Lightning Dust wanted to kick the very concept of waiting. In its face.

For three days she waited. Not even for anything in particular- just noting the passage of time as she was kept shackled to a wall. The heavy weight of it on her already tight collar had initially driven her half-mad, but she found that she quickly became accustomed to it, like a cat to a bell on it’s neck.

At least, she thought she was used to it.

In the middle of the night she jolted awake, hyper-aware before realizing she had simply kicked out in her sleep, rattling the chain. The dream she’d woken from didn’t help her racing heart. She lay her head down again, staring out the window on the opposite wall, faint moonlight paling the dark blue sky, with high, thin clouds in the distance. Morning was still a long way off.

Nearby, a door creaked open.

Lightning Dust lifted her head, eyes wide as she stared at the door to their room but it was shut. Nothing moved. Probably just Soarin going to the bathroom or something, she told herself, holding her breath. Could someone be breaking in?

Then she heard heavy hoofsteps. getting closer.

She rose on shaking legs and watched the door to their room open, inch by inch.

A pony snuck in, half-hidden in darkness. He paused, like a hound catching a scent, then turned his head and stepped towards her.

Lightning Dust backed up against the wall, unable to run, her throat painfully tight.

"No…" she breathed, and found herself frozen.

He crept closer.

"No, not again," she said, louder. He didn’t flinch, only took another step. “Get away- get away from me! Stop! NO!"

"Soarin!"

Spitfire leapt between them. Soarin stumbled, shaking his head.

"What…”

"Wake up. You're sleepwalking," Spitfire said.

"I... Spitfire?" He said in a groggy voice, putting a hoof to his head. "Where—“

"Soarin- you were sleepwalking," Spitfire said again, a cold edge to her voice. "Go back to your room."

Lightning didn’t speak, afraid to make the smallest noise.

"I-I didn't mean…”

"It's fine. Just go and we can all get back to sleep."

"Right. Yeah, ok," he said before staggering out. Spitfire followed him to the door and closed it.

"We need to get a lock on this," she muttered, then turned to Lightning Dust. “Are you ok?”

Lightning Dust mutely shook her head, then rethought it. She slowly peeled herself away from where her heart had hammered her to the wall. “What just happened?"

"Soarin sleepwalks… sometimes.” She took a deep breath. “Look, if he does it again, just wake him up and he’ll snap out of it.”

"Again? Really? And if I can’t wake him? Or what if he wakes and decides to just do it anyway?” She growled and gave a quick jerk of her head, the chain on her collar loud in the stillness. “You can't keep me locked up forever."

"If I let you go, what would you do?"

"Not jump," she lied.

"I’m not going to let you kill yourself. Just… go back to sleep. He won’t touch you again," Spitfire said, voice heavy with exhaustion, before walking back to her corner.

The rest of the night Lightning Dust didn't sleep, couldn’t sleep. Every sound made her flinch, and every silence made her strain to catch the smallest hint of movement. She waited. She hated waiting.

As the hours passed she found herself gnawing on her fetlock joint, the thin bony flesh right above the hoof. The pain was refreshing, a sharp jolt in her sluggish, anxious mind. There was a slight tang of copper as she broke skin, but still she didn’t stop, worrying it between her teeth. What was wrong with her?

Oh, that’s right. A lot.

When had she become so afraid? Fear had never stopped her from flying through hurricanes or practicing dangerous stunts. Fear had never controlled her life. And yet there she was, terrified until morning like a stupid filly afraid of the dark.

It was a long, lonely time before the sky began to lighten through the window. By the time Spitfire got up to do her morning stretches she could barely keep her head up, jolting awake every time her eyes drifted closed too long. But the night had passed, and with daylight came the sense of safety. Which was stupid- she would never truly be safe. Or free.

Lightning Dust watched through half-open eyes as Spitfire walked by but then stopped and frowned at Lightning’s hoof, the pale green fur patchy and faintly stained pink.

“You have to stop doing that,” Spitfire said with a sharp glare.

“Why don’t you stick a muzzle on me?” Lightning bit back. “That’s what my other slave master did.”

Spitfire looked like she was about to argue or yell, and Lightning wished that she would. Instead she said nothing and went to do whatever she and Soarin did in the mornings. The door was left slightly open so Lightning could almost hear them in the kitchen, but it was little more than murmured conversation, the faint chinks of plates and cups.

A sharp taste filled her mouth and she realized she was chewing the inside of her lower lip. She wasn’t sure why she kept doing that, and it seemed hard to stop. There were already deep grooves in her black wing binders from biting into them as well, but that was just as pointless- if less painful. Rumor was that only a caribou could take off the collars or wing sheaths, something about runes and magic and the caribou being ridiculously controlling. Sometimes she thought she could smell her wings rotting away inside the hard cases, could imagine blood trickling down the bare flesh.

She needed something else to think about, but there was little that didn’t cause her pain. Thoughts of flying, her dreams of being a Wonderbolt, her once-loving coltfriend, the day of the invasion… she couldn’t think of those. Instead, she curled up on the wide cushion and imagined her lovely green wings, remembering the warmth of the sun as she glided over a wide green world ribboned with shining rivers and slender roads, the feeling of effortless lift as she caught an updraft and she could feel the breeze through every feather…

“Lightning Dust?”

She jumped up, bracing against the wall as Soarin entered the room. He wore his Wonderbolts uniform like usual, but at the moment he didn’t much look like one as he winced, looking embarrassed.

“Hey, uh, sorry about last night. That… that shouldn’t have happened.”

Her face twitched as she held back from snarling at him.

“I know you’ve been through a lot and we didn’t exactly have a great start, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

She didn’t say anything and stiffened when he looked at her neck, at the black collar and heavy chain locked to it. He had done nothing to help her, they both knew it.

“It’s not gonna be like this forever. Just for a while. I don’t know what Spitfire has planned but I promise you won’t stay chained like that… I—“

“Soarin!” Spitfire called while running in, her face wavering between angry and nervous. “What are you doing?”

“Wh- nothing. I’m just talking with her,” he said angrily.

Spitfire glanced at Lightning Dust, still backed up to the wall.

“You should get going or you’ll be late,” she said, making it sound like a command.

Something dark and strange passed over Soarin’s face- Lightning couldn’t say what it was, but she didn’t like it.

“Right.” He walked past her to the main room before she followed him out.

Lightning Dust kept her ears towards the door, waiting for him to leave. Instead, they kept talking.

“Soarin, what about, you know…” Spitfire said.

"They said I could pick her up today. Then again, they told me that yesterday too."

"Do what you can,” Spitfire said, “I'm worried what’ll happen the longer we wait."

She could just make out the faint creak as the front door opened and then closed with a lovely, sturdy click. Minutes later Spitfire walked in and wordlessly set down a bowl of oatmeal near her. Lightning Dust shoved it away with a grimace- she wasn't hungry.

“Did Soarin do anything?” Spitfire asked.

“No. Just talked.”

“Good,” she said, nodding solemnly.

That was interesting, Lightning Dust thought. It seemed Spitfire wasn’t too trusting of him, either. She wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or infuriating.

"So who is Soarin supposed to be picking up today?” Lightning asked. “Adding another slave to your harem?"

For a moment Spitfire hesitated, and Lightning Dust noticed how tired she looked, like she had slept as little as Lightning had.

"You'll see when she gets here," Spitfire said.

Once she was gone from the room Lighting Dust sat down, tilted her head back and told herself to breathe deep. Eyes closed, she tried to relax her shoulders, tried to loosen whatever it was crushing her heart and lungs. It didn’t work. The perpetual sense of nausea clung to her still, the heavy weight pulling her down. She was so tired of it.

Her mind drifted to what she had overheard earlier, Soarin picking up another mare, but who? Maybe a pony who could help her overcome Spitfire. Two against one, those were better odds for a chance to escape. If it's another Wonderbolt not likely, but if it wasn't- she’d have to somehow convince them. Until then all there was to do was pace and sleep and try not to think. She managed a few hasty bites of food but couldn't bear much more of the gritty, slimy aftertaste of the state-mandated mare kibble. A book would have been nice. Oh, who was she kidding- she would have happily read a shampoo bottle in Griffinese.

Afternoon came, and with it was the arrival of Soarin who was audibly struggling with something. Or someone.

"What happened?" Spitfire said, panic clear in her voice. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine, just drugged," Soarin replied between pants. "Where should I…?"

"Here, bring her in here," Spitfire said, their voices growing closer.

Lightning Dust stood as they entered, but instead of a mare dragged in on a leash, there was a large sack flung over Soarin's shoulders that Spitfire gently lowered. On closer look it wasn’t a sack, but canvas tied around something. Once on the ground she saw a familiar tuft of rainbow hair and pale blue fur from one end.

Lightning Dust felt her breath leave her as if she’d been struck.

Rainbow Dash.

"She's breathing," Spitfire said, untying the thick rope and pulling back the fabric. It was as if Spitfire had unwrapped a corpse, and the body before her wasn’t far off. The soft blue fur was mussed up and filthy, darker where bruises showed through and pus leaked from cuts on her shoulder, her leg, her neck. Black squiggles were all over her body, and it took Lightning a closer look to see they were words, messages... whore, bitch, cum sucker, rebel fuck, piss here…

"Sweet Celestia," Spitfire muttered.

Rainbow Dash had been tortured. Actually, truly tortured. She was bound and muzzled like a vicious animal, but lying there, she was only a small and wounded mare.

"Sorry,” Soarin said in the heavy silence. “I should have tried to get her out sooner, I didn't think she'd be this bad."

"She's here now, that's what matters. Soarin, can you get some water and towels?”

"Can't, I have to get back,” he said, jerking his head towards the door. “I barely had time to get her. And things have been crazy with the rain shortage and now we’re planning an attack on the Bison and—“

“Right, right. I forgot you’re the head of the Wonderbolts,” Spitfire said, and there was only a little anger in her face. “That’s fine, I'll take it from here."

“Take care of her.”

Spitfire just nodded and he left, with a long glance towards the blue mare laying before them. They were left alone in the uncomfortable silence. Lightning looked to Spitfire for what to do and saw that the Wonderbolt captain’s mask had slipped: terror and nausea showed clear on her face as she took deep breaths. Lightning Dust probably didn’t look much better.

Squaring her shoulders, Spitfire knelt and used her teeth to pull off the black gag and bridle, revealing faint lines where the ropes had dug in. Then she carefully undid the heavy bindings on her forelegs but stepped away in disgust when she pulled them off. Lightning grimaced as well when she saw why. The thick black binding had covered deep jagged gouges as if from chains, both fresh and dried blood matting on her sweat-damp fur.

"Those bastards..." Spitfire muttered in a trembling voice, pushing her mane back with a forehoof and gritting her teeth before unbinding her back legs, also bloody. She left and returned minutes later with a bucket of water and clean towels draped across her shoulder. Meanwhile, Lightning Dust hadn't moved. From where she stood, Rainbow Dash barely seemed to be breathing.

"I'll help," she said. Spitfire only raised an eyebrow, unable to speak with the bucket handle between her teeth. Lightning gulped around the lump in her throat. "Bring her closer, I'll... I can help."

Spitfire hesitated then set the bucket and towels beside her and carefully pulled Rainbow Dash so she was in reach. Her wounds looked worse close up, and she noticed a trickle of dried blood from a split lip and a dark and swollen black eye. The last time she had seen her, she’d been wearing the uniform of a Wonderbolt cadet, her chest glistening with a golden badge that should have been rightfully hers.

Maybe she did hate Rainbow Dash. Or used to. The events of the Wonderbolt Academy were suddenly a long, long time ago, a memory from another lifetime. At that moment a pony needed her. One who had once been her friend.

Sptifire disappeared into the other room again, this time coming with blankets and a pillow that she propped under her head, the rainbow mane splayed out in a filthy, tangled mess.

"For now, let's get her cleaned up." Spitfire took a cloth in her teeth and dipped it in the water which Lightning copied, if more hesitant. Slowly they wiped down her matted and sticky fur, maybe with sweat but probably something worse. Lightning Dust had begun to clean one of her forelegs before Spitfire stood suddenly with a groan, having begun cleaning the blood from her back legs.

"What?"

Spitfire took a deep breath through her nose before answering. "Can you turn around?"

"What? Why?"

"Just... give her that bit of dignity, ok?"

She didn't understand until Spitfire walked behind her and lifted her tail. Lightning spun around, a deep blush on her muzzle, so she didn't have to watch Spitfire pull out what must have been an anal plug. There was the faint sound of Spitfire’s grunts and a then wet pop. Rainbow Dash shifted and moaned, then stilled. How long had she had that in? It was so intimate, such a gross violation that Lightning wished she hadn't known about it, that Rainbow Dash hadn’t had to suffer it.

Spitfire left with whatever that thing was, and Lightning managed to look at her former wingmate again, and gently lifted an orange lock of hair from her eyes. At least she was safe. Her ordeal was over. Hopefully. Lightning Dust felt hot guilt bubble in her chest, not for what happened at the Academy, but after it. For months she had despised this pony, had thought up all sorts of ridiculous revenge schemes to hurt her, humiliate her... she wished she could take it back. She hadn't deserved this.

Rainbow moved her head, making Lightning jerk back her hoof that'd been hovering near her mane. She groaned, lifting her head like it was made of stone.

"Rainbow Dash? Can you hear me?" Lightning asked. She didn't respond, just grimaced as she tried to rise then fell back on shaking legs.

"Hey, hey, don’t do that… you’re hurt," she said and put a hoof on her shoulder but that simple touch made her jump as if burned. Rainbow Dash’s whole body was shaking as she tried again to stand.

"Rainbow Dash!" Spitfire said, rushing over. "Calm down, take it easy." She gently pushed her down. Rainbow Dash seemed to be deciding whether or not to fight it.

"I, nnn, I can't..." Rainbow Dash muttered, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"It's all right. You're safe now," Spitfire murmured, and maybe those words made it through, or maybe they didn’t. She sank back down, still faintly struggling, and passed out again.

Lightning Dust felt she'd just flown a thousand yard sprint the way her heart was pounding. She heard shaky breathing and realized it wasn’t her, but Spitfire.

"She… she’ll be groggy until the drug wears off,” Spitfire said, voice trembling, then seemed to catch herself and tightened her jaw. “Until then, just… try to keep her calm." For a moment, they both stood and watched Rainbow Dash, grimacing even in sleep.

Lightning Dust took a fresh towel, dipped it in the cool water and held it out to Spitfire. "Here, put this between her legs. Maybe it'll help." With a nod Spitfire took her advice, and at first Rainbow Dash jerked at the touch, harsh pain shooting across her face before slowly relaxing, every so often jerking as if still trying to get away.

Lightning wished there was more she could do, and went back to cleaning the wounds on her legs with renewed determination. It wasn't much, but it was something. Perhaps an hour passed, probably more, both quiet as they worked over the prone mare, Spitfire fetching clean water and finding bandages and medicine from a bathroom cabinet. Twice Rainbow Dash had woken up, but so brief she didn't speak, did little more than lift her head and try to look around. Dusk was creeping through the windows when they finished and Spitfire laid a soft blanket over her, covering up the blue fur and bright white bandages.

"Thanks for helping," Spitfire said in a soft voice. “I'll start making dinner. Can you keep an eye on her?"

"Sure."

Once Spitfire was gone she laid down beside Rainbow, gazing into her face and thinking back to when they'd first met. For those few days at the Academy she had thought she'd finally met a pony who could understand her, see things on her level. She'd been brash and intense. She’d been so cool. They were going to be Wonderbolts together. They had been friends. One of those once in a lifetime kind of friends.

Then it all went wrong.

Rainbow Dash had betrayed her, ratted her out to Spitfire just because she couldn’t keep up with her, didn't understand how she was pushing her limits. It wasn’t like she had wanted anyone to get hurt.

Although... maybe it was her fault, Lightning Dust thought. She’d never let her mind stray far down that path, that would be too terrible a thought. It was so much easier to blame others, the very two ponies she now had to live with. But maybe… maybe she had been too reckless. If she had just listened to Rainbow Dash, if she hadn’t gone forward with that stupid tornado, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe she wouldn’t have lost everything.

Rainbow Dash groaned, one eye blinking open.

"Hey..." Lightning murmured, reaching out a hoof to gently touch her foreleg. "You're ok. No one’s going to hurt you."

"W-where... Where am I? What happened?" She croaked out, then coughed.

"Hang on, I've got some water." Lightning grabbed the water bottle Spitfire had brought over. Lightning helped lift her head up, supporting her shoulders with her own body and was aware of Rainbow Dash stiffening against her. She held the bottle to her lips. Rainbow Dash coughed at first then slowly drank, long and deep.

"Thanks," she muttered after another cough and squinted hard at her. Then shook her head and squinted again.

"Lightning Dust?" she said in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's me."

"What... What happened?" Rainbow asked again, looking around the room but didn't seem like she could see all that well with how hard she peered at everything. Not having the lights on didn't help.

“It’s hard to explain, but the gist of it is… you’re safe.”

“Safe? How…?”

"Soarin brought you here," Lightning said, helping her sit up, but Rainbow jerked away from her touch. “Hey, it's cool, it’s just me. Look, I don't understand it either but I guess he's not crazy like the others. It’s, uh, it’s going to be ok."

She forgot how bad she was at comforting ponies.

Rainbow Dash lurched forward like a pony on too much cider, but shied away from any attempt to help her. When she was nearly stable enough to stand she took a shaky step and stumbled to the left, falling on her haunches, her whole body going rigid as she sucked in air through her teeth. Lightning frowned at the way she held up her left foreleg, like it couldn’t bear the weight. What's more, Lightning noticed, she wouldn't dare look at her.

"How, uh, how are you feeling? They said you were drugged, it might still be wearing off." She tentatively reached out a hoof to her shoulder but Rainbow Dash jerked away, still refusing to look at her.

"Yeah, I know I was drugged," she said harshly. "I'm... I'm fine."

"Sorry. Dumb question," Lightning muttered and felt stupid for not realizing it all sooner. Rainbow Dash hated her. Of course she would, Lightning Dust had almost killed her friends.

It was only fair she wouldn't want anything to do with her.

Lightning Dust crept back to her cushion against the wall, feeling worse than she had all day. "Spitfire's in the other room, you should go talk to her. She'll want to know you're up."

"You're not coming?"

"Can't." She kicked her hoof so the chain rattled against the wall. Rainbow’s eyes followed the gray metal from the wall to the black collar at her neck.

“But, you said—“

"Don’t worry about it, just go." She lay her head down and didn’t look at her, hating the tight pain in her chest.

Rainbow Dash hesitated but was eventually able to stand, swaying before steadying herself and walking towards the light in the other room, gingerly stepping on the bandaged hoof. Before she could make it out, Spitfire appeared in the doorway.

"Rainbow Dash, you're awake!"

"Why is Lightning Dust chained up?" she demanded.

Spitfire stopped, her face unreadable.

"It's for her own protection," Spitfire said, voice wavering.

"What reason could you possibly have for chaining up a pony?"

Lightning Dust stared, shocked. Why was she fighting for her? Unless that was just the kind of pony she was. Which only made her feel worse.

"I'll explain later. For now, how are you feeling? You were in pretty bad shape."

"Fine, I guess. But I still don't understand, what's going on? I, I remember some of it but it… it can’t be real.”

“You mean the invasion? The caribou taking over? It was real. All of it. Equestria as we know it is gone.”

"So it's all true then. We lost,” she said in a small voice, sinking down. "They kept telling me all these things but I didn't want to believe it. Spitfire, I heard that you, your wing…" Spitfire turned and flicked on the light, half-blinding them and revealing the emptiness on her left side.

Rainbow Dash stared, and Lightning Dust found herself looking away, her own wings twitching against the spiked sheaths.

“Don’t worry about it,” Spitfire said. "We’ve got more important things to focus on.”

“No… we could have stopped them. I... if I hadn’t left my friends, maybe we could done something. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, Dash. We’ll find some way.”

“So… so what now? We’re fighting back, right?”

"Not yet. We're going to fight back... somehow. Right now, I'm focusing on saving as many mares as we can. Soarin's on our side, he can bring mares here where we can at least be safe."

“That’s a lie,” Lightning Dust said from where she lay. Both mares turned to her.

“There’s nowhere in Equestria that’s safe. And there’s no way to beat the caribou. They’ve taken over everything, it’s hopeless to try.”

“What, you’re just giving up?” Rainbow Dash said.

“I’m being realistic. And if they ever find out what’s going on, we’ll be in worse shape than if she’d never gotten us involved.” She glared at Spitfire who looked uneasy. “You’re delusional if you think things will ever go back to normal.”

“I don’t care,” Rainbow Dash said, standing tall despite her limp, despite the bruises and bandages. “There’s no way I’ll give up. I’m going to fight back, no matter what they do to me.”

Lightning Dust stared. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

“That’s enough,” Spitfire said softly, standing between them. “Whether anypony wants to fight is up to them. And Lighting’s right, we’re all in more danger than if I hadn’t brought you both here. But for now, we’re safe and we can try to think of some way out of this. Rainbow Dash, it will be dangerous, and I know you’ve already been through enough, but if you’re willing to fight I’d be happy to have you.”

Rainbow Dash straightened her back and nodded stiffly.

“Thank you. But for now, you need to take it easy. I’ve got dinner ready- it’s not much but it beats that kibble.”

Spitfire turned to look down at Lightning Dust but she looked away, afraid to meet her eyes. For a moment they were quiet, the strange somber mood unsettling. Then Spitfire glanced at the bowl of uneaten food near her. “I’ll bring you some real food, too,” she said, kinder than usual.

“Don’t. Not hungry,” Lightning Dust muttered, feeling such a strong wave of nausea and gut-wrenching shame that the mere thought of food sent bile into the back of her throat.

“Come on, Dash. Can you walk?” Spitfire said, offering a hoof but Rainbow Dash shook her head, pulling away. Then she was alone again.

She curled into herself, cradling the deep pain in her chest as if she could hide from the shame. What had happened to her? Why was she so desperate to run? Rainbow Dash had been through hell and was still willing to fight, to try and save Equestria. Lightning Dust should have said that, should have wanted to fight against those who had hurt her. But all she could think about was… was...

No. She was done. They might all be safe for the moment but it wouldn't take much for Spitfire's scheme to fall all to pieces. And when it did, there may not be any more opportunities, no relief from the terror raging outside those walls.

Stick with the plan, she reminded herself numbly. Would Rainbow Dash help her? It seemed unlikely. Maybe she could convince her to run away together. That seemed just as doubtful. She just had to convince her that it’d be for the best. Rainbow Dash and Spitfire were brave enough ponies to keep struggling- they were tough, they would keep fighting no matter the odds. They wouldn’t stand back and watch the ponies they love get hurt.

Lightning Dust? She wasn’t that pony. Not anymore.

Not like it mattered, Lightning Dust reminded herself. It shouldn’t matter, right? Besides, Rainbow Dash already hated her, couldn’t even stand to be touched by her. Which… was fine, she told herself. What was one more pony hating her? One more pony disappointed in her?

Every bridge had been burned, and the smoke lingered on her fur.

Author's Note

Meant to publish this over the weekend but kept adding and tweaking parts (it's longer than I expected).
Gonna be honest- that last line was heavily inspired by Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.
Next chapter is when things finally start to pick up