“Please…give me what I want. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Soarin please…don’t do this…”
“Grrr. FINE! You brought this upon yourself!”
……………
Spitfire screamed, sitting up from her bed as the nightmare- the same nightmare- faded once more. Looking around quickly, she almost expected to find herself back in that bathroom, with the light-blue stallion that she had once called her best friend pinning her to the floor. Instead, she relaxed bit-by-bit when she instead saw one of the rooms in the Canterlot hotel that she had checked into, along with the rest of the Wonderbolts, after that day’s show.
The young captain folded her legs up to her belly, and slowly rocked herself back and forth, muttering under her breath and trying desperately to calm herself once again, “Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream…”
She wished ALL of it could’ve been a dream, one huge, horrendous nightmare, but it wasn’t. The events- the words, the actions, the...feelings- had all been real at one point. Spitfire knew that very well, yet a part of her still wished regardless that it hadn’t been true, if only because she felt that her private life was starting to fall apart.
Ever since that day, she had been paranoid and it definitely showed. The main change was that she had stopped sleeping around with the mares that she usually loved to have over, especially her more-romantic partner Fleetfoot, who upon FINALLY hearing the reason- she had been reluctant to say at her- agreed to give her some space, like the caring friend she actually was. She had also lost the will to do anything she had used to do so openly and freely, including partying, drinking, and- worst of all- flying solo and for the fun of it. Now, she didn’t want to get drunk, especially at crazy parties; she didn’t want to fly alone, especially at night; and she ESPECIALLY didn’t want to fly home alone when she knew that, somewhere out there, a male member of her team was probably drunk to high heaven and waiting...for the perfect chance…
Soarin had turned himself in, she knew that. The newspapers made a huge deal for the next month after the ordeal- a Wonderbolt who had admitted guilty to rape and had turned himself in, quote, “out of guilt”.
She didn’t trust that quote. She didn’t trust him. If anything, she felt nothing but hate and fear for her former friend now.
She still couldn’t help crying at that point, and wondering like she always did, Why did he do it!? Why did he think-?
Along with those repetitive thoughts, she knew that she had more issues to worry about, especially where work was concerned. Fleetfoot had spread the word around to the rest of the team, and they had supported her, especially when she lost the will to fly as fast as she used to, but her lacking performance didn’t escape the attention of their manager, who earlier that very day had told her that if she didn’t “buck up and improve”, she would be forced into an early retirement.
Her life and career were both pretty much ruined with paranoia and fear.
All because of HIM! She growled, picking up her pillow and throwing it across the room, praying to Celestia that somewhere, he felt the pain from the impact, You were my best friend, Soarin! Why!? WHY!?
She shook her head to clear it, but the tears kept coming from the thoughts that had already appeared. She had so much hate, so many questions, and for a moment, she wished that morning would come already so that she could return and escape to her apartment back in Cloudsdale. Her NEW apartment, because she was too paranoid to stay in her old home after what he did.
I need some air, She finally thought, getting out of bed. Hesitantly, she looked toward the door for a moment, I don’t really want to, but…
She wanted to fly, no matter how scary it was for her to be alone. She HAD to fly…
……………...
Canterlot truly was a gorgeous city. True, it wasn’t exactly built for the pegasi, as evident of the lack of clouds, but mixture of culture in the city- even though it was primarily the unicorn culture- was still enough to make one feel almost welcome and ALMOST not out of place- almost, considering that the city was also unfortunately the home to some of the most corrupt officials, nobility, and businessponies in Equestria.
Because of all the dark alleyways and the almost-empty streets, Spitfire was almost convinced to turn around and go back to the safety of her room, but the ache in her wings told her how much she NEEDED to use them after restraining herself from using them to their full potential for so long.
Relying solely on the “fight or flight” instinct that she was taught to channel at the Wonderbolts Academy, the golden mare quickly spread her wings and took to the air, quickly leaving those empty streets and dark alleys behind her as she soared into the open night sky.
She allowed herself a smile as the air rushed past her face and through her primaries as she truly sped through the sky for the first time in months. Celestia, how she MISSED the feeling of freedom. Yes, she remained cautious, looking around and behind her every so often, but for the first time, she felt like she was starting to make a comeback.
For the first time, she felt in control and dominant.
Maybe Rainbow Dash was right, Spitfire mused, maybe flying is the magical cure for fear…
It must’ve been, at least for a pegasus, because before the Wonderbolt knew it, a grin not seen in awhile had spread across her face, and she was soon rushing through the air and doing her favorite solo stunts. Keeping her mind occupied, she imagined herself in the Cloudsdale stadium again, surrounded by a cheering audience who was begging for her to do for more before she left the spotlight. Smiling, she granted the imaginary crowd their wish.
Of course, an illusion could only last for so long until the physical reality did something to rudely interrupt, and for Spitfire it came in the form of an entirely different ache that spread across her wings. Looking up at the moon’s position, she was surprised to find that- in what seemed like so short of a timespan- she had actually been flying for three hours.
It’s funny, Spitfire slowed to a hover, thinking as she looked back at her wings with a comical smirk, I come out here with you two begging for it, and now you’re saying you’ve had too much? Pft, wings….Oh well, wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, anyway. Might as well’ve practiced a bit.
Still though, she knew that she had to rest the tired limbs a bit before doing anything more, and she carefully looked around her for a good spot to rest. She was about a mere mile outside of Canterlot’s walls, and green grassy hills and plains were spread out before her, offering many different options. After a moment, her eyes locked onto what appeared to be a grassy hill with a nice, tall oak tree crowning it. With a smile, knowing that the tree’s shade would probably block out the morning sun if she decided to sleep there for the rest of the night, she directed her course toward the hill and in seconds found herself landing at the base of it.
Apparently, she was not the only one to decide on that hill as a spot to hang out, for when she neared the top, she was surprised to see the shadowy figure of another pony leaning against the tree, their back to her.
For a second, she recoiled- her and another strange pony, alone, at night, with nopony else around- but she mentally cursed herself for trying to slip backwards. That flight had surprisingly been her start to recovery and she was JUST starting to feel like herself after months of seclusion. There was no way anypony would ruin her chances for a full recovery after He-Who-Would-Not-Be-Named did that months earlier.
Instead, Spitfire regained her composure and boldly continued walking up the hill. When she was about ten yards away, she could make out the faint outline of wings on the other pony, but she paid little attention to that fact as she continued to smile and spoke up in a friendly tone,
“I see that I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep. You out for a flight, too?”
The figure jumped at the sound of her voice, slowly turning to reveal to green eyes- wide with shock- staring back at her. She was confused as to why the pony seemed so afraid. Was it because they weren’t expecting her to be there? Were they a fan?
She was confused, that is, until the other pony- the STALLION- spoke in a familiar, all-too-familiar voice,
“S-Spitfire?”
Spitfire froze, her eyes widening to the size of pinpricks, No…
It couldn’t be.
It COULDN’T be!
Unfortunately, her newly-rekindled fears were confirmed as the stallion slowly walked out from the shadows of the tree and into the clear moonlight- revealing his dark-blue mane and pale, light-blue coat. On his flank, a cutie mark consisting of a winged lightning bolt stood out for anypony to see.
Soarin....
