Chapter 1
The little filly's eyes stung with tears and she sniffed bitterly. Stupid Fillydelphia! Cloudsdale should have hosted the games this year. But they didn't get to, they never did. This year it was Fillydelphia. Last year it was Ponyville, the year before that it was Trottingham, and even before that was Manehatten. Rainbow Dash couldn't remember Cloudsdale ever hosting the Equestria Games.
Dashie mine, don't you cry.
Dashie mine, dry your eyes.
Her father, Spectrum Streak, had told her over and over that it would be impractical. Unicorns and Earth Ponies wouldn't be able to stay in Cloudsdale. When she was younger, Rainbow had been bitter at the other kinds of ponies because of that, blaming them for Cloudsale never hosting the games. It got to the point where she started calling them unkind names and making unfair assumptions.
Rest your head close to my heart,
Never to part, Dashie of mine.
One day at school, she had announced her prejudice to the class when she used one of these names to describe the Earth Ponies below. Needless to say, her father had been furious with her. She couldn't remember how long she'd been grounded, she was given so many lectures that they started to run together, and she was labeled a bigot for the rest of that year. After that, the only one of her classmates who would have anything to do with her was a tenderhearted filly named Fluttershy. They were still the best of friends today.
Little one, when you fly,
Don't you mind, don't be shy.
Fluttershy was so sweet. Sometimes, she reminded Rainbow of her mother.
Let those wings flutter and glide,
Never to fall, Dashie of mine.
Rainbow couldn't very well remember her mother, she had been so young. But she remembered that she was as white as snow, with a tri-colored mane of red, orange and yellow, and lovely blue eyes. The one thing Rainbow remembered best about her mother was her voice. It was the kind of voice that could melt away layers of ice from a frozen heart. Sometimes, Rainbow wondered in earnest if that's why her name had been Winter Dawn.
If they saw how you could soar,
'Rainbow Crash', you'd be no more.
When she was small, Winter would always sing a special song just for Rainbow every night. She would cocoon the filly in her arms and wings, and Rainbow would feel so safe and loved. Maybe that was why the first thing she remembered was her mother's angelic voice. Spectrum had picked it up. Now-a-days, it was less of a lullaby and more comforting.
All those same colts that scold you,
What they'd give to just fly half like you.
Even now, years later, Spectrum rarely spoke of her. His eyes took on a saddened look when he thought of her. He must have really loved her. Sometimes, Rainbow blamed herself, but whenever she voiced such thoughts, Spectrum would do anything from stroking her mane lovingly to yelling angrily at her that nothing was her fault and that she should never think such things.
From your nose down to your tail,
You're made to fly, made to sail.
The problem was that after Rainbow Dash was born, Winter Dawn started getting very sick. For a few years, she was perfectly fine to live with her husband and their daughter, and the three of them were blissfully happy. But soon she started going to the hospital. Not very often at first, but soon the visits became frequent and eventually over-night. Finally, it was more that they were visiting Winter than Winter was visiting the hospital.
And you're just so precious to me,
Fast as can be, Dashie of mine.
Once, Dash spied on a conversation her parents were having one night. The doctor said that having their filly somehow weakened something called an immune system. There was more, but Rainbow didn't hear; she had ran back to her room and cried herself to sleep. Her mother was sick because of her. It was her fault.
All those same colts that scold you,
What they'd give to just fly half like you.
Only days later, her father had frantically woken her up and told her to come with him. She was going to stay with Fluttershy and her parents for a few days. Those few days turned into nearly two months. One night, the girls spied on their fathers, who were arguing. Fluttershy's mother looked sympathetic and sweet, and her father was furious.
From your nose down to your tail,
You're made to fly, made to sail.
Rainbow Dash took a few moments to recognize the other stallion as her father. He was thin, bags under his red, tiered-looking eyes his rainbow mane in scruffs. He looked broken. Fluttershy's father was practically snarling that he was sorry for Spectrum's loss, but he still had a daughter who he had to take care of. He couldn't just leave her. They had gone home in silence that very night.
And you're just so precious to me,
Fast as can be, Dashie of mine.
It would be a while before Rainbow Dash would understand why her mother wasn't there anymore, and was not coming back. It soon dawned on the filly that she had lost both of her parents. Spectrum may have physically taken her back, but he was lost in the thralls of some dark world of sorrow and grief. It was only a few years ago that his friends forced him into therapy, and he was getting better. He played with her, listened to her, and loved her. Still, she loved him back, but even now she couldn't bring herself to fully trust him. Not after he'd essentially abandoned her for so long.
Dashie of mine.
“Rainbow?” Rainbow looked up. She hadn't realized she'd started sobbing. Spectrum was standing in her doorway. “Fluttershy came by. She wanted to know if you wanted to get some ice cream tomorrow.” Rainbow only shook her head. She didn't want to hear the cry that she was sure would show up in her voice. Spectrum smiled sympathetically, lay down next to her and wrapped his tail around her. As he always did when he did this, he began singing her song.
Dashie of mine.
Spectrum looked down to his daughter and saw that she was asleep. He might not have had a special bond with her as much as his beautiful Winter Dawn had, but she would always respond to that song. It was sort of his fail-safe with her. Spectrum sometimes felt that Rainbow had never fully forgiven him for basically abandoning her in such a frightening time, but these small, sweet moments they could have more than made up for that.
Spectrum tucked her in and looked at her for a moment. She looked like her mother when she slept, she had that same special smile. He gently kissed her forehead, turned out the lights and and intended to tiptoe out of the room. He was just closing the door when Rainbow stirred, peeked open her eyes and looked at him. She smiled sleepily.
“Good night, Dad. I love you.”
Spectrum's heart felt light with joy. Rainbow hadn't told him she loved him in so long. “I love you, too, Dashie. Good night.”
Dashie of mine.
