The Long Seven Months

by BlndDog

Rating: everyone
Tags: Scootaloo, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 5867

Scootaloo's adventures at the Canterlot Orphanage

Seven months.

Then her father would return from his job and take her back to Cloudsdale.

To six year old Scootaloo it certainly seemed like a good deal; the Canterlot Orphanage had great food, warm rooms and lots of kids to play with. Sure, the mysterious director of the orphanage was rather big and funny-looking, but she was nice. And the cloaked ponies who stood guard at the gates every night were rather unnerving, but they did the kids no harm. Besides, Canterlot was a great city full of opportunities.

Sequel to "Be Right Back", and set in the same universe as my wildly popular, epic-length masterpiece Of The Last Millennium.

Published 2014-09-21 04:10:03 UTC
Last updated 2014-11-05 04:42:20 UTC

A Cold Summer Day

Chapter 1:

Scootaloo woke up with a splitting headache. The heavy blanket on her back was soaking wet.

Perhaps it had rained.

She scanned her surroundings with aching eyes, hoping to catch the glimmer of a street lamp. Perhaps she was in a dumpster; her nose was too congested to smell anything.

Something moved above her; sluggish, and much too noisy to be a cat.

“Daddy?”

Just like that the silence was shattered. Scootaloo felt a breeze across her nose as the thing overhead dropped down to her level. It landed lightly, and she saw a pair of green eyes before her face.

Something much bigger was moving too. It took all her strength to pull the blanket over her head and draw the edges beneath her.

There came the sound of a match being struck, followed by approaching hooves. They didn’t sound like her father’s.

“Scootaloo, are you alright?”

The mare’s gentle voice calmed her even as her fevered mind struggled to find for it a face and name.

“Do you know where you are?”

There was a gentle tug on the blanket, and Scootaloo let go. The cloaked mare pulled it back just enough to reveal Scootaloo’s face.

She was a young-looking unicorn, tall and muscled like a brick hauler. Her muzzle was cream, the rest of her face a light brown, and her ears chocolate; taken together she looked like a street performer in a clown mask. Two brown patches above her nose gave the impression of a moustache. With her dark blue cloak swirling around her ankles she seemed always to be hovering just above the floor. Now she reached out with a two-hued foreleg and placed her hoof on Scootaloo’s forehead.

“This is the Canterlot Orphanage,” Gari explained with a gentle smile. “Your father dropped you off yesterday morning. Do you remember?”

Scootaloo grimaced. Sweat was dripping from her short, unkempt mane, but her head felt like it was encased in ice. Nodding once made her nauseous, and for a moment she tasted the tomato sauce from dinner. She began to tear up.

“Come on, Scootaloo,” said the colt with the green eyes that barely peeped over the edge of her bed.

He reached out with one gigantic hoof and tapped her shoulder, inadvertently disturbing her overstrained innards.

Gari set down the bucket just in time.

“Here,” she said as Scootaloo lie panting with her face hanging over the side of her mattress. She propped her up in bed and gave her a sippy cup of cold water.

Scootaloo drank greedily, but the small mouth of the cup forced her to slow down. Gari waited for her to finish, then wiped her face with a warm towel. Then she set her down on the pillow and tucked her in again.

“You are sick, Scootaloo,” Gari said. “I am here to take care of you. I’ll get you a fleece sheet so you’re not wet for the rest of the night. I’ll be outside for if you need anything. This is Morning Rain, if you don’t remember.”

The off-white colt, who was now backed against the wall, waved shyly in her direction. Scootaloo could not decide if he looked strange because of his hooves, or his equally massive wings.

“You’re going to get better,” he said softly before hopping back up to his bunk.

Gari pulled off the damp blanket and added a layer of dry fleece. The candle on the nightstand was momentarily engulfed in a golden aura, and its flame faded without a flicker.

Scootaloo quickly sank into a deep, painless sleep.

It was past noon when Scootaloo woke up again. She felt like her rib cage was split wide open, and her nose was full of pebbles.

The room in which she found herself was simple and cozy. On the walls were several crayon pictures, and there were a few books on the desk. Muffled voices came through the closed door. Scootaloo tried to get up, but was immediately incapacitated by a splitting headache.

She waited for ten minutes before the door swung open and Gari stepped in with a tray balanced on her back.

“It’s good to see you awake, Scootaloo,” she said with a warm smile. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Naw,” Scootaloo murmured, pressing her head into the pillow.

“I have someone with me this morning,” Gari continued. “He is a doctor. He is here to do a checkup. Do you understand?”

Scootaloo snorted loudly and drove her face into the pillow.

“I think you’ll like him,” Gari said. “In any case, he needs to see you if you are to live here. And I think you’ll like him.” She turned to the door. “Come in, Greg.”

Scootaloo’s eyes went wide when what looked to be a massive eagle stepped into the doorway. Then he turned, and she saw the rest of his body. The feathers ended at his shoulder, replaced with a tan coat. His tail was a slender rod except for a brown tuft at the tip, and his fleshy feet were those of a lion.

“You’re a griffin!” Scootaloo exclaimed, sitting up despite her uncooperative body.

“That I am,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I hope that is not a problem.”

“My dad told me so much about griffins!” Scootaloo said. “I never thought I’d see one in real life. I thought you all worked on the railroad!”

“Many griffins do,” Greg said as he unpacked his equipment on the desk. “I was raised here in Canterlot, however. I have been a physician for many years. You are in good hands.”

“What’s a hand?”

“I like you,” Greg said. “You actually listen. This is a hand.”

He raised a foreleg and wriggled his four digits in front of his face. It looked in every way like a bird’s foot, and Scootaloo could not help but find the display a little unsettling.

“Griffins don’t have hooves,” he said. “Now, I know you’re not feeling well, so I will make this quick.”

Scootaloo was kept wrapped in fleece for most of the checkup, and only left the comfort of her bed to be weighed. It was early summer, yet the air felt cold. Greg answered many questions about griffins, and some of the answers were even stranger than Scootaloo had imagined. Gari gave Scootaloo fleece pajamas before returning her to the bed, and Scootaloo immediately put up the hood.

“It’s not too bad,” Greg concluded. “Not the flu, thankfully. Eat well, stay warm and get lots of sleep. Gari, are you sure Rain won’t be a problem?”

“I can move him if he makes any trouble,” Gari said. “This is his room, though. For now I trust him.”

“I trust you,” he said from the door. “I’ll be back in a week for shots.”

Scootaloo whimpered at that notion, but her anxiety was quickly forgotten when Gari brought over the tray.

Breakfast consisted of oatmeal and fruit. Scootaloo was a little disappointed at the small portion, but there was no denying she was comfortably full in the end.

Scootaloo spent what was left of the day in bed, and was asleep for half of that time. Gari checked on her regularly; dinner was served along with a spoonful of amber syrup that numbed her throat. Her room was high up, so she could not see the courtyard through the window from her bed. She could hear the sound of other kids playing, and much as she wanted to join them, Scootaloo knew that she couldn’t; she barely had the strength to walk down the hall to the bathroom.

Gari was careful to keep the other children out of the room, but that did not stop Shining Dawn from sliding a card made of red construction paper under the door. It was full of signatures and messages, and despite not being able to read Scootaloo spent twenty minutes looking over the gift.

The evening was getting dark when Morning Rain burst into the room and slammed the door behind him. Heavy knocking persisted for a good minute; it sounded like somepony was trying to buck down the door.

“You lose!” Rain yelled breathlessly. “I’m keeping the button!”

The door shuddered one last time before the pony outside retreated in defeat.

He placed something small on the desk, then unbuckled the two belts around his midsection and let his wings fall limp to the floor. Then he looked at Scootaloo.

“How are you?” He finally asked.

“Not great,” Scootaloo said. “Feels like my head can explode.”

“I hope it doesn’t,” Rain said. “Hey, look what I found at the gate today.”

With his teeth he picked up the trinket from the desk and deposited it on the bed in front of Scootaloo. It was a rather large circular button, the kind used to fasten cloaks. It was gold on the front and back, even inside the little hole where the thread would go. Its face was gently convex, inlaid with tiny, white gems that sparkled even when Scootaloo shaded them with her hoof. A polished silver crescent stood out from the gold.

“It’s real pretty,” Scootaloo said.

“Sure is,” Rain said. “Harvest Moon really likes it, but I wouldn’t give it to her. She’s just going to put it in a box with all her other buttons. Do you want it? I bet if we brought it to Gari she could put it on your winter cloak.”

“I don’t have a winter cloak,” Scootaloo said.

“Not yet,” Rain said. “You’ll get one. Everypony gets one.”

“Really?” Scootaloo said. For a second her head stopped hurting. “You’ll let me use it?”

“Yeah,” Rain said with a shy smile.

They were interrupted by the door. Gari glided into the room, her swirling cloak making her seem even bigger than usual. Morning Rain backed into the bedframe. Scootaloo shuffled closer to the wall; she didn’t know why. Gari didn’t seem angry.

“Ah,” Gari said with a sigh of relief. “There it is.”

The button in Scootaloo’s lap rose into the air in a pale yellow aura and drifted to an inch in front of Gari’s face. She seemed to examine it intently for a second before sweeping it beneath her cloak.

“Thank you, Morning Rain,” she said with a reassuring smile. “This button belongs to one of the guardsponies. He reported it missing last night. I hope you are not too disappointed?”

Neither of the children could think of an answer. Certainly they did not expect to have their new toy taken away so soon.

“I found it,” Rain said blankly. “I… I thought we could keep stuff like that.”

“Normally you can,” Gari said. “However, this is a very special button, and quite valuable. Don’t worry, Rain. You’re not in trouble.”

Rain relaxed considerably, but he was a bit on edge for the rest of the night. Even after Gari left he seemed restless, and Scootaloo woke up twice that night to see her roommate reared up on the windowsill peering into the courtyard.

Big Talk for a Little Boy

Chapter 2:

Scootaloo couldn’t help fiddling with the ruby pendant at her throat. It was light and cool on her skin, but she was afraid that it would get caught on something and strangle her.

“Down that way is the second floor kitchen,” Silver Bell said at the landing. “Don’t steal from it.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. Silver Bell was an older girl who had spent eight years at the Canterlot Orphanage; a young mare really. She was tall, but not as tall as Gari, nor as brawny. She studied pediatrics in Vanhoover, so the story went, and everypony though she had left for good until she showed up at the gate on Hearths Warming Eve five years ago. Why she returned to the Orphanage Scootaloo did not know, but clearly she intended to stay forever. She usually took care of the foals, a fact which added to Scootaloo’s general discomfort.

Seeing the sour look on the filly’s face, Silver Bell lowered her voice.

“If you’re feeling adventurous,” she said, “you can jiggle the lock open from the outside.”

“I’m not a thief,” Scootaloo grumbled.

The top five floors of the orphanage consisted mainly of rooms for the six hundred children and their caretakers. On the roof were several massive greenhouses, only one of which was in use. Even though Silver Bell had watched Scootaloo eat a big lunch she did not risk letting her into the greenhouse.

The halls were spacious and well-lit, and mostly empty at this time of day. Scootaloo would have given anything to join the game of tag that she knew was going on outside.

The stairwell opened into a big playroom. All the windows and doors were thrown open for the dozen or so kids who were not outside for whatever reason.

“Almost every part of the first floor is open to you at all times,” Silver Bell said. “That green door over there goes to the toy room. Take what you need, take good care of it, and return it when you’re done. The toys here belong to everypony. You are borrowing anything that you take.”

She led Scootaloo through the gigantic dining room into a large, dusty workshop full of mannequins. There was a disproportionate number of small ones, and Scootaloo’s eyes darted around the room. It seemed to her that the figures were moving when she looked away.

“Don’t be scared,” Silver Bell said gently. “We’re not staying long.”

Her horn glowed white, and Scootaloo let out a small yelp as something dark and flowing glided out from among the mannequins. It settled on her back; she stuck out her wings trying to keep it off her skin.

“Scootaloo, it’s alright,” Silver Bell said. “Here, have a look.”

Scootaloo opened her eyes. Silver Bell had brought over a tall mirror.

Her cloak was dark blue, with a big golden swirl on either side. Dangling on her left side was a big brass button with raised crescent moon in the centre. She adjusted the three-layered collar like it was made of tissue paper, and stared into the mirror with her mouth half open.

Is that what I look like?

Her short mane was clean and brushed, and there was glossy new growth in her bright orange coat, but that was the end of the good things. The tailored cloak seemed too fine for her slim form. Her face, still a little gaunt, looked comically small propped atop her bony neck. Her shoulders could almost fit through the collar, and pulling in the drawstrings made her look like a clown.

“I think you look lovely,” Silver Bell said when Scootaloo pulled the hood over her eyes. “You’ll grow into it. That cloak is yours to keep. Take good care of it.

“Now, one last thing. That necklace you’re wearing marks you as a child from this orphanage. Wear it when you go out, and please don’t lose it. That way everypony will know who you are, and they'll know that you’re trustworthy. If you get in trouble, they will know who to call.”

“Can I go now?” Scootaloo asked, turning away from the mirror and shuffling out of the cloak.

“Fine,” Silver Bell said, and removed Scootaloo's necklace.

Scootaloo ran into the play room before the mare could change her mind. She hated the feeling of levitation spells. Though the caretakers used magic sparingly, the fact that most of them were unicorns still made her nervous.

“Scootaloo!” Morning Rain called from the tall double doors that opened into the courtyard.

More children appeared in the doorway as Scootaloo approached. A lanky blue pegasus colt ran to her with his wings spread wide, knocking her backwards and trapping her in a crushing hug.

“Hey, easy there,” a throaty voice said. “You might hurt her!”

The owner of the voice, a yellow earth pony filly, ran to Scootaloo’s aid. Her freckles were as red as her braided mane. Following close behind was a square-shouldered unicorn colt.

Marigold grabbed one of the blue colt’s front hooves, and Shining Dawn grabbed another. Together they pulled Swift Fog off of Scootaloo. He staggered on his hind legs before falling backwards.

“S… sorry,” he said, forming his words awkwardly as if his tongue was a foot too long. “I’m… happy… to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Foggy,” Scootaloo gasped as Marigold helped her sit up.

“I… th… thought you were…” tears welled up in his golden eyes, and he stopped talking with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“Hey, who said you could cry?” Shining Dawn said, giving his friend a hard bump on the shoulder.

Swift Fog threw his head back and screamed. Everypony stopped what they were doing. Two caretakers rushed over from the low wall that marked the perimeter of the courtyard.

“Is he hurt?” Asked the stocky grey unicorn while the pegasus cleared the crowd.

“I don’t think so,” Marigold said quickly. “He got too excited when he saw Scootaloo. It’s not our fault, Fairybell.”

“Okay,” said the caretaker with a sympathetic smile. “I believe you, dear. We’ll take care of it from here.” She looked over at Scootaloo, and her smile grew wider. “Well look at you! Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said even as Swift Fog continued to sob and gurgle.

“That’s great,” Fairybell said. “I’ll see you around then.”

With that she turned her full attention to the crying colt, and what remained of the small group stalked away feeling more shaken than any of them had anticipated. Marigold nibbled on the end of her red braid.

“Dawn, you know you shouldn’t have done that!” She scolded as they paced along the west wall of the orphanage.

“I thought he was happy,” Shining Dawn said. His golden mane was standing on end, and his earth red face glistened with sweat.

A group of kids were playing kickball in the corner, and after some pushing and shoving Marigold got four spots in the next game.

“Losers get Bucket Hooves,” announced an older earth pony.

“Don’t call me that, Harvey!” Rain yelled.

He stormed up to the other boy with his teeth bared. Even with his neck stretched out as far as it would go Rain had to look up.

“I wouldn’t say it if it isn’t true,” said Harvey dismissively. Turning around, he sprang away with an exaggerated buck that struck Morning Rain square in the chin.

“Hey! Don’t walk away!” Rain called, even though he sat massaging his jaw with tears in his eyes. “Harvey! I’m not done with you, you hear me? Come back and fight!”

“Give it a rest,” Shining Dawn said after quickly examining Rain. “You know, that attitude is why nopony likes you.”

“That’s not true!” Rain snapped. “He kicked me! I have a right to fight him!”

“He’s three times your age and three times your size,” Dawn said evenly. “He’s not fighting you because he’ll get in trouble for it. He’s smarter than you.”

“That straw-for-brains earth pony is not smarter than me!” Rain yelled.

The ball flew over the catcher’s head, and nopony went after it.

Harvey turned his head, a thin smile on his lips.

“Hey Harvey,” Dawn said, with less confidence than before. “Don’t take that to heart, okay? Rain didn’t mean that.”

“Yes I did!”

Dawn stomped on his shin to silence the younger boy.

“You know what, he’s right.” Harvey was within an inch of Shining Dawn. They were closer in age, but far from equal.

“Dawn, get out of the way!” Morning Rain yelled.

“You heard him,” Harvey sneered. “This is between him and me.”

“I’m telling Gari,” Dawn said. “Harvey, don’t do this.”

“Come and get me, you big dumb scarecrow!”

Harvey charged right through Shining Dawn, giving the unicorn colt a big bruise on his right side that would last for the next two weeks.

Morning Rain jumped to his feet and reared up to throw a punch, only to tumble five feet across concrete and skid on his back for another five.

Scootaloo blinked and shook her head. It was Marigold who snapped her out of her stupor. The older girl was already halfway to the fight. By now the caretakers patrolling the courtyard had taken notice. Scootaloo didn’t remember standing up, only watching Harvey’s back drifting closer in her vision.

Marigold grabbed Harvey’s hind legs and pulled. He fell forwards onto Morning Rain, and Scootaloo landed on top of him. She grabbed him around the neck. That was as far as she got before the big colt regained his footing.

All the mental preparation in the world would not have readied her for Harvey’s sheer strength. Every time he kicked Scootaloo found herself in a headstand. She squeezed with all her strength, but it was like trying to choke a statue. He was slick with sweat; Scootaloo felt her hooves slip a little every time he moved.

In the end Harvey decided to ignore the filly on his back. He reared up to stomp on Morning Rain once more.

Shining Dawn slid beneath Harvey, grabbing Morning Rain with his front hooves. His horn was glowing bright white even before he stopped moving. Holding the young colt against his chest protectively, he squeezed his eyes shut.

The blast left Scootaloo’s ears ringing. She flew off Harvey’s back. Her wings buzzed by instinct, stabilizing her fall. She knew it wold be a hard landing long before her hooves hit the ground.

Run.

She stumbled a few steps before regaining her balance, without stopping to reorient herself. She managed to go three steps before Harvey crashed down on top on her.

“That’s enough!”

The weight lifted off her back, and Scootaloo rolled onto her side. She had skinned her knees, and her belly was a perfect mould of the pavement.

Harvey hovered inside a dim yellow aura. His legs were hanging limp beneath him, and he stared dumbly with half-lidded eyes.

“You five, follow me,” Gari said crossly, and there was no doubt as to which five she was referring.

Marigold helped Scootaloo up and walked with her. She had a bruise on her chin, but was otherwise unhurt. Shining Dawn carried Morning Rain, and Gari kept Harvey suspended with her spell.

Scootaloo gasped and hissed with each step. She tried to take some weight off her hind legs, but her efforts inevitably led to a misstep and a sharp jolt of pain. Fortunately there was a small infirmary on the first floor, and so she did not need to climb the stairs.

Morning Rain was mumbling under his breath as Scootaloo entered the room.

“Is that all you got?” He said, raising a trembling, bloodied hoof in Harvey’s direction. “Come on. I’m… I’m… still…”

“Shut up!” Shining Dawn said.

Scootaloo winced as Shining Dawn struck Rain square in the nose, making it bleed anew.

“That’s enough, Dawn,” Gari said sharply.

Harvey was put on the bed next to the window, and a privacy curtain was closed. Gari walked past Morning Rain’s bed, and closed a second curtain that cut him off from the three remaining children.

Marigold held Scootaloo as Gari cleaned her wounds and bandaged her up. She was surprisingly calm in asking for their account of what happened. Even so, Scootaloo cried too much to speak. All three of them were sent away with bags of ice and orders to stay inside for the rest of the day.

They sat together on two bean bags in the play room; Marigold held Scootaloo close as the little pegasus cried herself dry. None of them spoke for ten minutes. It was Dawn who broke the silence.

“Did you know this would happen?”

“No,” Marigold said defensively. “I... I don’t know Harvey all that well.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Dawn said. He turned to Scootaloo. “Don’t feel too bad about this, okay? It’s not your fault at all. Rain’s a nice kid most of the time. Really. He’s just missing a few screws, and so is Harvey. Not like Foggy…”

“Hey!” Marigold interrupted. “Don’t talk like that! That’s mean!”

“It’s true,” Dawn said. “You know it’s true. Half the ponies here are missing some screws. T’s just how it is. You and me and Scootaloo are in the good half.”

That night Scootaloo stayed up long past lights out, with her sheets pulled up to her nose. Only after Gari brought a sleeping Morning Rain into the room and tucked him in the top bunk did she feel at ease.

At least I didn’t do all that for nothing.

Please Don't Go/I'll Miss You

Chapter 3

“Hey, are you okay?”

Scootaloo pushed a bit harder than she meant to. Morning Rain fell on his back with a heavy thud. Slowly his shocked silence became a pained cry.

The door to the bedroom swung open. Scootaloo pulled the sheets tighter over her head, wishing that everything would just disappear.

Gari soothed the colt and put him back on his bunk before turning her attention to Scootaloo. The filly resisted every attempt to pull away the blanket; after a few tries Gari gave up and instead took a seat at the edge of the bed.

“Scootaloo,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

A part of her wanted to speak, but every time she lifted her face a new sob rose in her chest. Her blanket was soaked through with tears. Gari rested a hoof on her neck.

“Do you miss your daddy?”

There was a sharp bang. The top bunk squeaked as Morning Rain sat bolt upright. Scootaloo let out a small squeak and buried herself deeper under the cover.

“Be quiet, Rain!” Gari said sharply.

“I’m just trying to…” Rain’s voice faded to a whimper.

“I… I want to go home,” Scootaloo sobbed. She was out of tears, feeling lightheaded and tired. Her knees were bruised from a game of kickball, and they were starting to hurt again. “I want to go home!”

Before she could tuck herself back into a ball Gari grabbed Scootaloo by the shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. Her cloak, warm and smelling of sweet cinnamon, swirled around them both and settled over Scootaloo’s back.

“I understand,” she said. “You miss your dad. You don’t have to hide it. But your dad still has work to do.”

“I… I should have went with him,” Scootaloo mumbled glumly. Gari’s hug was making her feel better, but she could not silence the voice in her head telling her that here was a strange mare who did not really care about her.

“Please don’t say that, dear,” Gari said, stroking her mane gently. “Your dad didn’t want that. He was trying to keep you safe, Scootaloo. When he finishes his work, he will come back for you.”

Scootaloo lingered in Gari’s embrace for a long time. It was comfortable. She tried to get back to sleep, but the same terrible thought always drifted back into her mind.

“You’re it!”

“I’M NOT PLAYING!”

The unicorn colt was already too far away to hear. Scootaloo rubbed her side gingerly. Getting gored by a unicorn left a welt in the best cases.

“Don’t chase him,” Dawn said. “I’ll tell Gari about this. Sparkler has been doing that a lot lately.”

Scootaloo walked the scooter awkwardly. Its heavy iron frame was thickly painted in an ugly shade of green, and the wooden floorboard was warped and splintering from countless decades of use. The handlebars were wrapped in fresh duct tape. She was a little disappointed that she didn’t get a shiny red scooter like the older couriers, but the “junkyard special” was functional. Its four wheels were balanced and well-greased, and its bulky metal parts felt every bit as sturdy as they looked.

After nearly three weeks the idleness of life at the Orphanage was getting to her. Gari had found a tutor for Scootaloo to get her ready for the coming school year, but the long summer days were all hers. She played tag and raced and wrestled until she had her fill, and each day she grew a little more restless.

Luckily there were plenty of jobs around the city to keep her busy. The Canterlot Orphanage had a special relationship with the various businesses in the capital. Fashion designers often hired children to be models. Pegasi could clean eavestroughs and windows. Berry pickers were in high demand in the farms near the city and even in the royal gardens, although all but the most disciplined were kicked out with juice smeared on their faces after the first hour.

Scootaloo had been watching the couriers ever since she came to Canterlot. She was mesmerized by the way they zipped around the streets, turning impossible corners and making the most spectacular jumps. She rarely saw them clearly, they moved so fast. One seasoned courier, a unicorn mare, once claimed that she could get from one end of Canterlot to the other in five minutes.

Her search started and ended at the delivery depot, where she was given the scooter and two weeks to learn how to ride it; a tall order, as she was beginning to realize.

“You should dismount here,” Dawn said when they reached one of the side doors. “We’ve had accidents with scooters inside the house before.”

There was a small crowd in the front hall; there were even a few kids were on the staircase. Caretakers were coming through the front door, trying to break up the ring of gawkers that had formed.

“Daddy! Don’t go!”

Scootaloo dragged her new scooter noisily up the stairs, pretending to leave. Dawn was by her side, glancing around every few steps to see what was playing out on the doormat.

Lying face down in the middle of the hall was a small filly, no more than four years old. Her short blond mane was covered in twigs, and she was clinging stubbornly to the front hooves of a broad-shouldered stallion in a blue jumpsuit.

“Sweetie, please don’t do this,” he said over his daughter’s noisy sobs. “It’s only for a few months. Gari will take care of you here.”

“I want to go with you!” She screamed, her hold getting tighter as her father lifted one hoof clumsily in an attempt to get away.

“Oh, grow up already!” Rain growled.

Scootaloo jumped. How a pony with hooves as big as his could move so quietly still eluded her. Rain’s torso was covered in bandages; his back was skinned from the fight with Harvey, and there were still some ugly bruises on his neck and legs.

“I didn’t whine like that when my daddy dropped me off,” he continued. “What’s her problem?”

“Rain,” Dawn said angrily, “I swear if you don’t shut up I will knock all of your teeth out.”

“Do it,” Rain said, turning to Dawn with cold eyes. “She’s still be a total disgrace to ponies everywhere.”

“No! No! No!”

The crowd was thinning out as half a dozen adults pushed the kids into the playroom. The new filly was surrounded in a pale yellow aura. Her father struggled to free his hooves from her vice-like grip.

Something about his attire stood out to Scootaloo. The jumpsuit looked a lot like what her own father had worn, only this one had two yellow stripes down the forelegs. The stallion’s tail was braided also, and his mane was twisted into a topknot.

“She should be proud!” Rain said, his voice growing steadily in volume. “Not everypony gets to join the EUP! She shouldn’t be this weak! This is just disg…”

Dawn’s magic surrounded him, forcing his legs straight and his mouth shut. Rain let out a pained moan as his hooves lifted off the stairs without any help form his wings.

Dawn charged onto the second floor landing before releasing Rain. The pegasus stumbled and fell on his side, gasping silently in pain.

“Rain,” Dawn said in a menacing whisper, lowering his head so Rain could hear every word. “I won’t tell Gari this time, because I don’t think it’ll do you any good. Look, I know you have problems, but you can never, ever say stuff like that. You’re real lucky it’s just me and Scootaloo who heard you.”

Rain did not answer. When he finally regained control of his breathing he turned his face towards the nearest wall and curled up with his wings covering most of his body. His shoulders trembled; Scootaloo felt bad almost immediately, though she had not done anything.

Back downstairs Gari had finally pried the filly off her father. The child kicked and screamed in midair as the adults exchanged their goodbyes. Then the stallion turned around.

The bottom half of his right rear leg was gone, replaced with a truss and a metal hoof. He walked with only the slightest limp, yet Scootaloo could not take her eyes off the fake limb until he pass completely out of sight. A shudder ran down her back, and for a while she could not bring herself to move.

“Come on,” Dawn said, putting a hoof on Scootaloo’s back. “Let’s get something to eat, and then I’ll see if I can track down a courier to teach you. Maybe you can stop falling over by dinnertime.”

Gari was certainly patient. Scootaloo felt bad for keeping her up. She tried to breathe slowly, and allowed her limbs to relax, but there was no fooling her.

You can go now, Gari. I’ll be okay.

Finally she could stand it no longer. Scootaloo opened her eyes and sat up. The long candle on the bedside table was half gone. Gari’s kind green eyes were just as comforting as her embrace. The words came to Scootaloo easier than she expected, but left her shaken nevertheless.

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

Gari sighed, and a look of deep pain flashed across her face. Perhaps it was the flicker of the candlelight, but for a moment she seemed to have the face of an ancient pony.

“Scootaloo,” she said seriously. “I want you to know that in this matter I am always honest, without exception.

“If anything happens to your dad that stops him from coming back, you will continue to live here at the Canterlot Orphanage. I will not cast you out, and I will not pass you off to a strange family. Life will go on for you. You will go to school just like every other filly in Equestria, you will still have food and a bed, and I will still love you. I love you, Scootaloo. I want you to remember that. Even after your dad comes back and you’ve moved away, you can always come back here when you need to. I’ll be here, and I’ll do anything within my power to help.”

Scootaloo stared blankly at Gari. Then she pounced and hugged her around her neck.

“Thanks,” she whispered with fresh tears in her eyes.

Gari held her until she was sleeping soundly once again.