”

“Well, let's hope so,” mused Soarin. “Anyway, we'll see you when we see you.”

Slate Shard nodded in reply, and turned to head home. Barely had he taken more than a few steps, however, when he heard Scootaloo calling out for him. As he turned back to her, the little orange Pegasus filly reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“So long, Dad – I love you,” she whispered.

Slate Shard smiled affectionately as he returned the hug. Even though his daughter had forgiven him, he had never expected to hear those last three words from her ever again, and to know that she still cared for him in return gladdened his heart immensely. “I love you too, Scootaloo,” he replied softly as they parted. “Take care of yourself, kid.”

“I will, Dad.” Scootaloo gave her father one final nuzzle, and ran to catch up with Soarin and Rainbow Dash. Slate Shard kept his eye on her until the last, then turned and started to plod away from the station towards home. It was rather strange, but despite not having spent so much time with his little filly, his life now felt somewhat empty and lonesome. He didn't feel anywhere near as distraught as the night she ran away, but he couldn't help wishing that there was somepony else with him at this moment – somepony with whom he could talk about his guilt and sorrow.

As if in answer to his untold plea, he heard a gentle voice just behind him; “You okay, Slate Shard?”

The orange-coated quarry-pony stopped in his tracks, but didn't bother to look up. “Yeah...I guess so, Blue Finch,” he mumbled in a somewhat incoherent voice; but even he knew that wasn't the case. A long silence ensued.

“Do you...want a bit of company getting home?” offered Blue Finch.

Slate Shard looked over his shoulder at the blue-grey Pegasus, who was standing just behind him along with the rest of his family. From the warm, friendly smiles on their faces, it quickly became clear to him that they still wanted to help him through whatever issues were currently plaguing his mind. With a small smile of his own, he simply nodded in reply.

The sun had completely disappeared beneath the horizon by the time Blue Finch, Slate Shard, Memphis Belle and Rumble reached the quarry-pony's house, giving way to a beautiful, clear moonlit night. Having spent so much time getting to know Blue Finch and his family, Slate Shard no longer felt as empty as he first thought he would when he had handed the reins of raising Scootaloo over to Rainbow Dash and Soarin – in fact, he felt a deep gratitude that, even now that his wife and their daughter had each moved to a better place in their own way, he still had other ponies around who would support him when and where necessary, and he would always be grateful for it.

“Thanks for walking me home, guys,” he said as they came to his front door. “I hope everything goes okay with you.”

“No problem, Slate Shard,” smiled Blue Finch. “That's what friends are for. By the way,” he added kindly, “if you ever need anypony to talk to about your problems, just remember that we'll all be here for you.”

Slate Shard smiled back. “I'll remember that,” he promised.

“You sure you'll be okay now that Scoot's not here?” ventured Rumble. “I mean, that adoption thing must have been real hard on you and all, so...”

“It's okay, Rumble,” soothed Slate Shard. “If I'd carried on the way I always had been since Typhoon's death, she would have been a lot worse off by the end of the day; no social skills, no proper qualifications, no real purpose in life, nothing. As much as I care for her, I had to let her go in order for her to flourish. Besides, as long as I know she's got good ponies around her, I'm sure I'll be okay – especially now that I know she's got such a smart young coltfriend.”

Rumble could only blush. “I guess so,” he agreed shyly.

“Oh, I know so,” went on Slate Shard, patting Rumble's head in a friendly manner. “From what I'd seen, you and Scootaloo make a great couple, and I'm really happy for both of you.”

Blue Finch chuckled heartily. “Ah well,” he said, “we'd better be getting home ourselves. See you later, Slate Shard.”

“Okay, Blue Finch, see you.”

Slate Shard stood just outside the front door and watched until the three Pegasi were out of sight. Once they were gone, he gazed up at the star-sprinkled night sky, remembering all the good times he had had with his family, from that very first date with Typhoon right up to Scootaloo's birth and beyond. How he wished he could have relived those memories without the bitter-sweet ending that had nearly destroyed his family forever like a nuclear bomb. But that was all in the past now; against all the odds, the bomb that had threatened to blow up his family ties had been safely disarmed, and that was all that mattered to him, however much he was going to miss his daughter.

“I'm really sorry I couldn't keep my promise to you, Typhoon,” he whispered. “You were a wonderful mother back when you were still alive, and I could never hope to be as good a parent as you would have wanted me to be.” He smiled softly, and blinked away a small tear. “But everything's okay now. Our daughter's in capable hooves, and I'm almost certain she'll grow up to become the beautiful mare you would have wanted.”

And after one final gaze up at the deep blue sky, Slate Shard opened the door and re-entered his house, still smiling wistfully. To him, it would just be another night's rest before setting off to work again early the next morning. But this time, it would be more than that; gone was all the exhausting haulage that used to be part of his job, for it was soon to give way to a far more satisfying day of driving a little narrow-gauge steam engine around the quarry, and on top of that, he would no longer be forced to work overtime in order to support anypony other than himself. For the first time in years, even though part of him felt a little lost without Scootaloo, he couldn't have been any happier.

Epilogue

On the opposite side of town to Slate Shard's house, in the beautifully sculpted cloud mansion in which Rainbow Dash had lived ever since she first moved to Ponyville, Scootaloo let out a contented sigh as the rainbow-maned mare tucked her into bed. She had only been in her care for a few days, prior to which she had only seen Rainbow Dash as a sister at best despite her hero-worship, but already she was settling in with her and Soarin so well that they had become as close to her as true parents.

Looking back over the last few weeks, she was deeply grateful to have had Slate Shard as a father despite how much he had neglected her. He hadn't turned his back on her completely, he had had no real intentions of shirking his responsibilities for her, and he hadn't merely kept her out of spite either – he had tried his best for her, and upon realising that his best wasn't good enough, he had gone out of his way to make sure she would move on to a better family and a better life, for which she would never forget him no matter what happened.

“There you go, Scootaloo,” said Rainbow Dash as she gently pulled the blanket over Scootaloo. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

“Thanks, Rainbow Dash,” smiled Scootaloo softly. “I really missed having somepony tuck me into bed like this; nopony's done that for me since I lost my Mom.” She stared wistfully out of her bedroom window, slightly downtrodden by the mention of her own mother. Rainbow Dash noticed her expression and rested a gentle hoof on her back.

“It's okay, Scootaloo,” she soothed. “You may have missed out on a heck of a lot of family time, but Soarin and I'll do our best to make up for it, I promise – and if there's anything upsetting you about your Mom or Dad, we'll be more than happy to talk about them with you.”

Scootaloo smiled warmly. “I'll remember that,” she promised. “Good night, Rainbow Dash, and thanks for taking me in.”

Returning the smile in kind, Rainbow Dash leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on the orange filly's forehead. “Good night, Scootaloo,” she whispered fondly, and after turning of the bedside lamp, she turned and walked slowly out of the room, leaving Scootaloo to drift happily away into dreamland.

As she passed into the hallway, gently closing the door behind her, she happened to glance out of the window at the moonlit night sky, from which the stars gleamed like pure diamonds on a bed of deep blue velvet. The rainbow-maned mare sat and stared into space, quietly mulling over the events of the last three weeks. It had been a real delight to finally become a Wonderbolt in her own right, but adopting Scootaloo had left her with a deep warmth in her heart, as if she and Soarin had been blessed with a daughter of their very own; and not even her acceptance into the Wonderbolts could rival that. For the very first time, she felt as though her life was complete – she was a member of Equestria's finest air display team, she had a very special somepony from said team to whom she would be married in a few months' time, but most of all, she had a family.

“Well, Typhoon, I may not have had the chance to meet you,” she murmured, “but I promise to do my very best for your daughter. I'm sure she'll never forget you.”

As the rainbow-maned mare got up and made her way back to her own bedroom for the night, the spectre of a lemon-yellow mare gazed warmly down upon the peaceful form of Scootaloo through her bedroom window from somewhere in the sky, beaming lovingly as she watched the slumbering filly's chest gently rise and fall with every breath. Many ups and downs had been faced by the family she had left behind after leaving the land of the mortals forever, but even now, she could see that the impossible crater that had been blasted in her beloved daughter's life was already being filled by the pony she looked up to the most – and not just as an idol or a sister, but as the mother that she used to have before fate extracted her spirit from her body and placed her among the stars.

“Thank you, Rainbow Dash,” she whispered softly. “I'll never forget my daughter either, and I wish you all the best with her.” She then turned her attention back to Scootaloo; “Farewell, my little pony, and stay strong; many challenges lie ahead of you, but I have faith in you to overcome them.” And with a final fond smile, she slowly faded away into the darkness.

Chapter 5: Putting Things Right

Spitfire sat in her office, staring out of the window towards Ponyville for the umpteenth time. By now, she was really starting to worry for one of the few times in her adult life; it was almost midnight, three hours past knocking-off time for the amber mare, but as yet, neither Rainbow Dash nor Soarin had even given her an update on what was going on.

Wearily turning away from the window, she gazed wistfully at a faded photograph that sat on the right-hand side of her desk. To the left of the picture was a spitting image of the Wonderbolt captain herself, while in the background stood her father, Tempest, and her mother, Harrier; but what really caught Spitfire's eye was the lemon-yellow mare with violet mane and tail standing to the far right of the picture. The mare was smiling with a fond, motherly pride, and in her hooves was an orange-coated three-year-old filly, giggling heartily as she was held up for the camera.

“You were such a good mother back when you were still alive, sis,” sighed Spitfire morosely. A small tear trickled out of her eye as she held the picture frame in one hoof. “If only you knew how much your daughter and I miss you.”

But her train of thought was disturbed by a knock at the door, as one of the Academy personnel entered holding an envelope in one wing. “Telegram for you, Captain,” he announced, placing it on the desk.

“Thank you, Corporal Nimrod,” replied Spitfire half-heartedly. “Dismissed.”

The corporal was rather surprised by Spitfire's lethargic demeanour, but kept his thoughts to himself as he saluted his superior and left the office. Spitfire heaved another deep sigh as she opened the envelope; she had enough on her mind with the concerns Soarin and Rainbow Dash had raised about her niece, but now she had some telegram to worry about too. When she opened it, however, she wasn't sure whether to be surprised, relieved or anxious.

“Well, that would at least explain why they haven't returned yet,” she mused as she scrutinised the telegram. “I sure hope everything's...oh my goodness!” she gasped the next minute, raising a hoof to her chest and letting the telegram fall from her other as her eyes began to brim with tears. But this time, it wasn't out of guilt, sorrow or despair – something about the final paragraph of the message had brought such untold joy and gratitude to her heart that she was hard-pressed to restrain herself from dancing around her office in her delight.

It took over a quarter of an hour for the amber Pegasus mare to pull herself together, but when at last she did, she knew exactly what she had to do. Pulling out a writing quill and a fresh sheet of parchment from her top drawer, she began writing out a reply to the telegram with an enthusiasm the likes of which she hadn't displayed since her teenage years.

The morning sun peeked over the horizon under Celestia's guidance. Rainbow Dash slowly opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the morning light that was softly beaming through the windows and onto the carpet of ponies that lay slumbering on some makeshift cots that Rarity, Sweetie-Belle and Spike had made for them.

“Uh...is it morning already?” the rainbow-maned mare thought aloud, gingerly rubbing her eyes as she fought off a yawn. Wearily, she turned to look at the nearby clock, wondering if Luna had merely decided to call an early end to the night; but sure enough, she noticed that it was just a few minutes past seven. Rainbow Dash let out a tired groan and flopped back onto her cot, annoyed at herself for having lost so much sleep.

Because of the stormy weather outside, she, Soarin and Slate Shard had been stuck at the Carousel Boutique along with Rumble and his family, and had to spend the night there until it had passed. Pipsqueak and Truffle Shuffle had chosen to brave the stormy weather themselves as they lived close by, but although the families of the remaining fillies and colts has been notified, only Lyra, Derpy and Berry Punch were able to collect theirs, leaving Apple Bloom, Lickety-Split and Tornado Bolt stranded too.

Soarin, who was in the cot immediately next to hers, gently stirred and turned to face her. “Morning, Dashie,” he murmured. “Sleep okay last night?”

“Not really, Soar,” mumbled Rainbow Dash groggily. “I couldn't stop worrying about Scoot – and I tell you what, I'm well exhausted.”

“Yeah, I think last night's fiasco's done a number on all of us,” mused Soarin. “Blue Finch and Memphis Belle were up half the night trying to calm Rumble down after all that, and I doubt Slate Shard slept that well either.” He noticed a small tear in his fiancée's eye and crawled across to her cot, gently pulling her into a reassuring hug. “Take it easy, Dash,” he added softly. “Everything's going to be okay – you take my word for it.”

“I know,” faltered Rainbow Dash, choking back a small sob. “I just hate it when Scootaloo does this to herself. It really tears my heart apart to see her endure such......such self-torture!” She wrapped her forelegs around Soarin and wept softly into his chest.

Soarin gave a weak but comforting smile as he ran a gentle hoof along his fiancée's mane. “Let it all out, honey,” he soothed calmly. “You're obviously really frightened for Scootaloo, I can see that, and you've every right to be; if we hadn't asked the Cutie Mark Crusaders for help......well, it could have been a different story. But that's nothing to be ashamed of – it just goes to show how much you care for her, and I'm really proud of you.”

Rainbow Dash pulled back slightly and gazed into Soarin's eyes. “Really?” she stammered.

“Of course, Dashie,” smiled Soarin. “It was one of the things I've always admired about you – you never give up on anypony no matter what.”

The cyan Pegasus mare smiled softly in return – but the spell was rather abruptly broken as they heard somepony knocking at the front door. Not long after, Rarity came downstairs clad in an ivory-coloured dressing gown with golden lining. “Who is it?”

“It's me; Derpy,” said a voice from the other side of the door. “Is Rainbow Dash still around?”

“Yes, she's in, why?”

“Because I have a telegram for her from the Wonderbolts.”

“Yeah, I heard you, Derpy,” called Rainbow Dash, gingerly getting to her hooves and trotting over to the door.

The wall-eyed grey Pegasus reached into her satchel, pulled out an envelope with her wing and placed it onto Rainbow Dash's hoof. The rainbow-maned mare then ripped it open and began to read the telegram it contained. The further she read, the more her expression changed until by the time she had finished, the concern that had previously been plastered onto her face had flaked off altogether and been replaced by a delighted grin.

“I knew it!” she cheered, punching the air jubilantly. “I knew Spitfire would agree to that suggestion of mine!”

“Glad to hear it, Dash,” smiled Derpy. “See you later – hope it all goes okay with Scootaloo.”

Rarity gazed at the telegram with interest as Derpy flew away back to the post office. “So what, pray tell, was your suggestion, Rainbow Dash?” she quizzed.

“You'll see,” chortled Rainbow Dash coyly, “but I'm sure Scootaloo's gonna want to see this too when she comes round!”

“Oh, she already has. Spike's just preparing a bowl of soup for her.”

“Ah, good! Then we'd better go and see her,” decided Rainbow Dash, and went over to Soarin; “Come on, sleepyhead, we've got a filly to go talk to.”

“Okay, Dashie, right with you,” answered Soarin, quickly reorienting himself and getting to his hooves.

“Slate Shard, you coming?”

But Slate Shard, who was sitting against the wall on the far side of the lobby, didn't seem to be looking forward to seeing his daughter again just now. “I dunno, Dash,” he replied uneasily. “What if she's still angry with me? What if she actually meant what she said last night?”

“Yeah – but what if she's taken all this time to think this all through, same as you have?” argued Rainbow Dash. “It's not as if she can stay mad at you forever, you know. C'mon – just give her a chance.”

Slate Shard paused – and sighed in defeat. “Alright then, Rainbow Dash, I'm coming,” he muttered, and reluctantly followed the three ponies upstairs to Rarity's bedroom.

Sweetie-Belle and Rumble sat on one side of Rarity's bed, morosely watching over a drowsy Scootaloo as she lay half-asleep, half-awake beneath the bedclothes. Both ponies had had a rough night after bringing the orange-coated Pegasus filly into the boutique, and were relieved to hear that she had finally come to after her chilling ordeal; Sweetie-Belle in particular had been so sure Rarity was still planning revenge on Scootaloo that she had been unable to sleep for worry, and in the end, Lickety-Split had to keep her company throughout the night.

Rumble's parents had done their best to comfort him, but such was his distress for the orange filly that nothing seemed to work. Despite her insistence that nopony else enter her room until she had begun to recover, Rarity had ultimately taken pity on him and allowed him to sleep with her. But even now that she was conscious again, his mind was still full of questions – some of which he had asked his fillyfriend before but never got the answer to, while others had never even occurred to him until now.

“I don't understand, Scoot,” he murmured after a long silence. “Why did you never tell me your father was so badly off, or how you came to lose your mother?”

Scootaloo avoided looking at him. “How could I, Rumble?” she mourned weakly. “Mom meant half the world to me; it always hurts so bad to talk about her. And my Dad......as if he ever cared for me in the first place! I'm nothing but a burden on his withers! Just another mouth he can't be bothered to feed! He never wanted anypony like me making things so tough for him – why do you think he just neglected me?!” She rolled over and buried her face in her forelegs, sobbing hard onto the soft pillows.

“Oh, Scootaloo.” Rumble climbed onto the bed and began rubbing her back soothingly. He hated seeing the orange-coated filly so hurt and upset, but he also knew that none of what she had said about her father was true. It was high time, he told himself resolutely, to try and clear it up once and for all. “Your Dad doesn't think of you as a burden. I actually got to talk to him last night, and he turned out to be a really caring guy.”

“Yeah right!” sobbed Scootaloo, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No, seriously,” insisted Rumble, “he was really fearful for you when he arrived here, and when we told him you were ill...he......well, he cried.”

That threw Scootaloo for a loop. She slowly lifted her head from her forelegs and gazed in wonderment at her coltfriend, wondering if she had heard him right.

“He feels really guilty for everything that's gone wrong with your life since your Mom died,” Rumble continued, “and he kept blaming himself for what you did to yourself – not you, and certainly nopony else – just himself. He even said he deserved to go to prison for what he's done to you. I know I'm no expert on 'bad parents', but does that actually sound like an uncaring father?”

Scootaloo blinked in disbelief. Surely she must have misheard what her coltfriend had said. “Are you...absolutely certain about this, Rumble?”

“Of course I am, Scoot,” replied the grey Pegasus. “He wasn't just...” but he was suddenly cut off by a loud sneeze from Scootaloo, which caused him to flinch slightly.

As if on cue, Sweetie-Belle reached for the box of paper tissues on the bedside table and passed one over to Rumble, who wiped Scootaloo's nose clean before holding it just in front. The orange-coated filly then blew hard into it until her nose was as clear as she could get it. “Thanks, guys,” she said weakly.

“That's okay, Scootaloo,” smiled Rumble, throwing the soiled tissue into the nearby bin. “But yeah, your Dad wasn't just throwing a fit because he thought you were being ungrateful, and neither was it all to do with the loss of your Mom – he was crying for you; for every second of sufferance you had to endure that he could have made easier for you. And I know how that feels,” he added knowingly, “because you know what I said about how distressed I feel for my cousin when we first met?”

Scootaloo nodded solemnly in reply. She could well remember how challenging it had been for Rumble to talk about his disabled Trottingham cousin that day, and it still broke her heart just thinking about it.

“Well, that's exactly what your Dad's going through at the moment,” finished Rumble gravely. “He never meant to do any of this to you, and neither did he realise he was actually doing it. He loves you, Scootaloo; you're absolutely everything to him, and anything he can do to make up for how much he's neglected you over the years, he's more than willing to do.”

By now, Scootaloo was lost in her own emotions. Ever since her mother had died, Slate Shard had seemed like nothing more than an emotionless automaton, carrying out the same routine day after day and never stopping to think about the one he should have been programmed to look after. But now Rumble was providing her with a completely new perspective – rather than the robot she had always seen in her father, the picture that had been painted by her coltfriend was one of a distraught, weary stallion whose thoughts centred solely on the daughter he had mistreated, and how insensitive he had been as to leave her to suffer alone while he slaved away at a slate quarry all day. She opened her mouth to try and question Rumble further, but such was her confusion that nothing came out – certainly not before the bedroom door opened and Rarity came into the room, levitating a tray just in front of her.

“How's the patient, Sweetie-Belle?”

“She's okay, Rarity,” answered Sweetie-Belle, still a little uneasy. “We'd just been talking about her Dad with her, and how upset he had been last night.”

“Yes, I can imagine he'd feel that way after what happened to the poor dear yesterday,” mused Rarity solemnly. “I know he would have had to find out sooner or later, but not like this. Anyway,” she added, “I've brought some carrot and lemon-grass soup for you, Scootaloo.”

The orange filly looked rather confused as she shifted herself round onto her haunches, so as to allow Rarity to rest the tray on her lap. “I don't get it, Rarity. Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because you're ill, Scootaloo,” explained Rarity, equally confused and a little hurt. “I thought a good bowl of soup would...”

“No, Rarity, that's not what I'm talking about,” interrupted Scootaloo. “I thought you were still mad at me for what I said to Spike. You could have just ignored Sweetie-Belle's plight and left me to die out there – but instead you let her bring me into the boutique and start nursing me as if I'd never done anything wrong.”

Rarity heaved a deep sigh, hanging her head slightly. “You're quite right, Scootaloo – I could easily have abandoned you to your fate,” she agreed ruefully, “but if I had, I would have lost the life of a friend, a lover and a daughter. Rumble, Sweetie-Belle and Apple Bloom would never have forgiven me as I should have done to you a year ago, and neither would your father; my whole career would be ruined, and more importantly, I would have been burdened with the guilt for the rest of my life.”

“Then why didn't you forgive me immediately after I apologised?”

“Because my fears for Spike had just...well, blinded me. Ever since that day, all I could see in you was a heartless bully when in fact what I should have seen was an empty young filly with no mother and a father with such a difficult job that he never even had the strength to look after her properly. It was extremely insensitive of me not to realise that, and I'm truly, truly sorry.”

“Same goes for me, Scootaloo.” While Rarity had been talking, Spike had overheard the conversation, and decided that it was only fair that he too came in to reconcile with the orange Pegasus filly. “I know that slap you gave me round the face kinda drove me over the edge, in a manner of speaking, but looking back over yesterday, maybe it was a bit harsh of me to act so coldly towards you for it.”

“No, Spike, I was the insensitive one,” insisted Scootaloo, tearing up slightly. “If I had only known what you and Rarity were going through, I wouldn't have snapped at you like that. I deserved to suffer...”

“No, dear, you didn't,” stated Rarity gently. “Nopony deserves to be deprived of their own family, and neither do you. Now what say we just forget the whole thing?”