Clipped

by RockWolf

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, Dark
Length: 6689

Soarin runs into an old marefriend whos not so happy to see him...

Soarin' has had his share of mares in his day, being a member of the world-famous Wonderbolts. Town by town, his way with the ladies is legendary. But when an old one-night stand comes back to haunt him, he learns the consequences of his mare-anizing the hard way…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-03-31 12:24:03 UTC

Clipped

Ya know... for some reason, I always had this feeling that Soarin' uses his fame to get whatever he wanted. He always had a cocky feel to him. So, I threw this little number together to vent. Hope you like it.

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Clipped

Soarin’ awoke with a freezing shock, a bucket of icy cold water had been tossed into his face. The bucket itself quickly followed, hitting his forehead and making a resounding “CLANG!” as it hit the floor, echoing throughout the room. For a few moments, he coughed and gasped as he caught his breath, a resonating pain in his head helping to snap him back to reality. But this pain was not from the bucket alone. He recognized it all too well. It was from the night before, the result of hard partying still pounding in his head like a hammer on an anvil. Blinking his eyes to adjust to the light of the room, he noticed a dim single light above him hanging from the ceiling. He tried to move, but found that quite impossible.

    “He... hey, guys... ?” he said out loud, his mind slowly registering the situation he was in, his vision still blurry. His Wonderbolt’s uniform was gone, though he couldn’t remember ever taking it off. All four of his legs were restrained, stretched out as far as they could go. He found his forelegs stretched out above his head and hind legs pulled down to the ground, held tight by heavy leather straps that in turn were connected to steel chains that seemed to disappear into the darkness above and below. He felt a tightness in his chest and looked down. A harness was around his chest, with another leather strap on each sides, connected to the harness by a single steel ring on both sides of his ribs. He tried to flap his wings, but found them in the same state; restrained by leather straps. However, these were set on him differently than the others.

    The straps were tight, tied tighter around the flesh of his humerus bones in both wings, uncomfortably squeezing the areas of where both wings met the body. He actually found these bindings painful, as opposed to the others that seemed to only be to keep his restrained.

    “Um.. Hello? Guys? Bolt? Spitfire? Lightening? You guys here?”

    No answer.

    “Hehehe. Come on, guys. Ha ha ha ha. The jokes on me. You got me. Come on, let me down now. Please?”

    Still no answer. Slowly, he tried to recall the events at the back of his memory together,hoping to maybe find the reason for his current predicament. Then, like a broken levy, the night before came flooding back.

    He and the rest of the Wonderbolt crew were at a local bar in yet another small town, celebrating the latest of yet another successful air show. The crowd, of course, went wild, applauding with neighs, nickers and stomping hooves as he and his team roared by at high speeds, preforming maneuver and stunts under a trail of brightly colored jet streams and fireworks. He often wondered how the stadium seating at some of their performances withstood the assault the fans would put them through. He was almost certain that one day, they’d cause a collapse.

After the show, during the usual autograph signing, he had picked out three of the more attractive fillies for a special post-show party at a local bar he and the crew had picked out earlier on the flight to the venue. They were fair, as far as small-town fillies were concerned; two earth ponies and a unicorn, all with tight hind-quarters and sleek, toned flanks. Just the way he liked them. The others either went to the bar alone or with their steady mates. But Soarin’ preferred to have a crowd. Usually of the young, easy to impress variety. Young, inexperienced mares he could easily ‘wing-wow,’ a term he came up with, and was quite proud of, describing the fillies that were completely bedazzled by his flying ability. And it usually helped if they were either earth ponies or unicorns, since neither of those types had any knowledge of flight. That made his come-ons and tall tales all the more enticing.

The evening was going swimmingly. The three mares(he had not bothered to learn the names of any one of them) were hanging all over him, feeling tipsy and glamorous as he poured shot glass after shot glass of cheap, hard liquor down their throats, making each new story that much more exciting and tantalizing. The were falling all over themselves, but most importantly, falling all over him, laughing and drifting in and out of coherent speech as he thought of the right way to go in for the kill with all three. It would only be a matter of time till all three of them were in his hotel room, eagerly performing whatever acts his alcohol-drenched imagination could conger.

    But suddenly, he felt buzzed. No, it seemed much more than buzzed. He felt drunk, very drunk. The kind of drunk he hadn’t felt in a long time. But something was wrong. This came out of nowhere, and he hadn’t been drinking that much here in anticipation for a night back at the hotel with the fillies. Something was wrong. With a quick grin, he excused himself and tried to find any one of his teammates. They were nowhere to be found, lost in the loud, over-crowded bar and jukebox music blasting and makeshift dance floor that spilled over into the gaming area. He felt dizzy, strained. Remaining upright became a chore that he had to concentrate on. He needed air, now, fast. Near the back of the bar, a red exit sign flickered with the stomping of hooves in the room, just enough for him to recognize what it stood for. He quickly made his way to the door and rushed out into the alley behind the building, taking several deep breaths to regain composure. That only made matters worse. Now his head was spinning, the cool night air hitting him like heavy cushion held over his face, making the dizzying effects of the drink worse. He took a moment and sat down on the ground between the door and a filthy trash can, shaking his head as he fought to keep his eyes open. But this fight was decided well before he could build a defense. The spinning world and tiredness soon overtook him, and he drifted off to sleep on the ground in the alley.

    “About time you woke up, stud.”

    A female voice from somewhere in the darkness snapped him back to attention. He didn’t know the voice off hoof, but imagined it was one of the fillies from the show. He quickly put on his usual suave stallion act and started to speak in his ‘sexy stallion’ voice to her.

    “Hey, baby. I guess I had a little too much party last night... Sorry about that.”

    He examined the straps and harness on his body.

    “I guess we had a pretty fun night, you and me. But I think I need a coffee or something. Think you could let me down, now?”

    “Well, no. You see, you really didn’t have THAT much to drink, especially by your standards. Last night was a pretty light session for you. See, I had to use a little aesthetic magic on you, to get you to be a bit more... compliant, you could say. That’s the only way I going to get you here, silly.”

    He could feel a little bit of tension in his stomach now. He was no longer willing to accept this as some type of sexy game played between himself and the mare. This was starting to make him very nervous, and he didn’t like it.

    “He-hey, babe. C’mon, now. Fun is fun, but I got to get back with my team, alright? I’m needed this morning for another round of practice.”

    “Well, that’s kinda the thing, lover-colt. You’re not going to make practice, because by the time I’m done, you won’t have any wings left. Surprise!”

    The words hit him like an arrow, sending cold chills down his spine. His WINGS?! What was she talking about? Before he could articulate an answer to that, several small directional lights came on in the room, illuminating his situation. The straps on his wings were outstretched and connected to two pulleys on opposite sides of the walls. Those in turn were ran through another pulley further down the wall on each side, which were both connected to a large, metal wheel. Soarin’ recognized it as the kind used to reel back a fire hose or a length of steel cable, complete with a locking mechanism to keep the cable tight and taught in place after each crank.

    Soarin’ began to feel a bead of sweat form on his brow. This was not funny anymore. Not even a little. This was starting to really scare the hell out of him.

    “See what I’m talking about, lover? I designed this especially for you.”

    The voice giggled a bit after that, and the wheel in front of him cranked three times, pulling the straps closer and pulling the bindings on his wings further away from his body. He let out a quick yell as the straps tightened around his flesh and bone, yanking in both directions.

    “See, I predict that, given the amount of resistance I might be facing from that toned, disciplined body of yours, it’s gonna take about 15 cranks to separate the bones in your wings from the ball sockets in your back, and maybe about... 20 or 22 to fully RIP those babies RIGHT OFF your body. What do you think? 20 or 22? More, or less? Wanna place a bet?”

    “What do you think you’re doing?! Are you CRAZY! GET THESE THINGS OFF OF ME RIGHT NOW!!!” he shouted, writhing against the straps, trying to pull his wings out from their bindings to no avail. He could hear the mare laughing in the dark somewhere, the sound echoing off the walls and ceiling throughout the room.

    “Now, is that any way to talk to your most gracious host, who also happens to be one of your biggest fans? Why, I’m down right offended. In fact, you get two more cranks for being snippy.”

    The machinery cranked up two more notches, causing the straps to dig deeper in the flesh of his wings. This time, the metal buckles pushed against the quills of his feathers, bending them back into his muscle, causing him to let out a loud, quick yelp from the pain.

    “Now, we’re down to just ten cranks before those suckers are dislocated. So, be a good boy, and we can keep this up all night.”

    Soarin’ began to hyperventilate. He tried to move his wings again, but stopped when another quick bolt of pain shot through his body from his bent feathers. The wings of a pegasus were full of thousands of nerve endings, for quick determinations between high and low pressure air conditions, wind velocities, wind speeds, and even temperatures. Everything needed to make them the most reliable system for flight ever utilized by any creature on Equestria. And now, those very same traits were working against him, being the most painfully sensitive areas on his whole body.

    “Ok, ok, look! You have to stop this! If you wanted me scared, congratulations, I’m really freakin’ scared right now! You win, alright?! Whatever you want! You want bits? I got plenty of bits! You could have anything you want, just let me go!! PLEASE!!!”

    “Anything I want, huh?” the female asked. “I want you to... to tell me my name.”

    “Huh? I... I don’t understand. Why?”

    “Just tell me my name. If you get it right, I’ll let you go. Simple as that. No guessing limits, no punishments for wrong guesses. Well, you’re wings are still coming off, but, not cause of that. You should be able to recognize my voice. I mean, after all, you already rutted my brains out, so you should remember me, right?”

    Soarin’s eyes shot open. He slept with this crazy mare?!

    “Is that what this is all about?! You’re doing this because you’re just some crazy ex-lover?!”

    The machine cranked once again, pulling the straps tighter. Soarin’’ could feel a few feathers snap under the skin of his wings, breaking the skin and drawing blood.

    “I AM NOT JUST SOME CRAZY EX-LOVER!!!! I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to me and my life, you egotistical, self-centered son of a bitch!!!”

    Now, the machine cranked three more times. He could feel his wings being pulled taught against the straps, starting to bend in an unnatural manner to the sides, his entire body responding in a convulsion of pain, trying to instinctively break free of it’s holdings.

    “Six cranks to go. Feeling the strain, yet, LOVER?”

    Soarin’ began to sob, his head hanging down, chin against his chest, tears falling freely to the floor. He couldn’t break free. The pain was getting worse. Some of his feathers around the base of his wings were already snapped, the blood trickling down his back. Pegasus feathers never grew back when plucked or damaged. Ponies were mammals, not birds. They didn’t molt to shed their old feathers and grow new ones. They only molted once, to get rid of their new-born feathers and that was all. The feathers they got after that would be theirs for the rest of their life. And now he knew, at least some of his precious feathers were gone forever.

    “Please... please don’t... “ he begged under his breath. “Please... don’t take my wings... not my wings... please...”

    “Oh, baby. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna take them. Tell you what; after I tear them off, you can KEEP them, as mementos of your great career with the Wonderbolts! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

    Soarin’ sobbed louder, not speaking this time. It seemed hopeless. He could do nothing to defend himself, nothing to break free. And what if he did? He doesn’t know how she got to him, doesn’t know where he is. He doesn’t even know WHO she is. She could do this again at any time. For the first in his life, he felt truly powerless.

    “Oh, don’t upset, sugar. When this is all over and I dope you up and dump on a park bench somewhere, I’ll be sure to leave your wings sitting right next to you for when you wake up, all stuffed and mounted. So then, you can take them home and put them on your mantle as a reminder of how... Hey, I just realized something! You won’t ever be able to visit Cloudsdale without your wings, now, will ya? Well, at least without a balloon ride there! HA! I wonder if the lack of wings will affect your cloud-walking abilities. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

    The voice came from closer behind him this time, seemingly only by a few feet. He tried to raise his head up and look behind him, but he couldn’t stretch his neck around at the right angle to see past his outstretched wings. Suddenly, a sharp, stinging pain rocked his body, emanating from his wings.

    “Think I’ll have my fun like this for a while. This a nice change of pace, don’t ya think?”

    A single feather floated down in front of him. HIS feather. He gasped in horror as it slowly drift to the floor. Another sting of pain. Another feather. Then another. Then another.

    “Oh, this is MUCH more fun than just tearing the whole wing off! I could do this ALL night!” the mystery mare said, an almost giddy tone to her voice as she plucked random feather out one by one.

    “Stop! Stop, PLEASE STOP!!!” he yelled, his soar wings twitching with each pluck of his irreplaceable feathers. His breathing was quick, his voice cracking as he pleaded with his captor.

    “Please... what did I do? Why.. Why are you doing this to me...? I never hurt any of the mares I was with after ANY of my shows! I never forced them to do anything they didn’t want. I would NEVER do that! What did I do to you that could possibly deserve this?” Soarin’ asked through his tears. The female stopped playing with her two new toys.

    “Oh, well, guess I owe you THAT much at least, huh? Alright. You didn’t rape me or hit me or anything like that, that’s true. But you did something much worse.”

    Soarin’s mind reeled for a moment. If he didn’t do either of those things, what could be worse?

    “You used me.” she said with a cold, dark hiss, her words barely above a whisper.

    “I was a spectator at one of the Wonderbolts air shows, just like any other of your ‘conquests.’ I watched you in the crowd, sitting there as you and the others did your little tricks, spewing brightly colored smoke as you flew. I even waited in line for an hour after the show, just to get your autograph. I was the typical fan-filly geek. I was such a naive thing, I never saw you coming. All you had to do was flash those wings and a smile and I fell for you. Heh. I remember my friends were SO jealous. We went back to your hotel room, and the rest of the night was a blur, even to this day. I remember you pouring me drink after drink, then rutting. Seems you do really have some impressive stamina. The morning after, all I found was a note.”

    Soarin’ could hear a paper ruffling behind him, then saw a note float into view a few feet in front of his face, held in place by a magical aura.

    “Thanks for the wild time. X O X O   Soarin’”

    The note on the piece of memo paper crumpled before him and was tossed magically off into the darkness. It was like so many he had wrote before to his many one night stand lovers. This mare could be ANYPONY from ANYWHERE.

    “Look, I’m... I’m sorry if you took it as something more than what it was! I just try to.. Ya know, give some of my fans a good time, is all. The last thing I wanna do is HURT anypo... oh, oh GOD!!!”.”

    The machinery clicked once again, snapping back a few more feathers and bringing his entire hanging body up an inch from the tension.

    “Oh, I experienced the FULL Soarin’ Wonderbolts Experience, honey. About three months later, I found out I was carrying your foal! Is that your definition of giving me a ‘good time?’”

    Soarin’ felt the color drain from his face. His blood ran cold. The rest of the world seemed to turn off. Slowly, he found the will to speak.

    “You... I... but, how... I’m a... ?”

    “No, you’re not, stud. I lost the foal at 7 months, right in the middle of the second trimester. It was going to be a pegasus, too. A colt.”

    Soarin’ couldn’t believe the mare. Was this some twisted trick to torture him more? Could he believe anything she said, after going through all he had already? She seemed to pause herself, silently waiting fore something. Hesitantly, he spoke.

    “How... how did you lose the foal?”

    “After my parents found out, they kicked me out of the house. I was only 15 at the time. I lied about my age when you asked me at the autograph signing, just for a chance to hang out with you and the other Wonderbolts. All I thought I was going to do was hang out, not get seduced by some mare-anizer. I even told you not to finish inside of me, but you were probably too drunk to hear me, let alone getting me too drunk to notice as you did it. I refused to name you as the father to anyone, to keep YOU out of trouble. I thought if I could just get you to hear me out and understand, that you would take me in and make everything all better. But all my letters went unanswered. Every time I tracked you down, you would already be on your way to another town or city to preform. Nopony in my family would take me in after that. And without the right medical care and all the stress, well...”

    His mind reeled. He was almost a FATHER. A random, one-night stand almost bared him a son.

    “I... I had no idea...”

    “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t, now would ya? All you care about is yourself. That’s why your wings are coming off. I can’t let you get away with this with anypony else. This is the only way, the ONLY way to save this pain from happening to some other poor mare.”

    In the dark of the strange room, Soarin’s heart broke. This really WAS all his fault. He thought back to the many mares he had been with before. Earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns; so many. Actually TOO many to count. How many more poor mares had their hearts broken by him? How many more still could be the mothers of his foals? Were there more out there who hated him so much for treating them the way he did? Hoofsteps started to slowly trod across the floor behind him. He heard a hoof hit metal, and saw the chain and straps twitch. How many clicks had it been so far? He lost count. His wings themselves were numb and already felt dead, save for the broken feathers he knew were around the base of each. Even if he could escape still, would they ever work again? Would he still be able to fly? At this point, Soarin’ had already lost the will to fly ever again.

    “Does this answer all your questions, lover? See where I’m coming from now?” the mystery mare asked, an almost jovial tone returning to her voice.

    “... yes...”

    He hung his head, and felt new tears swelling up in his closed eyes. He had never felt so ashamed. He remembered the fights his parents had. His mother crying at night. His father coming home late, drunk, the smell of perfume heavy on his fur. This eventually caused their break-up, and Soarin’ wound up hating him for it. Now, he had seen that he turned out just like him.

    “What do ya say, I turn this thing on and we finish this little game of ours?” she said. Soarin’ just hung there in silence, tears slowly running down his muzzle to the floor.

    “Any last words before you become Earth-bound, permanently?”

    “... ... ... ... do it.”

    “...”

    “...”

    “... what did you just say...?”

    “You’re right. You’re totally right. I brought this on myself.” he said, starting to sob, eyes shut tight.

    “I never thought of the consequences of what I was doing. I always just thought... I was giving my fans what they wanted. I... I didn’t know... I didn’t know how much it could mean to a young mare. I know I must have broken so many hearts with my carelessness, already! You’re right... I don’t deserve these wings of mine...”

    Silence.

    “But before you do it... I need you to know... I’m sorry... I’m so, so sorry.... and ... I forgive you. Go ahead... I'm ready...” he said, closing his eyes tightly and preparing for the worst.

    He waited. Nothing. Seconds rolled by. Than a minute. Then another. A quiet sob could be heard, building in the darkness. Suddenly, he heard a scream as a white-robed unicorn mare came flying at him from the darkness.

    “NO! NO, YOU DON’T GET TO BE SORRY!!! YOU DON’T GET TO FORGIVE ME!!! YOU BASTARD!!!!!”

    Time and time again, she attacked him, her hooves striking his face and chest, screaming with every blow. The magica aura around her keeping her suspended in front of him as she vented out all the pain, all the rage, all the hurt. He could feel the blows knocking his head back and forth, his nose, jaw and eyes hurting. He offered up no resistance at all, as if he even could. Then, slowly, the blows became further apart. Then, weaker. She was starting to cry herself. Barely, through his bloodshot, swollen eyes, he could see her breaking down in front of him, still floating in her magical aura. The attack stopped, and the unicorn mare floated there, sobbing herself. She floated closer and surprisingly, wrapped her forelegs around him, sobbing into the side of his neck. Almost without thought, Soarin’ leaned into her, nuzzling her in return. They stayed that way for what felt to Soarin’ like en eternity, before she finally broke away slowly, floating to the ground.

The mare looked back up at him, suspended there, a broken shadow of the confident, cocky stallion he once was. Blood and tears dripped from his muzzle to the floor. With a minor gesture of her horn, the locking mechanism attached to his wings released, relieving the tension and allowing his wings to fall lifelessly to his sides. Another gesture to the opposite side of the room caused another clicking sound of machinery, now lowering him from his bindings to the floor. Her hone glowed brightly, and the straps and belts and chains that had kept him at her mercy released from his limbs and flew off to the dark corners of the room. He struggled for a moment, then gained his balance. For the first time, he looked up and saw her completely.  Her hood, fallen back now, he could notice his captor’s features. She had a light blue coat, her mane mostly yellow, with a darker shade of yellow as the highlight. Her eyes, as bloodshot as his from crying, were a gorgeous shade of jade green. She was beautiful, and she was right. He didn’t recognize her from the many mares he had slept with. He slowly looked back to the ground at the shame of not knowing such a truly lovely mare.

    “... you hurt me, so... so bad....” she said, her voice cracking. He only looked st the floor, unwilling to see the pain she was in right now.

    “... I know... I’m sorry... you didn’t deserve that...”

    They stood there in silence for a while, until she raised her hoof and wiped the tears from her eyes one last time.

    “I can’t take back the hurt I gave you... I can only promise... I’m a changed stallion. From this day forward... never again...”

    She took a few steps closer, placing her hoof under his chin and lifting his gaze till it met her own. She leaned in and gave the tip of his nose a gentle kiss, smiling at him as she fought to hold back tears.

    “I... I forgive you, Soarin’... don’t let it happen again...”

    He noticed her horn glowing again, and felt himself getting weak. The world became dark and spun around him, his eyes feeling as heavy and sleepy as they did last night at the bar. He felt his forelegs slowly give out, sending him to the floor as he drifted off to a deep, dreamless sleep.

= = =

    Soarin’ awoke slowly, just before dawn. The bench in the park was hard, and his side hurt from the cold wood in the pre-dawn chill. Slowly he sat up, wincing from the pain in his wings. He placed a hoof on the seat next to him for balance and felt something; his Wonderbolts uniform, folded and clean, and the saddle bag he had been wearing at the bar. He stood up off the bench and tried to bring his wings to his sides, only to cringe from the pain again. With that impossible at the moment, he decided to just let them hang down. No matter, he wasn’t out to impress anypony right now. He placed the uniform in the saddle bag and walked out of the park. Looking around, he noticed the hotel he was staying at, just down the street. He stumbled there, his wings hanging low enough to drag on the ground the entire time.

    There was nopony in the lobby as he entered and took to the stairs, slowly climbing to his room. He entered with the key from his bag and locked the door behind him. In the dim light of the hotel room, he emptied out every bottle in the mini-bar. After that, he called room service and had them bring up several more bottles of booze, which he finished during a hot bath to soak his wings.

    He woke up in the morning in the cold water of the tub, having fallen asleep in there when it was still hot. The rest of the morning was spent plucking out the broken feathers around the base of his wings with his teeth, sobbing to himself at the removal of each broken feather, knowing it would never grow back. It was of little consolation that his wings were both just fine, save for a few missing secondary feathers that he wouldn’t miss anyway, let alone anypony else ever notice were gone. When it was time to go, he chose to go back to Canterlot via balloon rather than fly with the rest of his team, taking three days longer that way, with a few stops between. Once back, he had notified the rest of the Wonderbolts to let his understudy take his place for the rest of the tour. He would not be joining them, due to a ‘personal issue.’

    His wings did eventually gain all their feeling back, and he flew again. Slow at first, around his home in Canterlot, around the neighborhood. He only practiced in the very early morning hours or late afternoon, near sunset, mostly to avoid drawing anymore fans or admirers. The mare who had held him captive, still haunted his dreams, on occasion. In his mind, she would always be somewhere off in the distance; across a crowded marketplace, a face in a crowd at a show, a shadow on the wall. He would never forget that night, the night he had to take a good, long look at his life. The night he almost lost it all due to his carelessness. Eventually, things would return to normal for Soarin’, his schedule with the Wonderbolts back on track for touring and training. However, there was one more notable matter he had to attend to. If he couldn’t make up his past sins to all the mares who he deceived and used, he could at least make it up to one.

= = =

    Soarin’ glided high above the clouds, watching the weather ponies pushing and pulling black, gray and white puffs of air and water vapor across the sky. He was looking for one weather pony in particular, and according to their supervisor(who he bribed with an autograph, feeling it was OK in this case), the work order called for her to be in this sector right about now. A blue blur with a rainbow tail shot across the sky, and Soarin’ knew he found his mare. In the distance, he heard a loud whistle sound off twice, signaling the end of the work day for the weather company’s first shift crew. Quickly, he flew down to intercept her before she left for the day.

     As Rainbow Dash finished pushing the cloud into place, she pumped her wings and shot upward, turning to fly back to base to clock out. As she leveled out, a large, stallion-sized blur cut her off, causing her to stop in mid air, hovering. “HEY! Watch it, ya big- Soarin’?! Hey, what are YOU doing here, big guy?” At first she didn’t recognize him without his Wonderbolts uniform, but she quickly remembered his face from the time they had spent together. Her mood automatically changed after that, turning softer and almost like so many of the other fan fillies he new before.

    “What brings you all the way out to Ponyville? Come to spend some ‘quality time’ with your biggest fan, again?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He winced at what she was implying. Apparently, he still had a lot of time to go before his reputation was changed for the better amongst his female fans.

    “Not really quality time, no. But... Rainbow Dash, do you have a few minutes? I kinda wanna talk to you about something important, if I can.” He said nervously, rubbing a hoof against his foreleg, not wanting to waste any time on something he already knew was going to be hard to put out. Dash looked confused. This wasn’t the usually care-free, fun, suave pegasus she knew from her last encounters with the Wonderbolts.

    “Yeah, sure Soarin’. What do ya need?” she asked, hovering closer to him. He reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a Wonderbolts application, with her name at the top and a letter of recommendation, hoof-written and signed by him. Dash looked at it, confused.

    “Is that my application to the Wonderbolts from like, 3 months ago? Why do you still have it?” she asked, suddenly feeling a bit hurt.

    “No, Dash. This is a new one. That application you gave me for an audition was thrown out the minute we parted ways that day. I never had any intention of turning it in. This is a new one, but you need to fill out the rest of the personal information. I even wrote this recommendation to improve your chances. You just need to...” he was cut off by a hard shove against his chest, making him lose some altitude for a moment.

    “You jerk! You told me you’d turn that in 3 months ago! You PROMISED me that, when we were laying in bed after we... after...” She clenched her eyes shut tight. She could feel tears starting to form as the anger and betrayal built up inside her. She fought them back, not wanting to give Soarin’ the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Turning her gaze once again towards him, she was stunned to see tears flowing freely down his face, his own gaze focused towards the ground.

    “I know I did, Rainbow. But at the time, I didn’t care. I only cared about myself! I didn’t care about hurting you, about lying to you! But I’ve changed now! I can never let my own selfishness hurt another mare again!” Dash stared as he started to sniffle. He made no attempt to hide it or defend himself. Wiping the tears from her own eyes, Dash leaned in a little closer.

    “‘Hurt another mare, AGAIN?’ Soarin’... are you alright?” she asked, moving close to him, placing her hooves on his shoulders to comfort him. He leaned into her and brought a foreleg around her in an embrace.

    “No, Dash... I’m not alright...” He broke the embrace and led Rainbow Dash higher to a small cloud. It was time he told somepony what he had been through.

= = =

    An hour later, Soarin’ had explained everything. The mystery mare, being held captive, the whole story. He still felt tears build up as he recounted certain parts, but held them back. Rainbow Dash, however, looked on in horror, her hooves over her mouth and eyes wide as he recalled the entire ordeal.

    “I’m sorry I used you like that, Dash. You’re an amazing young mare, and I had no right to do that to you. I hope you can forgive me someday.” he said, his eyes staring at his hooves on his lap, unable to look at her. She scooted closer and placed her hoof on his.

    “Did you tell any other ponies about this? The Royal Guards or anything?” she asked. He only shook his head.

    “I think I actually needed something like that to happen. Otherwise, I’d still be taking advantage of mares any chance I could get.” He sighed, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders for the first time since the event. Dash scooted closer and wrapped a foreleg around his shoulders. He leaned into the embrace, still feeling a bit horrible.

    “It’s alright, Soarin’. I forgive you. I just can’t believe all that happened to you. What are you going to do now?” she asked, rubbing his shoulder.

    “I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever fully forgive myself. I mean, who I am now just hates who I’ve been. I’ve been working my regular schedule, but I barely feel like getting up in the mornings, anymore.”

    Rainbow Dash broke away from the embrace and sat up next to him on her haunches. She extended her hoof out and grinned.

    “Hello, my name is Rainbow Dash. What’s yours?”

    Soarin’ just stared in confusion.

    “Rainbow, what are you doing?”

    “Introducing myself. You say you’re a new stallion? Alright, I understand that. But you also hate yourself for how you’ve been living, right? Well, I think you need to be made to understand something. I think you need to see somepony forgive you in full before you can forgive yourself. So here I am, ready to forgive the old Soarin’ and give the new and improved Soarin’ a fair shot. So, What do ya say, big guy? I’ll give you another chance if you’re willing to give yourself one.”

    Soarin’ stared at her hoof, then looked back up to her. She smiled warmly at him, fluttering her rose-colored eyes. He could feel a knot in his chest loosen, the burden he had been carrying since that night become a little lighter. Slowly, he reached his hoof to hers and stood up, giving it a gentle shake.

    “Pleased to meet you. I’m Soarin’.” he said with a soft grin. She shook back and stepped toward him, giving him a tight hug around the neck with her forelegs. He reached up with his one leg and hugged back.

    “Why don’t I treat the new and improved Soarin’ to a fresh apple pie from Sweet Apple Acers?”

    “Why don’t I treat YOU to an apple pie and some sarsaparilla?”

    “Ooh, even better. I think you should meet my friends in town, too. They’d love ya, big guy. What do ya say?”

    Soarin’ nodded, spreading his wings and stepping off the cloud. Rainbow Dash jumped off and dove forward, leading him to Ponyville, and his second change.

= = =

    In a dark bedroom, a magic viewing mirror flickered and died. The image of two pegasi flying off in the distance faded, and the mirror once again showed the jade eyes of the unicorn mare holding it. Silently, she got up from her desk and walked over to a trash can in the corner of the room. She dropped it in, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the chamber. She walked to the door, opening it with her magic and walked through, looking once more at the trash can with the broken mirror.

    “Looks like he’s finally on his way.” she thought. She turned and walked away from the room, closing the door and leaving the bedroom in silence and darkness once more.