Force and Consequences

Chapters

Chapter 2: Wednesday- Rescue
Chapter 3: Thursday- Disclosures
Chapter 4: Thursday- Getting Ready
Chapter 5: Thursday- Reporting
Chapter 6: Thursday- Hospital
Chapter 7: Thursday- Respite
Chapter 8: Thursday- Preening
Chapter 9: Thursday- Nightmares
Chapter 10: Friday- Crusaders
Chapter 11: Friday- Reasons
Chapter 12: Friday- Grounded
Chapter 14: Friday- The Meadow
Chapter 15: Saturday- Waking Up
Chapter 16: Saturday- Princesses
Chapter 17: Saturday- Sharp
Chapter 1: Wednesday- Assault
Chapter 13: Friday- Applejack

Chapter 2: Wednesday- Rescue

“Get the hell away from her!”

The voice comes out of the darkness and cracks open the swirling vortex of pain. I go from being totally alone to remembering that I’m in a town full of ponies and there’s no way Mac can keep this up forever. A flash of hope blazes through me, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. I’m not alone anymore, but I recognize that voice. That voice isn’t going to be able to do anything against Mac, and I wish they weren’t even here to see this. Even if they could help me, I’m not sure I want to survive this anymore.

Suddenly, something rips him out of me. The relief of being suddenly empty is paired with a blinding pain that touches every part of my insides and crashes through my brain like a flash flood as I collapse into the dirt.

Part of me wants to feel relieved that he’s gone, but I can’t get past the panic. Letting myself relax now would just be stupid. I don’t know where he is now. I’m exposed and vulnerable. He’s going to come back and just be even more pissed off.

I have to hide. I have to get away. I have to get that stupid pony that’s trying to save me and get out of here. My wings twitch instinctively. It hurts so much that I instantly accept that I’d better not to try that again for awhile. I try to stand up, but I can’t. I can’t even move. I’m useless, and now it isn’t just going to be me that pays for it.

There’s a huge crash- something big smashing through a stack of wooden crates or something. I hear the nails groan and creak as they’re ripped from their planks, but the sounds can’t have anything to do with me. It’s too far away, and it definitely doesn’t sound like somepony coming to help me and my would-be hero.

I try to lift my head and look. The movement makes me want to scream again, which would be a really bad idea. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself right now. Mac hasn’t come back yet. Maybe whatever that sound down the street was spooked him, but I’m probably not that lucky. Still, I don’t want to give him a reason to come back. So, I put my head back in the dirt and focus on listening.

There’s a thumping of big hooves, but they are still too far away to make any sense. It sounds like somepony struggling to get up for a second, but then the sound is gone, and I hear a gasp. It sounds just like I did when Mac forced every last breath out of my lungs.

I force my eyes open. One feels like it’s almost swollen shut like it must have kept getting snagged on whatever that sharp thing sticking out of the wall was. I can’t open it hardly at all. The other one works ok though. At least, I think it does. I’m not sure I can trust what I’m seeing though, because it doesn’t make any sense.

Way down the street, I see Mac wrapped in blue. Then, with a burst of light, he’s flying through the air like a rag doll. He’s got to be more than a hundred yards away now. He hits the ground in a puff of dirt.

I hear his grunt of pain. I watch him slowly getting back on his hooves. He’s moving gingerly like he just survived a rockslide or something. Even though he’s so far away, I can tell he’s looking back at me. Then he glances at the pony standing protectively over me. A hoof stomps prepared to charge or strike again. For just a second, he hesitates, and I try to suck in a breath to hold. He could still come back. He even takes one step toward me, and I flinch.

A dim glow lights just above me, and he stops. His eyes go so wide that I can see the whites. Then, he turns and runs like his tail is on fire.

I let go of the breath I was holding and shift my gaze to stare at those familiar, well-hooficured, perfectly gray-white hooves. She’s still facing away from me, watching to make sure he's gone.

“Rarity?” I manage to say in disbelief. I want to ask her how she found me. I want to ask her how she did that. I want to beg her to get me out of here, but talking hurts. My throat aches from being choked and trying to scream.

“Oh, my stars, Rainbow Dash!” She kneels in front of me. She reaches like she wants to help me up but then pulls back like she’s afraid to touch me. “We need to get you to the hospital immediately.”

“Please.” I cough and stupidly try to stand again. It doesn’t work. I get myself an inch or two off the ground and then collapse back into the dirt. “No,” I say with a cough and a wince of pain as the wind gets knocked out of me again. That’s all I can get out.

I don’t want anypony to see me. I need her to understand that, but I also don’t expect Rarity of all ponies to listen to me. I just want to hide. I can’t go be in a place with bright lights and stares. I can’t be like this in front of anypony. I need her to get why I don’t want to go to the fucking hospital. I need her to get it without me explaining it to her.

“Darling, we must-”

“No. Please. No,” I beg. I force myself to look into her eyes hoping that she can see all things I don’t have the words to say right now. “Please, Rarity.”

“Oh, Rainbow,” she chokes through her tears. Her eyes are frantic. She’s trying to decide what to do. Her eyes don’t rest on any part of me for more than a second, but they don’t look away either. I watch those blue eyes move up and down my body. I watch as the seconds tick by and listen to her debate with herself in little gasps and whines as she takes in each place marking me with what just happened.

At the very least, I know that my head is bleeding. Maybe my eye is too, and that’s why I can’t really see out of it. I know I have a bruise that wraps all the way across my ribs from his foreleg. My jaw hurts. I’m covered mud, blood, and stallion spit. Rarity should be flinching away and telling me how disgusting I am right now, but she doesn’t look grossed out at all. She keeps trying to reach out and touch me, then pulling her hooves back like she’s afraid she’ll break me or hurt me more.

I don’t know how I feel about the idea of having her touch me. Part of me longs for it, like being touched by anypony that isn’t Mac might undo some of what just happened; like maybe if I pinch myself or something, I’ll realize this is a nightmare and wake up. Another part of me never wants anypony to touch me ever again. The loudest part of my brain doesn’t care if she touches me or not, as long as she gets me out of the street and doesn’t take me to the damn hospital.

What little hope I had that she would listen to me disappears as I watch her make a decision. I know that look. That look never goes the way I want it to.

“Can you walk?” she asks softly with a hint of resignation in her voice. The question and her tone surprise me.

“Maybe,” I manage to whisper, even though it hurts. My throat feels rough and raw like I’ve been screaming for hours, or like I’ve been gargling with sandpaper. I know that I didn’t actually manage to make much noise while he was choking me though. Just like everything else I tried, it was pointless.

I look around for him again. I don’t know how Rarity of all ponies got him to go away, but I don’t think she could do it twice. The street is still empty for now.

I remember that she just asked me a question. I shake my head trying to focus and finish what I was saying to her, “but I don't think so.”

I feel like he split my back half wide open. I wouldn’t know how to use my legs even if I could handle the pain, which I’m not sure I can. I try to twitch my wings again, which is really stupid because it hurts. It’s a sharp, piercing, blinding pain that sears through every part of my wings and down my back all the way to my tail. The pain makes me try to suck in a breath, which makes whatever he broke in my chest cry out in agony. I manage to keep my reaction to a quiet yelp, which makes Rarity twitch, but she still doesn’t touch me.

Trying to fold my wings in hurts just as much. Being forced open and pinned like that seriously messed some things up. I'm not flying anywhere for a long time- if I’m ever able to fly again at all.

“Alright.” Rarity nods. Her voice is careful, and quiet, and controlled. I can only tell that she’s right on the edge of freaking out, but determined not to let it happen, because I’ve seen her lock herself down like this before. Rarity is the only pony I know that can control her emotions like that. ”I can carry you or we can teleport, which do you prefer?”

“Which will get me off this street faster?”

“Right, teleporting it is then.” She reaches out with her hooves then stops. She’s trying to be brave, but she’s also shaking. “I’m going to have to touch you,” she says in that same steady voice, “is that alright?”

That part sounds a lot more like Rarity- polite and proper even in times of crisis. Of course, she cares about manners and asking for permission right now. I almost smile and roll my eyes at her.

“Yeah, Rare.” I spit some blood out of my mouth. I bit my cheek at some point. “It’s cool. Just get me out of here.”

She takes a breath and picks me up like I’m a newborn foal, like I don’t weigh anything at all. She’s being so careful. She’s obviously afraid of hurting me. Her touch is delicate and warm. I’m surprised when she wraps her forelegs around me, and I instantly feel a little better. It’s like getting wrapped in a blanket or something.

She is everything Mac isn’t. Rare is trim and small. She’s firm but soft. There’s nothing forceful about how she’s touching me. She isn’t shaking anymore. Everything about her is in control now. She feels solid and strong. Every move she makes is careful and takes my aches and pains into account.

I let go of a sigh of relief. Rare’s got this. She’s listening to me. She’s going to get me out of here. She made him go away, and she’s not going to stop protecting me. It doesn’t make sense, but I don’t care. I’m done. I don’t have to fight right now. I don’t have to do anything. She’ll take care of all of it. Right here, right this second, I don’t have to do or be anything. All I have to do is exist. Rarity will take care of the rest.

“This is going to take just a moment,” she explains to me. “I really don’t want us to end up in the wrong place.”

“It’s cool, Rare. Take your time.”

I try not to think about the fact I’ve never seen Rarity teleport anything bigger than a dress. Instead, I focus on how she feels. Mac ripped me into pieces, but she’s managing to hold me together somehow. It’s like I’m one of those 3-D puzzles Twilight likes, and Rare has her hooves pressed to the sides with the just the right amount of pressure- enough to hold me together, but not so much that the pieces explode away from each other.

The more I let myself fall apart in her arms, the stronger she seems and the safer I feel. I open my good eye and see that her chest is covered in mud and blood. Her perfect coat that she’s always so damn fussy about is matted and gross. I glance up at her face. Her eyes are closed. She looks calm and controlled, almost peaceful. She’s taking deep, even breaths and muttering so quietly I wouldn’t know she was doing it if I wasn’t watching. Her horn is glowing. She’s focused, and she doesn’t give a shit that I’m getting her dirty. That’s a big deal for Rarity.

I close my eye again and rest against her shoulder. I don’t want to distract her. It takes a few more seconds; then I feel the cool blue drip around me. It's soft and tingly. There's a pop and a kind of sliding and squeezing feeling. It’s a super mellow version of that pressure vacuum thing I feel right before a sonic rainboom. Then there’s another pop, and we're in Rarity’s huge and freakishly clean bathroom.

She apologizes for not taking me home, but there was nopony to help me there, and Fluttershy’s was too far. I wouldn’t have wanted to go to Fluttershy’s anyway, but I don’t tell her that.

I can still feel him all over me. I can feel the places on my back where he leaned against me. I can feel a streak of something nasty on my stomach where he rubbed his cock on me. I can feel the weight of bruises forming all over my body. I’m pretty sure that I’m bleeding back where he shoved himself inside of me because something is wet and dripping.

We just sit there on the floor for a while. I keep waiting for her to get mad at me for getting the floor dirty or something, but she doesn’t. The longer we sit, the more I fall apart. I remember more and more with each passing second, and the more I desperate l am to forget the whole thing.

The only distraction I have is Rarity. At first, she tries to pull away and give me space, but I don’t want space. I don’t want to be left alone with nothing but these flesh memories of what just happened to me. I don’t even have the words to tell her any of that, so I just hold on as tight as I can. She stops trying to move away from me and starts stroking my mane carefully.

Silent tears roll through the mud and blood on my muzzle, leaving her pristine coat caked with even more gunk than before. I close my eyes, so I don’t have to look at how messy she is because of me. Her chest rises and falls in perfectly even beats, a little too slow to be natural for me, but I try to match my breaths to hers anyway. The hoof in my mane moves slowly in time with the rhythm of her breathing, always following the same pattern.

I try to match her forced stillness. It’s like trying to keep a tornado in a block of ice. Any second, something might shatter and then… I have no idea what would happen. I only know it would be bad. So, I try to ignore the feeling that I’m being rocked- not gently back and forth like a foal that needs to go to sleep, but violently- back and forth, with my face smashing and catching on every forward and my stupid brain hoping it’ll all be over this time on every back.

Some memories make me flinch and twitch. Like remembering his giant forehooves pressed into my flanks like branding irons, then lifting me up only to bring me back down on the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my whole life. And, I can’t even remember if the pain or the humiliation felt worse.

“Oh Rainbow,” she mumbles.

Eventually, she pulls in a deep breath and her muscles tense like she’s about to pull away from me. I shake my head and crush myself against her even harder. Her breath feels cool against my skin as she nuzzles me gently between the ears and says, “Don’t be afraid, darling. I won’t leave you.”

I can only squeeze her in acknowledgment.

“We really ought to get you cleaned up,” she says. There’s a second part to that sentence, and I wait for her to finish. She’s supposed yammer on and on about how she has just the thing to wash it all away. It’ll be some Prench scrub or wrap that costs more than Twilight’s crown, and it will smell like jasmine or something. This is the part where she’s supposed to say that it will make me feel better to be clean and feel put together.

She doesn’t say it. Her tone isn’t patronizing. It’s sad and listless. Like she knows it’s what we should do, but she doesn’t expect it to help much and that’s disappointing. It’s like knowing that I really should anchor my house before a serious windstorm, but also knowing that it won’t matter. The wind will just rip the anchor point out of the wall anyway, and I’ll still have to spend the next day pushing my house back to Ponyville.

I want a shower so bad. I want to believe that I can wash him off me, but I want the distraction of her more. She can’t let go of me, or I’ll stop having her breaths to focus on, and I’ll fall apart. The millions of pieces Mac ripped me into will burst into a heap on her bathroom floor, and I won’t ever be able to put them back together again.

I need her. I need her to hold me. I need Rarity to hold onto me while I fall apart or I won’t ever have a hope of being whole again. I’ll lose all the pieces I have left. I’ll lose everything.

Plus, the shower can’t really wash him off anyway. It won’t really help. Just like nothing I tried to do helped. Nothing helps, except Rarity.

“What if I get in with you? Will you let me do that? Would that be alright?” She asks with a hint of desperation in her voice. I nod. I don’t care what happens. As long as she doesn’t go anywhere, so I can stay safe.

The cool blue feeling comes back, and she levitates us both into the tub. She moves the showerhead, so we don't get blasted with cold water. After a minute, she sprays my back just a little and asks me if it's warm enough. It isn't. I want it scalding. I want him burned away from my fur, my mane, my feathers, and my skin. She sets the water as hot as she can handle, then she apologizes for not being able to tolerate more.

She reaches with her magic and closes the bathroom door, which makes the room get even warmer. As the air gets thick, I feel his hot, moist breath on my neck, his blazing body pressing in on me from everywhere, and the hollow emptiness of my insides where he stretched every part of me way too far way too fast.

I bury my face in her shoulder and try to think about how she smells instead. Even with the mud and dirt on her chest, she smells clean, like laundry and something flowery. Her scent isn’t enough of a distraction to get rid of the feeling like Mac is here in the tub with us, but it’s enough to keep me present and remind my brain that the feeling isn’t real.

She sprays the hot water over my back and mane. “Can you spread your wings?” she asks. She’s trying hard to keep her tone soft, but neutral.

I don't even try. The few twitches from the street and the spasms from the past few minutes hurt more than enough. So, I just shake my head a little.

“May I try and help you?” she asks, and her voice is just a little bit warmer than before. I nod. She tries to do it by hoof, but it hurts. I flinch and whimper, so she stops. “Shhhh,” she coos quietly at me as she wraps her leg around me again. “Shhhh. I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash. I won’t try that again.”

“Don’t call me that,” I cut her off harshly. Mac even ruined my damn name. I can hear him telling me to get rutted like a good mare, his low voice wrapping around my name and making it his- like he had some right to it.

“Alright, Dashie,” she whispers gently. I feel her magic wrap around my wing like a soft bandage. The tingling, gentle pressure feels really good. Somehow, she manages to get it open without causing me much pain. There’s still a dull ache, but nothing like it was before. Now there’s enough space in my brain for me to think about how weird it is that I didn’t just get in trouble for being rude to Rarity.

Water sprays across the plane of my wing at just the right angle for the feathers to get clean but not get messed up. I wonder vaguely why it doesn't hurt more and where she learned to do it like that. Probably in a magazine or something. Most ground ponies would have done it wrong, and the few feathers I have left would have been blasted even farther out of alignment.

“Your beautiful wings,” she mumbles to herself every few seconds. I can't look. I don't want to know.

Rage flares in my chest. What use are wings anyway? They didn’t save me. The rage flames out quickly and is instantly replaced with shame. It isn’t my wings fault I didn’t get away. I’m the one that didn’t try and take off when I should have. I’m the one that didn’t listen to that weird feeling in the back of my head. I’m the one that didn’t get away when I could have. I’m the one that let this happen to me. This is all my fault, because I was stupid.

“May I wash your mane?” she distracts me from my internal rant. My back and wings are all rinsed off now. She doesn’t try rinsing my front. We're chest to chest, and I'm not moving. I’m shaking from holding onto her so hard. The thoughts in my head make me more certain with every passing second that I need her. She made him go away. She kept me safe. I can trust her even though I can’t trust my own instincts or my own body.

I nod to the question. I want him off me.

“This will feel a bit coarse,” she warns, “but it’s going to scrub everything away. Alright?”

A little tub floats toward us wrapped in her blue aura. When she pops the lid off, the smell isn't Rarity. It's industrial with a hint of oranges. I flinch and cling to her even harder when she lifts her hooves to get the soap she needs.

“Ready?” she asks, and I nod again.

She's right. The soap is gritty like it has sand in it. Just like before, she knows just the right amount of pressure to use. It hurts a little when her hooves tug on the strands of my mane, but it’s a pain that feels good. So, I lean into her hooves, silently begging her to scrub harder and she does. Somehow, she manages to still be gentle at the same time. She twists the soap through every strand twice before asking, “Back?” I nod again. She gets more soap. “Ready?”

I hesitate, thinking she’ll just start without me, but she doesn't. She waits until I'm ready. I nod again. It’s weird for Rarity to wait for permission to do anything, but it’s also kind of nice. I let myself think about how glad I am that it was Rarity. I don’t know how anypony else would have handled it, but I know that she’s the only pony that would have me in a hot shower getting him scrubbed away right now. She’s the only one that cares that much about being clean.

Her hoof finds a spot between my wing joints that’s more tender than the rest of me and I flinch. It’s the place Mac put his hoof to shove my face in the dirt. “I’m sorry, darling,” she says and hesitates before she goes on, working the soap through my coat.

Everytime I flinch, or she touches some new bruise, or I nuzzle in a little harder she apologizes. Getting clean hurts, but I don’t want her to stop. I want her to scrub harder and strip away some of the slime he left on me. I want every last part of him to get washed away.

She grabs a brush with her magic. She shows it to me; it has short firm bristles with some spider-webby looking stuff. I nod at it. She asks again, “Ready?” I squeeze her and nod.

She wraps her forelegs gently around my head as the scrubber works my back. Then she reaches with a shaking hoof to my flank and barely touches my cutie mark. I look to see what she’s seeing. I'm bruised. I have one giant hoofprint on each side that almost perfectly surrounds my cutie marks. It’s where he grabbed me.

“I’m sorry, Dashie,” she whispers again as she pulls her hoof back.

We sit in the shower and cry for a long time. She holds me and whispers to me. I'm not totally clean, but I want to get out of the shower. She turns the water off and uses her magic to dry us. Her chest is still dirty. She didn’t even try to clean herself, but she doesn’t seem bugged by it. She throws her mane up in a ponytail or something and levitates both us to her bed, because I still don’t know how to let go of her so she can just walk.

“Would you like me to stay with you?” she asks. I just hold onto her even tighter. She offers me some water that I don't drink. Then she gives me some ice cubes to suck on. That's nice. I was parched, and my throat was sore.

We don't sleep. I cry. I can’t make it stop, and I don’t really try. The tears just keep slipping out of my eyes and rolling down my face onto Rarity’s chest. She doesn’t try to get me to stop either. I’m pretty sure she cries with me. Even though I don’t see it, because I’m staring at her comforter not seeing the pattern.

She keeps telling me that I’m safe now and that she won’t let anything bad happen to me. I believe her. That’s the one thing I can hold onto as the memories play across my mind over and over again. Mac leaning against that wall when I walk out of the bar like he’s waiting for me. His green eyes leering at my wings like they’re Harvest Day dinner. Splinters raining down on my face from groaning wood planks every time as he rams me forward. All of the memories, all of the moments I should have just left him in the dust, all of the chances I had to get away; they all play out over and over and over again, and the only thing that keeps me from screaming is knowing that Rarity won’t let anything else happen to me.

A touch of magic opens the window, and cool, clean air comes in around us. She asks me if I want her to sing. I nod. She sings me every lullaby and sad song she knows and then some. It doesn’t make me feel better, but it gives me something to try and focus on other than the feeling of being locked inside giant immovable arms with a hot wet tongue swirling around my ear, and being filled to bursting with something so disgusting and unwanted the mere thought of it makes me want to puke.

After hours, in the darkest part of the night, I want another shower. I just barely shift, and she knows. She lets me go, which I don’t really like. Then she helps me up. It’s the first time I’ve stood on my own since it happened. I hurt everywhere. I don’t trust myself not to fall over. So, I lean on her as we walk to the bathroom.

My eyes are open. Well, the good one is. The other one is still pretty much swollen shut. I don't see anything though. All I see is the bright blur of Rarity’s bathroom. I can’t make myself focus, and I don’t try.

She helps me into the tub. I don't want to be alone, so she gets in with me again. The water isn’t quite as hot as before.She uses the citrus sand soap again and the brush. She scrubs every inch of me this time, except for my wings. It hurts like hell, even more than earlier. She hesitates before going between my legs, I just wrap my forelegs around her neck and beg, “Please, Rare.”

It hurts. It hurts so much. She is being so gentle with me, but it still hurts so much that it just can’t be possible that there are words to describe how much it hurts. I’m not sure if it’s the physical pain or the other kind of pain I’ve never felt before that makes me want to scream. It’s so weird to have her touch me there, but I don’t feel the weirdness. I just feel the pain and some gratitude that she’s here to get me clean. She doesn’t hesitate again after that.

After a rinse, there’s shampoo. The scent is light, like rain and something else I can’t figure out. Another rinse, then a round of conditioner. It’s creamy and feels like being rubbed down in butter. I feel the moisture soak back into my coat. All the raw places on my body feel softer, like the skin might be supple enough to let any open wounds start to close a little bit.

When I’m clean, she washes herself quickly. I notice that there’s a whole shelf full of bottles, but she only uses two, shampoo and body wash. She puts in just enough effort to get herself clean, wasting no time to do more. Then she rinses herself off and asks if I’m ready to get out. I nod again.

She helps me out of the tub to stand on the soft rug in front of the mirror. Magic dries her in an instant while she wraps me in a fluffy white towel and gently rubs most of me dry. Then she levitates me back to her bed. Floating through the air wrapped in Rarity’s aura and a towel should feel weird. I know it should, but I can’t focus on it. My mind is starting to shut down, to go blank. I don’t fight the feeling. I just let it settle over me like a warm blanket of numbness.

“Would you like tea?” she asks as she climbs up on the bed. It doesn’t sound bad, and since she just climbed up next to me it doesn’t feel like she has to go away to make it, so I nod, and her horn lights up. I scoot a little closer and watch her face. She has her eyes closed again. There’s a little blue crease where she didn’t get all of her eyeshadow off. For a second she chews on her lip and kind of swoops her head at something I can’t see.

After a few minutes, a tray comes floating into the room with tea and toast. She floats the cup for me. The tea is strong and warm. She doesn’t say anything when I slurp or spill. She offers me a piece of toast that I can’t even try to eat.

Then we just stay there on her bed. Eventually, she takes my towel away and asks if she can brush my mane. The brush is soft. She doesn’t stop at my mane. She curries my back and chest. With a little nudge, she rolls me over to brush my stomach. When she’s done there, she looks at my cutie mark, “May I?” she asks.

I nod again. She rolls me to one side, then the other. Then she brushes out my tail. I want each stroke of the brush to feel like a new coat of paint. I want to feel like she can reclaim my body somehow, but that isn’t how it feels. There’s pain each time she touches me, not enough that I want her to stop, just enough to remind me that I’m damaged in ways she can’t brush away.

“Wings?” she asks in that careful tone she used earlier.

I’m not sure what she means, but I nod. She helps me roll onto my back. My wings, which still won’t fold right but that seem to be hurting a lot less than they should, flop out on the bed.

“Are you sure?” she asks again.

It takes me a minute, but I finally realize what she wants to do. I didn’t know she knew how, but it makes sense. She probably learned at the spa with Fluttershy or something. I nod.

She takes my wing in her lips and gently spreads it out all the way, carefully encouraging it to open. My feathers look like shit. Even after both showers, they still look dirty. Some are sticking out, broken and bleeding. It’s easy to see the outline of his hoof in the crushed and broken veins. There’s a bruise on my chest at the wing joint where he hit me at some point. Looking at the bruise, I realize numbly how close I came to losing a wing. If he’d hit me that hard just an inch further to the side, he would have ripped my wing off.

This could have been hot. It should have been- Rarity preening my wings and doing a damn fine job of it- but it isn’t. Nothing about this is sexy. I can’t feel anything, and she isn’t trying to make me feel better. She’s thorough, clinical. Every single feather gets attention. She uses her lips to tug them back into place or pull out the broken bits. She licks and grooms the bleeding and the bruised. She does the other side. There’s a pile of bloody, broken feathers when she’s done that she just makes it disappear.

“Roll over?” she asks. So, I do.

With the same focus, she attends to the show side of my wings, gently rearranging feathers so the broken shafts won’t show as much, using her tongue to work the strained muscles, so they bend and flex. Slowly, she works my wings closed. For the first time, I think maybe they aren't totally broken. Maybe I'll be able to fly again someday. I don’t know how I feel about that.

She turns her attention to the joints. Her muzzle massages the tender bones, carefully biting with just enough pressure to create a relieving pop on both sides. Then she brushes my coat again. It still doesn’t do what I really want it to, but having her try is good. It’s like she wants to brush off the bruises too.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

“Your wings will cover up some of the bruising,” she says carefully. “But not enough.”

“Where?” I ask raising my head. I haven’t looked in a mirror, but I don’t need to to know that there’s no way I’m going to be able to hide what happened.

“Here,” she says gesturing to my neck where he choked me. She’s careful not to touch me. “And here.” This time she softly slides her hoof across the part of my ribs my wings don’t cover. “Here,” she says looking at my flank. I think that’s it, but there is one more “here” as she touches the tip of her muzzle to the middle of my back where he put his hoof and shoved my face into the dirt.

“How torn up am I?” I don’t know how to ask the question any better. Thank Celestia, Rarity understands.

“If you don’t move your tail much, you should be ok. I fear I caused more damage when I-” The words catch like she’s about to choke on them and vomit. I hear all the stuff she’s been fighting back bubble up in her throat. I look up and see something I’ve seen only a couple of other times in my life, Rarity’s eyes, wide in pain and shame, filling with tears- and not the fake dramatic kind- the kind that pull up from somewhere in her soul and leak out before she can stop them.

I reach for her. Her ears fold back at my touch. Some of the shame gets shoved off her face back into the box it came from, but it won’t stay there. It springs back to her eyes even stronger than before. I reach a foreleg around her shoulders, and she collapses into to me. “I’m sorry, darling,” she sobs into my chest.

“It’s ok, Rare,” I say wrapping my legs around her.

“May I?” she asks, her hooves twitching toward me again.

“Please.” I’m so sore, but the truth is that the only thing I want right now is to have her hold me, so I can focus on her and try to forget everything else. So, I nod. Her legs wrap around me carefully. Eventually, when neither of us are sobbing anymore, we lean back into the pillows. Just as the sun’s rays start to peek through the window, I let myself surrender to sleep.

Chapter 3: Thursday- Disclosures

I don’t sleep long, maybe a couple of hours. I wake up confused. Did I finally pass out? Where did Mac go? Everything hurts. I hurt in places I didn’t know I could feel things. My entire face hurts. I know I won’t be able to see out of one of my eyes because it’s swollen shut. The scent of laundry and shampoo hits my nose, and I realize that I’m holding onto Rarity like a life preserver. Now I remember where I am and why I’m here. Big Mac raped me. Rarity stopped him. Now I’m with Rarity, and she’s keeping me safe

I try to take a deep breath and my chest screams in pain making me flinch.

“Dashie?” Rare kind of flutters around me like she wants to help but doesn’t know how.

“I’m ok,” I scratch out. My throat hurts.

“Did you sleep?” I ask through the tightness around my vocal cords. All the muscles of my neck are sore, but there are bands across my neck that are even sorer than the rest. Those are the places he choked me.

“No,” she answers simply. It makes me feel better to know that she’s been watching over me. The tension drifts away a little bit, and I relax against her again taking shallow breaths this time.

“Thanks.” I surprise myself with how much I mean it. It’s lame, but it’s the only word I have to tell her how much I need her to stay with me and how awesome it is to be here instead of in a hospital bed.

“May I?” she asks. I don’t know what she wants, but I nod anyway. She nuzzles me- so soft right on my neck. I tense at the touch, but it isn’t bad after the first second. As she pulls away her eyes don’t have that worried look anymore. She pulls back as far as I’ll let her go. Then she grabs one of my forelegs and holds my hoof, so she can put a little more distance between us.

“Thanks,” I say again.

“Breakfast?” she offers brightly. Her voice doing that Rarity thing where sometimes it suddenly sounds like everything's just fine, even when everything is on fire.

I look out the window. The sun isn’t as high as I would’ve thought. I really didn’t sleep for very long. I don’t feel like eating. Despite the cheeriness, Rarity’s tone made it sound like I could really say no to breakfast, but the Rarity I know isn’t going to let somepony that just spent the night under her roof start the day without eating. So, I say, “Sure. Something simple, I guess.”

“I can manage toast, tea, and some other basics from here or I can go whip up some pancakes.”

The idea that she might go away freaks me out, and I pull her hoof to my chest. She can’t leave me. I don’t know where Mac is, but he probably knows where I am. All the memories are bubbling under my forced focus on Rarity. I can’t be on my own. I just can’t.

She shifts a little closer to me and leans back against the headboard, managing to casually drape her foreleg over my withers without making me let go of her hoof. Now I can rest my head on her chest. I can hear her calm, steady heartbeat; feel the smooth rise and fall of her breaths and match mine to the rhythm. My good eye stares at the fur on her chest. She didn’t get all of the mud and blood off of herself last night. Focusing on her is how I’m keeping myself from freaking out. She can’t go away. Not yet.

“Don’t worry, Dashie,” she says quietly into my ear, “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Pinkie Promise?”

She could laugh or roll her eyes, but she doesn’t even smile. She just raises her free hoof to make the promise. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Nopony outside our group really understands, but we all know that there’s nothing more serious than a Pinkie Promise.

Everything goes quiet until I hear things happening downstairs. I know what she’ll look like if I look up at her face; eyes closed, muttering silently to herself.

When the tray floats up, I ask, “How does it work?” nodding toward the food. She lifts a piece of toast to my mouth, and I take a tiny bite before she starts to answer.

“It depends on familiarity and distance,” she says taking her own bite from a second piece of toast. “In my own home, certain items are simply familiar enough to command. They are always in the same place, and I understand how they function well enough to govern them without watching them.”

“Like your sewing machine?” I say automatically.

“Precisely.” I almost smile at the shock in her voice. I didn’t know that I knew that either. But, there’s this picture in my head of Rarity measuring me for something, but I can still hear the sewing machine in the next room. I remember thinking the sound was kind of annoying. I think it's a memory of the first time we all went to the Gala. Rarity’s mane is all messy in the memory, and she has bags under her eyes.

I take another bite of toast and a sip of the tea she offers me. It’s a different flavor than last night. I like this one better, but it’s still just tea. Nothing special. Then, I nod for her to continue.

“Certain spaces are familiar although the objects within those spaces change, like my icebox or pantry. For those, it’s less about pre-formulating a magical process and more about sensing what my options might be. I can pick something up and get an approximate sense of its size, shape, and weight. Then, based on my own knowledge of what I may have picked up, I can try to manipulate the object.

“For example.” She levitates an orange off the tray and peels it. “I wasn’t certain that this was an orange until I saw it, which is why I didn’t try and peel it before bringing it up here. As you can see, peeling an orange by magic isn’t difficult, but trying to peel an apple that one thinks is an orange is nearly impossible- which isn’t to say that I haven’t tried to do that very thing on more than one occasion.”

I almost smile again. It’s good to listen to her talk. I want her to keep talking, which isn’t a thing that’s ever happened before. “What happens if you pick something up and you’re wrong?” I ask.

“In the case of mistaken fruit, usually nothing. I discover my mistake and usually go to the kitchen to collect the item I wanted. Or, I make due with what I have. Fruit is really no matter. For something more significant, say I’ve set the sewing machine to a task and I’ve calculated something wrong, then I often have to begin again. There are magical fixes for certain blunders, but I tend to prefer spending time doing the work rather than researching the magical method of correction.”

There’s silence for a few minutes, except for the sounds of us chewing or me slurping my tea. I want her to talk again, but I can only think of one question, and I’m not sure I want to know the answer. “So, you can feel stuff with your magic?”

“Depending on what I’m doing, yes.”

“Could you feel him?” I ask softly.

Her ears fold flat against her head, and she looks down at me. “Yes,” she whispers back.

“What did he feel like?” My eyes are trained on a spot on her chest where I’m trying to flick away a tiny clump of mud she missed.

“Remember that boulder Discord tricked me into thinking was a diamond?”

“Tom?” Part of me wants to laugh at the memory, but I can’t. “Yeah.”

“He felt like a thousand Toms.” Her words are heavy and sad. I can feel the tears running down her face and into my mane now. “I thought I heard something outside,” she continues, her voice choking and the pitch rising, “but I wrote it off as a passing pony or an animal. Yet, I knew something was amiss. I could feel it. I lingered in the shop waiting for something. I thought I heard something again. I looked out the window. I couldn’t see you. I nearly gave up and went to bed.” She shakes her head. “Then I heard you scream and I knew.”

“Rare, I’m not sure I want to hear this.”

“Please,” she begs. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to face you if I don’t tell you the truth.”

I need her. I know there are other ponies that would want to help me, but something about everything that’s happened means that I don’t want them to. Rarity is it. She’s the pony I trust with this, and she says she needs to tell me something so she can help me. Maybe it’s something I don’t want to know, but if it’s what it takes to have her stay with me, then I guess I have to handle it. So, I nod.

“Thank you, Rainbow,” she sighs. Then she takes another sip of tea while she collects her thoughts. “I tried to intervene the moment I understood.” her voice is hollow and apologetic now. “I didn’t know enough. You were hidden from view. I miscalculated. So, my first attempt did nothing. The second I saw him, I tried again, but…”

“It was Big Mac.”

“Yes,” she whispers, squeezing me at the acknowledgment. “I underestimated his size, and I was too far away. I’m so sorry, Rainbow. I should have been there so much sooner. Perhaps if I’d investigated the moment I heard something... I’m so desperately sorry for not coming to you sooner.” We’re both crying again. She’s whispers over and over again that she’s sorry.

“It’s ok, Rare,” I manage to say between sniffles. “Nothing was your fault.”

“Oh, Rainbow. I was so foolish. I ought to have trusted my instincts. I knew. I knew something was wrong and I did nothing. I-”

“You couldn’t have known, Rare,” I cut her off. “This is Ponyville. Nopony would expect something like this here. Plus, wandering around in the dark when there are weird noises is just stupid.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says one more time into my mane.

I sit up and raise a hoof to her chin, so she’s looking at me. “You saved me,” I say. “I don’t think he was going to be one and done. You saved me from something worse. Thank you.”

She dips her chin and presses her forehead to mine. I close my eyes and let everything drift. There’s just that one spot- the place where my world is steady. The rest of me is devastated, and broken, and a thousand other bad things; but that one spot feels safe.

“I almost killed him,” she whispers. “I could have crushed him into nothing. I could have gored him on the top of The Boutique and not felt any guilt.”

I’ve never heard Rarity talk like that, but there’s no doubting what she’s saying. She thought about it. She could have done it, but she didn’t. I’m glad she didn’t. I’m not sure what the fallout of all of this is going to be, but it definitely would have been worse if she killed him.

“I didn’t realize it was you until after I moved him.” The venom in her voice is replaced with so much guilt it almost makes me wince. ”And when I did I didn't care who he was… I wanted him dead.”

I shift up and wrap my legs around her, clinging to her again, and she clings right back. Her mane is still back in the messy ponytail from our middle of the night shower. It’s frizzy and it tickles my nose. So, I bury my face in her neck and cry myself into another exhausted sleep.

Somepony pounds on a door downstairs and I jerk awake. My wings try to flare in surprise, sending pain through each and every one of my nerves like an electric shock. Rarity jumps up and presses her head to mine, trying to get me to focus on what’s real, but the pony at the door pounds again and I instinctively crouch and start looking for a place to hide.

She crouches with me and looks me right in the eyes. “Rainbow, you are safe,” she says firmly. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand?”

I nod at her, even though I don’t believe her. My heart is racing like I just sprinted for an hour. I’m shaking. My wings keep twitching painfully. My gut says it’s time to run, but run where? This is my safe place.

“I’ll just go make some explanation and get them to go away,” she says quickly, her eyes darting to the door then back to me. “Alright?”

I don’t want her to go, but I really don’t want anypony busting in here. If anypony can get whoever it is downstairs to go away, it’s Rarity. So, I force a nod and say, “Yeah, ok.”

“I’ll only be a moment, Dash. I promise.” Then she’s gone.

I grab one of her pillows and crawl to the far side of the bed away from the door. I plunge my muzzle into the pillow trying to focus on her scent, and the silky smooth feel of the fabric, anything to keep me grounded and stave off the panic of being alone.

I’m alone, but I don’t feel alone, and I hate it. I’m not sure I’ll ever really feel alone again. Without Rarity to focus on, it’s like Mac is in the room taking up all the space and crushing me so I can't move. The persistent pounding at the door blends with the sound of his grunts and his voice telling me to take it like a mare.

I hear the door open downstairs.

“Oh, hello Applejack. This is an unexpected visit.” Rare’s voice is perfect. Her performance is flawless. She sounds happy to see AJ, but maybe like she’s busy or something, and that’s why she isn’t inviting Applejack in for tea.

“Uh, hiya Rarity. You seen Rainbow Dash? Weather team says she missed work today. S’not like her. We met up at the bar last night, but ain’t nopony seen hide nor hair of her today. Fluttershy even looked up at the house. Said Dash must not have been there since yesterday mornin’.”

“Oh, Rainbow is upstairs, darling.” This time Rare says it like a throwaway like it’s no big deal.

“She’s what now?”

“Rainbow is upstairs sleeping. She had a bad night and slept here.”

“Dash slept here?” I can almost see AJ waving an incredulous hoof around at The Boutique. “She ok? Can I see her?”

“No, you may not.” Rare’s voice is firm this time, absolute. “As I’ve said she’s sleeping, and I believe she needs her rest. You may call off the search, but I’ll not disturb her.”

I’m not sure I can handle seeing anypony right now, least of all AJ. I don’t know how I’ll ever look that mare in the eyes again. I close my eyes tight, even though it hurts the swollen one, and say a silent thanks to the four winds for the fact that Rarity is the only pony in Ponyville more stubborn than Applejack. When Rare uses that tone, we all know there’s no getting around it.

“Well, alright then. But I’m tellin’ you right now that if I don’t see RD by this time tomorrow I’m breakin’ the door down.”

“That won’t be necessary, and threats certainly aren’t. We are friends, are we not?”

“You’re the one actin’ like you got secrets to keep, Rarity.”

“Perhaps I am. A lady does have her secrets. Until tomorrow, then.”

The door closes. I hear the icebox open and close, then Rarity climbing the stairs. Two frosty bottles of hard cider are floating in front of her.

“Would you like one?” She offers me a bottle that’s shaking in her magic. I can see why AJ didn’t believe Rarity’s cool, calm, and collected routine. Rare doesn’t look like herself. She brushed her mane out while I was sleeping, but it’s just a spruced up version of bedmane. It’s mid-morning on a weekday and Rarity just answered the door looking like she just rolled out of bed. Even I probably would’ve noticed something was off.

“Nah, I’m good.”

She downs a whole bottle of cider in one long chug, which helps her stop shaking. Then she takes a dainty sip from the second bottle before sitting on the bed again. That’s when I realize that I’m shaking too. I take a careful breath, as deep as I can without making myself tear up, and carefully climb up on the bed next to her.

“Thanks for covering, Rares.”

“Of course, darling. I’ll reinforce the door, in case Applejack was serious about trying to break it down. You don’t have to see anypony you don’t want to until you’re ready.”

“I should probably talk to Fluttershy. She’s probably freaking out about now.”

“Yes, I imagine she is. Do you feel up to seeing her?”

I have to think about this. Shy is my oldest friend, but seeing me like this… She can handle it, but I don’t know what she’ll do. She might want to take me home, but I’m not leaving unless Rarity makes me.

“Not really.” I shrug then grab the cider bottle from Rarity’s hooves and take a little sip. “But I don’t have a choice. It’s Shy.”

“You do have a choice, darling. I’ll be damned and banished to the moon for a thousand years before I let another choice be taken from you.” She’s being dramatic, but she’s also being serious. It’s easy to believe that she’ll protect me and keep everypony away from me if I ask her to.

“Thanks, Rare.” I take a second to think it through again. “I’m not ready, but I want to see Fluttershy. Life’s bad enough without knowing she’s worried. Maybe Pinkie too. Not Applejack. I can’t see AJ.”

“Very well then.”

“How-”

“Opalescence!” Rarity sings out and rings a tiny bell on her bedside table. The demon cat comes shyly into the room and gingerly hops up on the bed. I’ve literally never tried to touch Opal before because I like having all of my hooves, but she comes right up to me and carefully rubs against me purring softly.

“Heh, thanks, Opal.”

The fluffball gives me one more little nuzzle then moves over to Rarity. Rares has a pen in her magic and is writing a note on a piece of fancy stationery. She folds the note, seals it, then ties it to Opal's collar. “Fluttershy,” she says clearly and a little treat floats into Opal’s mouth. Then the cat takes off out the window.

“That’s kinda cool.”

“She really is genius when she isn’t being a pretentious, spoiled, ungrateful, little brat.”

“Remind you of anypony?” I try to raise my eyebrow at her, but that’s the bad side of my face, and I wince a little instead.

“Not particularly, why?”

“No reason, Marshmallow. No reason.” I pause for a second and start to process the fact that Fluttershy is on her way. I’m going to have to face her in just a few minutes. “I feel like I need another shower,” I mumble and get up.

“Do you need help?”

“No. I think I got it this time,” I answer as I walk toward the bathroom. I have to look back to know she won’t leave. She’s pulled out a sketchbook from the bedside table.

“I’m not going anywhere, Rainbow,” she reassures me.

“K.” I start to turn then look back one more time.

“The exfoliating scrub is in the orange tub on the valet by the bathtub. The conditioner is in the blue bottle. The shampoo is the one with the golden flip cap.”

I leave the bathroom door open. Every few seconds, I have to look out and make sure Rarity is still there. She is. She’s just sketching and muttering to herself.

I don’t use soap. I turn the water so hot it burns because I can still feel him all over me. There’s still that slick on my belly where his cock rubbed against me. Bands of bruising around my neck and barrel feel like they’re caked in mud mixed with Essence of Mac. I keep waiting for it to feel like any of the dirt and slime is starting to slip off me and down the drain, but it doesn’t happen.

Finally, I turn the water off and look for a towel. A blue aura pulls one out of the cabinet and wraps it around me. When I’m as dry as I can get while not being able to reach all of me, because every time I start to stretch or twist a different part of my body groans in pain, I decide it’s time to test my wings again. It’s going to hurt like hell, but the worst thing for sprained wings is complete immobility. The muscles can constrict too much and never get flexible again. If I’m ever going to fly again, I’ve got to make them move. The trick is to not stretch too much or push too hard, or I’ll just make things worse.

I toss the towel in a laundry hamper and walk into the bedroom fluffing my feathers as I go. I have to bite my lip, so I don’t cry out in pain. It feels like the nerves attached to every single feather are sending back a flashing red “Stop! Stop! Stop” response to my brain, but I keep pushing for just a few more seconds.

For the first time since Mac slammed his hooves down on them, I really look at my wings. Rare did a really good job on that preen. She stopped a lot of bleeding. There are several dead feathers that are ready to be pulled out now and the rest of them look like shit, but the bruise at the base of my wing joint reminds me that it could be a lot worse.

“How do they feel?” Rarity asks.

“Beat to hell,” I answer. Slowly I flare my wings. There’s pressure and pain along every bone. I grit my teeth and hold the stretch for a few seconds, then slowly fold them back to my sides and do it again. They stretch just a little further each time and I almost chew a hole in my cheek to keep from screaming. “I’m grounded for a few weeks at least,” I finally tell her in a breathless voice.

“Will you please have a doctor examine them?” she pleads.

“Maybe.” I nod. “If I can come up with a good enough story.”

She huffs at me. She doesn’t like that answer, but she isn’t going to push it right now. I climb back on the bed with my wings out and try to let them relax. She’s looking at them, cataloging the feathers that are ready to be pulled out.

“Will you stay here until they’re better?”

I can’t tell if she’s inviting me, asking me to stay, or wondering if I want to stay. The answer is the same no matter what. “If you’re ok with it, then yeah.”

“Of course. To be perfectly honest, I really wouldn’t be comfortable with you going anywhere else at this point. Unless you wanted to, of course.”

There’s a ridiculously soft knock at the window. The window is open. Flutters just knocked to be nice. She’s carrying Opal who hops out of Shy’s hooves and onto the bed. Rarity gives the cat another treat before the fluffball comes to sit next to me. If Shy didn’t already know something was wrong, she sure does now. Opal’s never this nice to anypony.

“D-Dashie?”

I can’t. I can’t look at her. I can’t look at those teal eyes and watch her cry. I can’t watch her look at dark spots all over me and figure out exactly what happened. I look like a stupid warning poster mares see in bathrooms at nightclubs. The ones where you never see the mare’s face, just a body covered in bruises and the words No means no. No stallion has the right to force you. If your stallion is forcing you to have sex contact your local blah blah blah. I can’t be seen like that.

So, I pet Opal. I scratch behind her ears and run my hoof along her back.

Shy just stands in the window staring at me.

Rarity shifts a little closer to me and waves to a spot at the end of the bed. “Why don’t you sit down, Fluttershy?”

It takes her a second, but after a couple of false starts, Flutters steps up onto the bed. With a different vantage point to take in the bruises from now, I’m sure there’s more for her to see. So, I just keep petting Opal until she decides she’s had enough, gets up, and runs her back under my chin flicking my nose softly with her tail.

“Thanks again, Opal,” I say quietly. Then, the cat hops off the bed and walks out the door.

Shy’s voice shakes when she finally manages to speak, “D-Dashie, what happened?”

My answer is even and hollow. “What’s it look like Fluttershy?”

“It- it looks like----- It looks like somepony beat you.” She winces back into her mane with each word.

“Well, that’s not exactly what happened,” I say, staring down at Rarity’s comforter and tracing the little swooping embroidery pattern I couldn’t focus on when I was staring at it earlier.

“It-It looks like somepony raped you,” Shy whispers so quietly, that the only reason I can hear her is that the rest of the room is absolutely, perfectly, almost deathly silent.

I force myself to finally look at her face when I answer in the same empty tone because I only want to say this once. “That is exactly what happened.”

Fluttershy is about to wrap me in a hug. I flinch away from the contact that never comes. When I open my eyes, Rarity has Shy wrapped in magic. “I’m sorry, darling,” Rare says gently to Flutters. “But it seems best that we do not touch Rainbow without permission at this point.”

“S-sorry, Dashie.” Shy’s feelings aren’t hurt, but she feels guilty for making me flinch.

“It’s cool, Fluttershy. Just come at me a little slower.” She does. Slowly, she inches forward. First just reaching for me with her muzzle. I suck in a few of the deepest breaths I can manage and make myself reach out to her until our cheeks brush. I don’t lean into the contact, because I don’t want to get her dirty. All of that slime and shame I couldn’t get off in the shower is still all over me and I don’t want it touching Fluttershy.

She carefully moves to wrap her forelegs and wings around me. Part of me wants to scream for her to stop, but I hold my breath and take it. The hug is soft and careful, but the wings are too much. I feel like I can’t get away. I look at Rarity, who takes a deep breath, and I try to do the same.

“Oh, Dashie,” Fluttershy says quietly in my ear, then pulls back. She strokes my mane, then brushes a hoof across one of my wings and gasps. Only a pegasus would notice how bad things really are with them. “He-?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “Nothing’s broken too bad.”

“Dashie,” she says firmly like I’m in trouble. Her eyes move incredulously around the room, and land for one angry second on Rarity, then come back to me.

“I know. I know.” I raise a hoof defensively. “But I didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“What?” Rarity asks instantly sounding panicked and irritated that she doesn’t know what we’re talking about. “What don’t I know?”

I don’t want to tell her this. She doesn’t need to know how close it was. I don’t want her to regret listening to me and doing the generous thing of bringing me here instead of making me go to the hospital.

Fluttershy answers the question for me with an edge to her voice that I’m pretty sure Rarity has never heard before. “A good way to kill a pegasus is to stand on their wings and make them try to fly away.”

Rarity gasps in horror and shoots me an angry, but apologetic look.

Fluttershy waits to continue until Rare is looking her in the eyes again. “It’s a natural instinct for a pegasus to try and fly away if their wing gets pinned beneath something. Usually, the only price to pay is the cost of a few feathers, but this level of trauma to the wing itself---” Shy’s angry tone finally breaks into just being sad. “It would cause major internal bleeding. If even one of these breaks were more severe, Dashie could have died within minutes.”

All the blood drains out of Rarity’s face while Fluttershy is talking. Now, she’s gasping for air and reaching for me. I lean into her, and she carefully wraps her forelegs around me in a hug that is strong, but somehow painless, because she knows where not to touch me.

“I knew I should have taken you to the hospital,” she says frantically.

“I begged you not to.”

“You were in no state to-”

“I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

“I’m so sorry, Rainbow.”

“It’s cool, Rare. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Silence falls over our hug. I don’t feel the same restrained thing from when Shy hugged me earlier. For a second I felt panicked that Rare would be mad at me for not telling her how bad I was really hurt, but now I just feel safe again. She isn’t mad at me and I’m not mad at her. My safe place is still safe.

“Can I-?” Fluttershy whispers.

“Yeah, Shy. Come join the pony pile.”

A split second after I feel Flutters wings wrap around both me and Rarity, I hear Pinkie from the window. “Did somepony say pony pile?”

I laugh, a real honest to goodness laugh that makes me want to cry because it just feels so wrong. I can almost hear Rarity roll her eyes, and that makes want to laugh too. But before Rare can give Pinkie the speech about not touching me, I say, “Yeah, Pinks. Just be careful about it ok?”

The three of us get swept up in a big soft embrace that smells like cupcakes and balloons. Pinkie only holds on for a second and then lets go. “What’s going on Dashie?”

I hate it when Pinkie Pie sounds like that. Her voice wasn’t made for sounding sad or worried, so when it happens it’s absolutely gut-wrenching. I don’t want to tell Pinkie this. I wish she could go on living in a happy world where this never happened to me, but she’s my best friend and she’ll never forgive me if I try to lie to her. Plus, it’s not like I could hide it anyway- it’s all over my face. Literally.

Luckily, Rarity does the hard part for me. “Rainbow was attacked, Pinkie,” she says carefully. She’s being clear, because she wants Pinkie to understand, but she’s being gentle. This is the kind of thing that we all try to protect Pinkie from as much as possible. “She was raped.”

“What?” Pinkie’s confused response is automatic. “No. Not Rainbow Dash. Dashie’s the toughest, fastest, most awesome pony there is. No silly stallion could-”

While Pinkie was talking, Rarity and Fluttershy were letting go of our hug. Now, Pinkie can see the bruises. Pinkie’s no idiot. The truth is, she’s probably at least as smart as Twilight with much faster processing speed. After she looks me over, our eyes meet, and I watch her denial disappear as the color drains out of her and her mane does that thing where goes all flat.

“Dashie?” Her eyes are full of tears, but there’s this glimmer of hope that I’m about to tell her this is all just a cruel joke. I wish I could.

“Yeah, Pinks. It really happened.”

I try not to cry. Fluttershy has seen me cry a million times, even though I’d never ever admit it to anypony, but Pinkie… well, she just said it. For Pinkie, I’m Rainbow Dash: awesome element bearer of coolness; not, Rainbow Dash: beaten, broken, mounted, piece of shit, that can’t defend herself against one lousy stallion. I feel so dirty crying in front of Pinkie.

A white hoof reaches for me, and I take it. “Thanks, Rares.”

“Can I hug you again?” Pinkie asks quietly. It’s another real question. I could say no, but I won’t. My best friend needs a hug. I’m not going to tell her no.

“Yeah, Pinks. Sure.”

The same warm, soft hug wraps around me and holds me for longer this time. Pinkie’s strong smell of baked goods makes it a little easier to be close to her, because I can try and focus on figuring out what she was making this morning. The hug is just starting to get uncomfortable when Rarity gives a little cough and Pinkie lets me go. Then she suddenly stands up and says in a voice that’s way too cheerful, even for Pinkie, “Does anypony want something to eat?”

She needs a minute. She doesn’t want to be anything but smiles for me right now. It’s totally Pinkie. She isn’t going to let me see her freak out.

“I’d kill for a sandwich,” I say, if only to give her a reason to go take a break. “And some cider.”

“I’ll help you with it,” Fluttershy says.

“Thank you, darlings,” Rarity quietly mumbles as they leave.

Before I can stop to think about it, I’m there pressing myself into Rarity’s soft white coat again. The hugs from Fluttershy and Pinkie freaked me out- they were for them, not me. Hugging Rarity isn’t like that. I know it should be weird, but I don’t care. Everything is all blown to hell, but there’s Rarity. So, maybe, just maybe, things are going to be ok.

“I should have known. I’m sorry,” she whispers again.

“I didn’t tell you, and you don’t have wings,” I answer. “I didn’t want to go to the hospital. I wouldn’t have gone if you tried to make me. You took really good care of me. There’s nothing different they could have done.”

She pauses and says carefully, “You know that we have to report this, Rainbow. He could have killed you.”

“You think he knows that? Or that he cares? Because I don’t.”

“I think he knows he raped you. If he doesn’t know that you could have died, then he certainly needs to. Frankly, it doesn’t matter to me what he knows. If you don’t report this, the fool may strike again against another mare.”

“Another gay mare.”

“What?”

“He said he wanted to help me. He said that he’d show me that I would like stallions if I gave them a chance.” I feel Rarity shudder beneath me. She’s bisexual and has been open about it for as long as I’ve known her. She grew up in Ponyville, which is one of the most open-minded places in Equestria. Ponies just don’t talk like that here.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she says pressing a kiss to my head.

Pinkie and Fluttershy are trying to hold it together when they come back, but it’s easy to see that they were both crying downstairs. Their cheeks are dry, but there are little track marks from the tears they didn't want me to see. Pinkie’s mane is still all straight, but she seems a little pinker than she was when she left, so that’s good. They each have a tray propped on their back with some sandwiches, a salad, and cider.

Rarity doesn’t let me go. She just uses her magic to open a bottle of cider and offers it to me. Yesterday, I would have thought being fed like this was mushy and weird. Today, I want to tell her thank you for not making me let her go long enough to feed myself.

Pinkie and Fluttershy settle on the bed in front of us. “Ca- Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, Shy,” I answer.

“Why are you here?”

I hear Rarity breathe in to begin explaining, but I want to, because I know Flutters is bugged that I’m here instead of at the hospital. “Rare found me,” I say. “She heard me scream and came to help me.”

“Too little, too late,” Rarity says quietly.

“You came as soon as you could, Marshmallow. Let it go.”

“We both know that isn’t true,” Rarity retorts.

“You mean, you knew Dashie was in trouble, and you didn’t go help right away?” Pinkie asks, obviously not believing that could be true.

“I didn’t know it was Rainbow. But, I heard something, and I knew something was amiss. I looked out the window, but couldn’t see anything. I should have gone to check.” Rare sounds just like she did before, ashamed of herself for doing the smart thing and staying in her house when she heard things go bump in the night.

“You couldn’t have known,” I say again. “The second you knew, you came to help.”

“D- do you know who did it?” Fluttershy sounds like she might not really want to know the answer to that question. Ponyville is a small town, and our group is kind of the center of a lot of things. I’m sure Shy already figures that she knows whoever did it, even if they aren’t friends.

Rarity and I trade glances. Mac is a Ponyville Apple. You don’t just get to call him a rapist and leave it at that. But, Rares is right. I have to report this. I won’t let this happen to anypony else. I’d go through it again before making somepony else his victim. So, they’re going to find out anyway.

Rare must see the decision in my face, because she gives me a nod and a little squeeze of encouragement. I sigh and turn to look right at Fluttershy. “Mac,” I say.

Flutters takes in a sharp breath. Pinkie doesn’t believe it and asks, “Who?”

“Big Mac,” I say again, stronger this time. “I was hanging out at the bar last night with AJ and some ponies from the weather team. He was there too, I guess. When I left, Mac was outside. He kept trying to talk to me. Asked me out. When I said no thanks, he got in my face. Asked if I’d ever given stallions a chance. I said I didn’t need to and started walking. We ended up in the market. That’s where it happened.”

“Rarity?” Fluttershy asks.

“As I said, I heard something but couldn’t determine its origin. I stayed down in the shop listening, because I had a distinct impression that something was amiss. Then I heard a scream. At first, I had no idea what I was seeing. I tried to pull him off, but it wasn’t enough.”

“Well, yeah,” Pinkie interjected. “Big Mac is BIG.”

“Then she threw him at least 40 feet,” I say, honestly impressed now that I think about it.

“The first time,” Rare chimes in almost talking to herself. “I threw him a lot farther the second time. It took everything in my power not to murder him right then and there.”

“Maybe you should have,” Fluttershy says bitterly.

“Shy!” I say.

“What?” She snaps back at me with a glare. “Dashie, he could have killed you! You could be pregnant! He had no right to take something from you like that, and I hope he answers for what he’s done. I’m not going to pretend to feel differently.

“Applejack is a dear friend, and I don’t feel any differently about her than I ever have, but if I see Big Macintosh, then I’m going to give him the stare of his life and tell him to go into that big red barn and castrate himself. It’s what I’d do to any animal that couldn’t keep it to himself.”

“Yeah,” Pinkie joins in with a ferocity in her voice that reminds me she knows how to pound rocks into dust. “Nopony messes with Dashie. Nopony!”

Seeing Fluttershy and Pinkie like this is just so messed up. They don't get mad. They don't threaten ponies. It's just so wrong. I look at Rarity helplessly, but she’s as nonplussed as I am.

“You need to tell Twilight,” Fluttershy says after a few minutes of tense silence.

“Twilight?” I ask. “Can’t I tell, oh I don’t know, anypony else?”

I don’t want to tell Twilight, because I have no idea how she’ll react. She might be awesome, and supportive, and say all the right things to make me feel better. Or, there’s a good chance that she’ll start by asking me a bunch of questions and then making a list of things to do like talking to the police and going to the hospital. Basically, a list of shit I really don’t want to deal with right now.

“She’s right, darling,” Rarity says. She still has a foreleg over my back. “You know this will go to her anyway. I won’t be surprised if she defers it to Luna or Celestia, but the Mayor won’t pass judgment here, and the town magistrate won’t even hear rape charges, let alone attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder?” I ask.

“Attempted ponyslaughter at least,” Fluttershy confirms. “Definitely attempted murder in Cloudsdale.”

“Also, you won’t get pregnant,” Rarity says in a quiet, but determined voice.

“You can’t know that,” I reply forlornly. That thought has been running around in the back of my brain like a wounded rat that just won’t die.

“Yes, darling. I can. I do.” She shifts to look at me. “When I teleported you up here last night, I took the opportunity to perform a little contraceptive charm. Nothing invasive, but absolutely effective. I apologize for not asking your permission. The thought didn’t occur to me until I was in the middle of weaving the teleportation, and I didn’t want to break focus to ask.”

I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe I should be pissed off that she did magic on me without asking, but if she’d asked I don’t know how I would’ve reacted. So, I just nuzzle her and say, “Thanks, Rares,”

She sighs too, probably grateful I’m not mad at her. “Of course, darling.”

“Do I really have to talk to Twilight?”

“So it would seem.”

“Is she even in town?”

“Yeah,” Pinkie chimes in. “She just got back from Canterlot yesterday. I threw her a welcome back breakfast, but you two missed it. That’s what started everypony keeping an eye out for you.”

“Do you mind going to to get her, Pinks? I’d rather talk here than do some formal thing at the castle.”

“Sure. No problem.” Pinkie takes off out the window. Rarity’s horn glows.

“What are you doing?” Fluttershy asks.

“Removing the reinforcements on the door,” Rarity answers with a shrug.

“Applejack threatened to kick it down,” I add.

“When are you going to tell her?” Shy asks me.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “Not yet. I can’t.”

Fluttershy just nods, and I let myself relax against Rarity again while we wait in silence. Shy’s eyes are careful and worried as she watches us. I know that it’s weird for her to see me and Rare like this.

It’s must be weird for Rare too. I’m sure she sees the worried look on Fluttershy’s face as her eyes dart back and forth between us, but it doesn’t seem like Rarity cares. She just takes a bottle of cider in her magic, chills it, takes a sip, then offers me the same bottle. It’s ice-cold, just a little slushy. It’d be delicious if I could taste it.

When Twilight shows up, it only takes her half a second to snap into Princess Mode. It’s exactly as bad as I thought it could be. She asks Rarity for a scroll of parchment and some ink so she can start taking notes. The others keep trying to snap her out of it, but Twi won’t listen. She just keeps saying that we have to report this immediately to The Princess.

First, she makes me stand up, so she can make a list of my injuries. She does everything but count the feathers I’m missing and look under my tail. And the only reason Twilight doesn’t look under my tail is that Rarity finally yells at her and points at the tears streaming down my muzzle. “Can’t you see how much this is bothering her!”

Twi mumbles an apology and moves on to asking questions. She asks me exactly what happened two or three times. If I try to explain something even a little bit differently than I did the first time she asked, she pounces and asks me which version of this story is the right one. It sucks, but I figure it’s better just to let her do her thing once. Maybe then my egghead friend will crawl out from under that stupid crown and ask if I’m ok.

Instead, when she’s done asking me questions, she turns on Rarity. One of her lavender eyes starts to twitch a little bit when Rarity says that she teleported us back here. It takes Twi a full minute to pull herself together and ask her next question, and another, and another, and another.

Finally, Rarity says sternly, “Twilight, that’s enough.”

We’re all shocked when Twilight doesn’t argue. She rolls all the scrolls together and walks down to the kitchen to have Spike send them to the Princess. He’s hanging out downstairs, because Twilight doesn’t think he should see me like this.

Spike calls after Twilight with Celestia’s answer before Twi even gets back to the top of the stairs.

Tell Rainbow Dash to take care. We will deal with this tomorrow. Guards have been sent to collect the perpetrator.

~Celestia

“Shit!” I yell, and the whole room flinches.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“We need to tell AJ before guards just show up at Sweet Apple Acres. Dammit!”

“Would you like me to do it?” Twilight asks. “It would be an official notification. I couldn’t give any details except the charges.”

I’m about to tell her no, because I don’t want Applejack getting the same formal treatment that Rarity and I have for the last hour and a half, then Twilight adds a little sheepishly “As a friend, I would tell her that you just aren’t ready to talk to her yet.”

“I can go with you Twilight,” Fluttershy offers. “This isn’t going to be easy for anypony.”

“Have you calmed down enough to do that, Fluttershy?” Rarity asks. It's a legitimate question; if anypony is going to lose their cool and do something stupid right now, it feels like it will probably be Shy. She seems to have the most rage about all of it.

“I-I think so,” Fluttershy answers after thinking about it for a few seconds. “I don’t think Twilight will let me do anything I’ll regret.”

“Well, we’d better get going if we’re going to beat the guards,” Twi says as she jumps up. Then she gives me a quick hug without asking. “I promise I'll be more of a friend when I get back.”

“You’re good, Twi,” I say, mostly so that she’ll let me go. Shy gives me a quick nuzzle, then they both take off out the window.

“I’m really sorry, Dashie,” Pinkie says standing up and moving to follow them out the window. “But I need to go help the Cakes for a little while. I’ll come back as soon as I can, if that’s ok,”

I look at Rarity, for the first time realizing that my drama has totally taken over her life and her house today. She just nods and says, “of course.” That gets Pinkie to smile.

“I’ll bring you guys some treats when I come back!” She zooms over and kisses each of us on the cheek and disappears.

“Hey Marshmallow?” I ask as we deflate into the bed.

I hear her roll her eyes at me, and that almost makes me smile. “Yes, Rainbow.”

“Can we just sleep for a while?”

“Of course.”

Chapter 4: Thursday- Getting Ready

A door clicks shut, and low voices wake me up. The flare of panic fades quickly this time. I didn’t get to sleep very long, so it’s easier to remember where I am. I can’t understand what Twilight and Fluttershy are saying in their worried voices, but I don’t really care. I’m tired and sore, and I really don’t want to talk about what happened anymore- especially if Twilight is just going to ask me more questions.

Rare must have heard my breath hitch when I woke up because she asks quiet enough that only I’ll be able to hear, “Shall I ask them to leave?”

“No,” I sigh. “Maybe I’ll just pretend to be asleep if that’s cool.”

“Of course, darling.”

She’s laying next to me with her sketchbook open again. I have just enough time to close the little gap between us and shut my eyes. She tenses a little, then runs a hoof gently through my mane just as there’s a quiet knock at the door.

“May we come in?” Twilight asks hesitantly.

“Yes, of course, darlings. We’re just resting. I believe Rainbow may have fallen asleep though.” Rares answers smoothly, and I silently thank Celestia that Rarity is the best liar I know. “How did it go?”

“As well as could be expected,” Twilight says. I hear a door open, then two soft plops, then Twi and Shy laying down. Rares must have got some cushions out of her closet. I’m glad it’s just going to be me and Rarity on the bed for now. I’m still on edge from having Twilight treat me like a suspect or a science experiment earlier.

“Thank you,” Fluttershy says politely.

“No trouble at all, darling,” Rarity answers. “Twilight, you were saying…”

“Oh, yes,” Twilight sounds like she was distracted and Rarity just brought her back to the present, but she goes on matter of factly, “We got there just in time. Applejack and Mac were in the barn. I had just enough time to explain the charges before the guards arrived to take him away.”

“He didn’t even try to deny it,” Fluttershy says with the same venom she had before they left. Apparently, seeing Mac carted off by guards didn’t make her feel any better.

“How’s Applejack?” Rarity asks quickly.

Fluttershy sighs and sounds a lot more like herself this time. “In shock.”

“It sounded like she might have been trying to get some answers out of him when we got there,” Twilight adds. “She was yelling something as we walked up. She wanted to come back with us to check on Dash. I think it hurt her feelings when we told her that Rainbow didn’t want to see her yet, but she’s trying to be understanding.”

Rarity nods. “Poor dear, what all this mess must be doing to her…” Rare’s words hang heavy in the air for long enough that I start to think about trying to sleep again to get away from the weight of everything, but then she says, “What happens now?”

“There will be a hearing,” Twi answers mechanically. “Maybe two. Celestia sent a checklist of things we need to do. Rainbow needs to see a doctor as soon as possible. You’ll both probably want to talk to attorneys. Guards will be coming by to take your statements again. Dash shoul-”

“Was the report we gave to you insufficient in some way?” Rare’s voice is mostly innocent when she stops Twilight from repeating all the things on my new ‘To-do’ list, but she also sounds a little defensive. She doesn’t want to answer all the same questions again any more than I do.

“Celestia wants to make sure that any potential conflicts of interest are dealt with from the start,” Twi explains. “Big Mac didn’t resist when the guards took him away, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to mount a defense in court. If he does, having the evidence collected by objective third parties will be critical. Celestia is recusing herself from the case for the same reason. The whole situation will be handled by a judicial panel.”

“That seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?” Rare asks.

“Perhaps,” Twilight replies, “but it’s better to be cautious. The whole process will be a lot more unpleasant for everypony if it has to be repeated because of an error or a successful appeal.”

“If you say so, Twilight.” Rarity sounds bugged, and I totally get why. Celestia could just deal with this, and it could all be over. I get what Twilight’s saying too though, even if sucks. Having the Princess do an end-run around all the court stuff might just make a bigger mess for everypony if Mac decides to be a jerk. And since he was a big enough jerk to rape me, that doesn’t seem like as much of a stretch as it used to.

“Wh- what will happen to him?” Fluttershy asks in a low voice.

“He’ll be behind bars in Canterlot until the hearing,” Twilight explains. “If everything goes perfectly, then a sentence will be handed down the day of trial, which could happen in as little as a month, and he’ll be there for at least five years. That’s not a very likely scenario though.”

“Why not?” I’m pretty sure Shy just stomped her hoof, and she sounds even more pissed off than she did a minute ago. Her tone makes me and Rarity both flinch.

“Any decent defense attorney is going to say that they weren’t given enough time to prepare a proper defense,” Twi’s still using that matter of fact tone she always uses when she explains stuff.

“What defense could he possibly offer?” Rare fires back acidly.

“I can think of two or three possibilities,” Twi mumbles sounding a little flustered.

“Isn’t there any chance he’ll just confess?” Fluttershy chimes in.

“Fair point, Fluttershy,” Rarity echoes. “We are talking about Applejack’s brother after all.”

There’s a pause and I risk opening my good eye just a little to watch Twilight shaking her head at her fidgeting hooves. “I don’t know,” she finally says.

“Yes,” Rare sighs. “I suppose we can’t rely on our impressions of him as much as we might have in the past.”

“Exactly,” Twilight says.

“He really gets to avail himself of the full legal system?” Rarity asks after another long pause.

“Of course he does, Rarity,” Twilight answers, frustrated. “And there are enough problems with this case already that he may have a reasonable chance of being let go on probation.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Rare doesn’t do much to hide being defensive this time.

“I mean that Dash’s failure to report this right away may cause some problems,” Twilight snaps back. “Not to mention that it’s going to be pretty hard to convince anypony that Big Mac did this. I’m struggling to believe it. So, unless Mac decides just to take responsibility for what happened, Rainbow’s whole version of events is going to be torn apart.”

“That’s bullshit, Twilight, and you know it,” Fluttershy says.

“No, it isn’t,” I say as I sit up. It doesn’t matter that she just said exactly what I was thinking. Hearing her talk like that makes me mad. Shy doesn’t curse. She definitely doesn’t swear at her friends. After everything else Mac took from me, he doesn’t get to mess up Fluttershy too.

“How can you say that, Dashie? He ra-”

“Raped me? Yeah, I know that Fluttershy.” I’m angry, and I’m not trying to hide it. “Guess what? You aren’t the only one that’s mad about it and hearing you go off about it like that isn’t helping.”

Shy’s ears fold back flat against her head.

“Hey,” Twilight puffs up instantly in Shy’s defense, even though she was just as close to actually arguing with Fluttershy as anypony except me ever gets. “Fluttershy didn’t do anything wrong. She just-.”

I know Twi is right about Fluttershy not doing anything wrong, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve been fighting to stay numb since the moment I realized Rarity wasn’t going to let anything else bad happen to me, but now I’m mad. I’m mad at both of them for looking at me with the same condescending expression. I’m mad at Twilight for making it sound like Fluttershy has some excuse to turn into a jerk because of what happened to me. I’m mad because I understand why Mac gets to defend himself, and there’s a part of my brain that is racing to figure out if I did do something wrong to set him off. I’m mad because there is a raging part of me that says all of this is my fault. I’m mad because I got raped by somepony I trusted. I’m just mad.

I’m about to tell Twilight to go fuck herself, but Rarity cuts me off before I can start yelling. “I think we’ve all had enough conversation for now.” There’s no doubt about it. Marshmallow just told us all, in no uncertain terms, to shut up in her perfectly polite and controlled voice. “Twilight, is there an appointment with a doctor in place we need to keep?”

“No, I was going to ask Rainbow who she’s most comfortable seeing.”

“I don’t want to see a doctor,” I say petulantly, crossing my forelegs over my chest. I know I’m not getting out of it, but that’s not the point right now.

“I’ll take care of the arrangements,” Rarity says ignoring me.

“It needs to happen today if possible,” Twilight says.

I turn and hide from Twilight’s words in Rarity’s chest, like a foal hiding behind their mother. Rare drapes a foreleg over my shoulders but soldiers on. “What about the interviews with the guardsponies?” she asks.

“You both have to go in to the Guard Station. If you haven’t gone by the end of the day, somepony will come here to question you.” Twilight is using her ‘I’m a princess, and this is just the way it is’ voice.

Rarity answers in her ‘I’m too cool and uppity to lose my shit, but if I wasn’t then I’d be ripping a new hole in your plot’ voice: “Very well. Thank you, Twilight. I’m sorry, but I think it’s time for the two of you to go.”

Twilight and Fluttershy both balk.

“W-won’t you need some help?” Fluttershy asks looking around anxiously. She makes it seem like there’s no reason for me to be here, like the one place I want to be- the one place I feel safe- isn’t good enough or something. Plus, she’s looking at Rarity like Rare just said she was about to build an airship by herself, like there’s just no way Rare can take care of me on her own.

It makes me want to scream. I know caretaking is Shy’s thing, but she isn’t the only pony alive that can do it. I get it. If something like this happened to somepony else, Rarity isn’t who I’d expect to be in charge of things either, but Rare isn’t an idiot. She isn’t going to hurt me. She’s the only one that hasn’t made me feel bad for getting raped. Plus, just because I’m messed up doesn’t mean I couldn’t just take care of myself if I had to.

I must be shaking or something because Rarity starts rubbing my shoulder to try and calm me down. “We’ll manage,” she assures Fluttershy. “But, thank you for the offer.”

“Please just go, Shy,” My voice shakes with anger and frustration. I really don’t want to totally lose my cool in front of her or Twilight. I just want them to go away. “I’m sorry for being mean or whatever. I just…I just need you to go. Ok? I promise I’ll be ok here, Rare is taking good care of me... Maybe try coming back later.” The last sentence is a really lame consolation prize but it’s all I have to give.

Flutters looks uncomfortable, but she stands up and starts to walk out with her tail tucked between her legs and her ears flopped back against her head. “Ok,” she says in her weakest, most defeated voice.

I hate it when she does that. I can never stay mad and just let her go when she sounds like that. “Hey Shy?”

She stops and looks back at me. “Yes?”

“Can I get a hug before you go?” I really don’t want a hug, but I don’t want her to go away mad or sad.

She smiles a little and the hardness in her eyes disappears. She walks over and gives me a hug, wrapping her wings around me for a couple seconds. It’s uncomfortable and makes me feel panicky, but it’s worth it to feel like we’re ok.

Twilight is standing around looking awkward when Shy lets go. “Come on, Egghead,” I say, waving her over, then hold my breath through another hug.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight says as she squeezes me gently. “I know I-”

“It’s ok,” I cut her off, because I know I can’t handle hearing her try to make excuses. As she pulls away I add, “I’d just really like to see my buddy, Twilight Sparkle, later if she’s around.”

Twi’s ears droop. “Of course, Rainbow. I’ll see you tonight.”

Rarity was scribbling a note while Twilight was hugging me. As Twi heads toward the door, Rares levitates it over. “Twilight, will you please give this to Spike for me?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Just a little something I need his help with.”

I listen to them go down the stairs and out the door before I relax. “Thanks, Rare,” I sigh, trying to keep the irritated edge out of my voice.

Rarity nods, “She’s very worried about you, you know. Twilight as well. And if I’m not much mistaken, Fluttershy may also be feeling a bit betrayed. She and Macintosh have been friends for quite a long time.”

“No shit.” I can’t hold back the sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, Dash,” she snaps, but bites her lip and takes a deep breath before going on. Then, more gently, she adds, “I didn’t mean to belabor the obvious. I only meant to say that we’ve all be thrown by recent events and we each react to this kind of thing in our own way. Fluttershy loves you dearly. She’s devoted and protective of you. You are one of the very few ponies she feels comfortable enough with to react this way.”

Rare has a good point. Fluttershy wouldn’t be so messed up if she didn’t care about me. She’s literally the very last pony that would ever want somepony to suffer for something they did wrong. Even when I screw up royally, she doesn’t want me to freak out about it. She just tells me what I did wrong and forgives me. Then we move on. But this… what happened to me… It’s so bad that my friend, who is honestly more like my sister, wants somepony to hurt because of it. And that really does just make everything worse, because it’s not just me that’s messed up. It’s not just Rare. It’s everypony and that freaking sucks!

Anger starts rising up again and I hate it. I don’t want to be angry. I am not an angry pony. Shit happens and I get over it. I laugh about it. I can laugh off just about anything, but I can’t make myself laugh about this. I want to shrug it off. I want to say it’s no big deal, but I can’t. I don’t know what to do or how to handle all of it, and it makes me mad.

“Would you like some space?” Rare offers.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” I answer gruffly, even though space is exactly what I need and I know it. The thought of being alone and vulnerable just freaks me out too much. Plus, I don’t know how to deal with any of this. My first instinct is to go fly for a little while and just forget about all of it, but I can’t. I’m stuck on the stupid ground and I don’t know how to deal with stuff here.

“I don’t have to leave, Rainbow. I just thought you might need a moment.”

The only response I can think of is to shrug and grunt. After that, we sit in silence. A silence that stretches like a huge void all around, with us stuck in the middle and no way out. Feeling isolated with Rarity makes me even angrier because I don’t know how to fix it. I want to be alone, but I can’t let her leave. I don’t even know what will happen if she goes away. I just know that I can’t face being alone with the memories.

After a minute, she relaxes back so she’s leaning on the headboard and starts sketching again. She looks like shit. Her mane is kind of frizzy. Her coat is matted in some places and ruffed up in others. She has bags under her eyes. Her face is clean. She wiped the rest of the eyeshadow out of the creases of her eyelids at some point, but she looks grey instead of her usual bright white. We’ve been through some tough times, but I’ve never seen her look this bad.

The worst part is that she doesn’t even care. She isn’t fussing over how messy she is or making a break for the bathroom now that we have five seconds to chill out.

“When was the last time you slept?” I ask.

“The night before last.”

“You didn’t sleep at all earlier?”

“No. It simply wasn’t possible.”

It’s so easy to remember all the rants she’s been on about 'beauty sleep’. Hearing her sound like that, like sleep isn’t even a big deal, like it’s something she just doesn’t care about, is just one more thing that makes me feel like crap.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for, Rainbow.”

I feel like I’m finally able to really see her. It really is Rarity. Rarity really saved me. The fog of getting attacked dissipates for just a moment, so I can finally see my friend. There’s something haunted in her eyes, a heavy darkness that I’ve never seen before. I wonder if her mind keeps replaying things like mine does. Maybe she’s remembering what it was like to rush out of her house and see a stallion rutting a screaming, resisting mare. Or, what it was like to realize that the screaming mare was me.

She's still beautiful though. She’s still Rarity.

“Do you want to take a shower?” I ask. “You look like crap.”

“You flatterer,” she retorts but her heart isn’t in it.

She’s looking at me but not like she usually does. There’s no drama- no performance. She isn’t appraising me for some new outfit or judging me for anything. There’s no pity or anger. She’s just waiting- waiting to see what I need. She’d do anything I asked, and not because she feels bad for me. We’re just in this together. I’m messed up and she doesn’t care. She won’t cringe away or try to make me do anything I don’t want to. She’s just going to be here and be whatever I need. She’s going to take care of me and that’s all there is to it.

I could leave if I wanted. I know she wouldn’t try to stop me. She’d pack a bag for me and walk me to wherever I wanted to go. Helping me isn’t about her thinking that she’s the best pony for the job or anything like that. It isn’t really about anything. It just is. This is where I want to be. This is where I feel safe. She’s who I trust to take care of me and watch over me while I sleep. She accepts all of that and doesn’t have a problem with it. So, because she’s Rarity, she’s going to do everything she can to make me feel as comfortable as I can.

“Just go shower, Rarity.” I give her a little push. I don’t want her to go away but looking at her is making me feel guilty. “I’ll be ok.”

“If you’re certain,” she says as she stands up and heads to the bathroom. Rare’s never been one to turn down a hot shower.

“Rare?” I stop her right when she gets to the door. I hate the edge of panic and desperation in my voice that makes her stop to look back at me, and I fidget for a second before saying, “Keep the door open?”

“Of course,” she says with a weak, comforting smile. After the shower starts and a bunch of sounds that I don’t recognize, I see steam and smell something flowery wafting out of the bathroom.

From my place on the bed, I can see her in front of the mirror brushing her mane and washing her face. I’ve literally never watched Rarity get ready. I’ve been in the room while she got ready; I just didn’t pay attention. Watching her now keeps me from thinking about other stuff. I wince as she works through an especially thick tangle but she doesn’t seem to care about it at all. It’s just part of her routine.

She looks my way every couple of seconds. I don’t know if she’s worried, or weirded out that I’m watching her. Now that I know what she looks like when she’s really worried, it’s easy to think back and realize how often I missed seeing it.

I always thought it was so weird when Rare would just show up places. Like when it started raining chocolate milk and she decided to suit up and go to Sweet Apple Acres. When I told AJ that I thought it was weird, she just laughed at me. Then she told me that anytime stuff goes weird with the weather, Rare goes to see if she can help. That’s how she ended up helping prune branches and stuff before Twilight’s first slumber party.

When Applejack told me all that stuff, I just thought that if Rarity paid so much attention to the weather calendar, then she shouldn’t have complained so damn much when her mane got wet or her hooves got muddy. I didn’t get what AJ was really trying to tell me. Rarity worries and she shows up. She tries to do it on the sly, so nopony notices, but AJ noticed and now I feel kind of stupid for not noticing it sooner.

Maybe it’s weird, but I kind of hope she’s worried about me. If she’s worried, then she’ll keep me safe. She’ll take care of me the way she takes care of everything else. It might be showy and ridiculous sometimes, but it will be with more care and thought about every little thing than anypony else would do it. And the more stuff Rare takes care of for me, the less I have to worry about screwing up.

Plus, so far she’s the only pony that seems like she can handle all the feelings stuff. Rarity isn’t usually my first choice for talking about feelings, even though she’s always been pretty good at understanding what I’m trying to say when I have stuff I want to talk about.

Usually, I talk to AJ, or Pinkie Pie, or Fluttershy. It just seems to work out that way. But I can’t talk to any of them this time. I’m not even sure if Applejack believes that Mac raped me. She might be thinking about bucking me into next week for getting her brother hauled off to jail. Pinkie could handle it, but I couldn’t handle asking her to handle it. I’d feel guilty for making her be sad and serious. Fluttershy is just way too messed up about everything. Seeing her mad and stuff is already making everything worse. If I really got into it and let her see how all of this is getting to me, she’d probably get herself arrested or something. Plus, she’s way too used to taking care of hurt animals. Getting treated like that would just piss me off. And she keeps looking at me like I just got raped.

Rarity gives me worried looks, but she doesn’t look at me like she’s waiting for me to freak out, or cry, or ask for a hug or a bowl of soup. She hasn’t tried to get me to talk about very much yet, which is pretty weird considering it’s Rarity. She’s good at all the feelings stuff. So, maybe she just knows that I need time, and when I’m ready to talk she’ll be ready to listen and help me figure everything out.

When her mane is done, she gives me one more long look. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” she asks.

“Yeah, Marshmallow.” I wave her off but my voice shakes a little. “Just don’t take too long.”

She nods and moves just out of sight to step into the shower.

I’m surprised that she doesn’t react to the nickname. She doesn’t even sigh at me. I’ve always wanted to call her Marshmallow, but I figured she’d kick my flank, so I never did it. I wonder if she really doesn’t care or if she’s just waiting to get in my face about it later. There's something about it that makes me feel like me; like I’m doing something fun and just a little bit brave, because she could totally still kick my flank if she wanted to.

I never had to try to be brave before. Life happened and at the end of the adventure I found out I’d done something awesome. Trying to be brave just made me into an idiot. I’ll never forget what it felt like to realize that Mare Do Well was really my best friends. I was so obsessed with my own awesomeness that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being.

Suddenly, I can’t move. I don’t know why it happens- maybe it’s remembering that I’d been a total idiot; maybe it’s finally having a few minutes of just being by myself; maybe enough time has passed and enough feelings have been shoved down into boxes inside me that I just can’t handle it anymore. Whatever the reason, something brings everything crashing down in my brain.

I can’t breathe.

Huge hooves are slamming down on my flanks and something way too big is pounding against me from the inside trying to split me open.

There’s painful nipping at my neck that leaves each spot wet and slick with stallion spit. Then a hot nose nuzzles into the spot between my withers. His enormous weight is crushing down on my wings, as I'm trying desperately to break free so I can fly away.

I try to kick my leg, and lose my balance, only to realize he’s holding me so tight that it doesn’t matter. Laughter rumbles through his barrel and he hums, then says something about how he’s glad I’m enjoying myself.

My stomach lurches like I’m going to throw up. I want to scream, but there’s a strong foreleg crushing my throat and stopping the sound.

I shut my eyes, trying to make it all go away, and tell myself that it isn’t real; but closing my eyes just makes everything worse. Not being able to see where I really am makes the memories too strong. They are real, and they are now, and they won’t stop. They run on a loop over, and over, and over.

The pain doesn’t feel like a memory. It feels fresh and new. My forehead catching on something again and again. My wings crunching and the sharp, blinding sensation burning through every part of me. Something in my chest cracking, making it impossible to catch my breath.

I finally manage to open my eyes again. Rarity is standing there dripping water all over her fancy rug. Reaching for me just like she did last night, like she wants to help but she’s afraid to make it worse. I think she said something that helped me snap out of it.

I throw myself at her, wrapping my forelegs around her neck and burying my muzzle in her dripping mane. I need to feel anything that isn’t Mac, anything that will help me forget or at least help me remember that it’s over.

“I need a shower,” I gasp desperately.

She carries me into the bathroom. I can’t even begin to try and process how she’s managing to carry me with one leg and walk on the other three. I’m holding onto her so hard that she could probably just let me go and I wouldn’t fall anyway.

The shower is still on. She sets me on my hooves in the bottom of the tub. I don’t let go of her neck, but she manages to climb in with me somehow.

“Hotter,” I beg. The handle of the shower squeaks and the water starts to burn. I don’t know how she can stand it. For me, it feels like acid burning him away. It hurts but it helps.

We stand like that for a long time. I can still feel his hooves on my body and I don’t want to. I need to not feel like this anymore.

“Rare?” My voice is muffled, because I still have my muzzle buried in her mane.

“I’m here, Rainbow,” she answers gently.

“Please touch me.” I hear her breath catch just a little. “Please, Rare. I know it’s weird. He’s just all over me. Please just make it stop. Please.” I’m begging her. I wish I could cry but the tears won’t come. I know what I’m asking doesn’t make sense. It’s definitely not something I ever thought I’d ask from Rarity, but I need it. I need her to help me. I need her to make it stop.

She turns her muzzle into my neck and nuzzles me a little. “Alright,” she says in her brave voice.

She rears up a little. so we’re both on our hind legs and wraps her forelegs around me. I feel her hooves following the lines of the muscles in my back. She outlines my wings. Her muzzle softly slides across my neck and shoulder. The touch is soothing; smooth, and soft, and firm. It’s almost like I’ve been burned and she’s applying salve to my entire body.

I let my own hooves wander. I paw through her mane and trace the line of her spine. She’s holding me up but her muscles feel relaxed. She’s soft but solid at the same time. I let myself get lost in trying to memorize the feel of her coat. I close my eyes and force myself to match her breathing again. My whole world becomes touch and Rarity. She must have shampooed her mane before she realized I was freaking out. The smell is different than whatever she used last night. It’s stronger, more floral, but she still smells like clean laundry underneath the new flowery smell.

The touching and breathing don’t make me forget. I still feel all the pain and panic. There’s just a new layer of sensation on top of everything, and focusing on that helps me remember what’s real.

It takes a long time. The water is running cold when my heart rate finally goes back to normal. Rarity must feel it too, because she takes a deep breath and steps back to give me some space.

Her blue aura turns the squeaky handle again to turn the water off. “Do you want to wait for them to come here for your statement?” she asks the question like it’s an apology.

“No.” My answer is immediate and defensive. This is my safe place. I don’t want anypony else here.

“Then we had better go.”

I droop when I realize why she’s asking this right now. “You’ll stay with me?” I ask.

“If I can. I doubt they’ll let me for the interrogation.”

“At the doctor?”

“Every second.”

I nod and we climb out of the shower. She wraps me in a towel and does that magic air dry thing on both of us. Then she turns to the mirror. She rubs some stuff through her mane and her tail, gives each a quick brush, then starts braiding them both at the same time with her magic.

“Braids?” I ask. I can’t remember ever seeing her with basic braids in her hair, but I also can’t really remember seeing her with her hair done anyway except for her normal look.

“Just enough to have it dealt with,” she answers distractedly before she twists her mane braid up into a bun. Instantly, she looks like Rarity again- like she’s going to a party where she’s way too good for anypony there.

She turns to me. “May I?” she asks and I nod.

She brushes my mane by hoof, then rubs in some stuff and tousles my hair around. I don’t have to look in the mirror, she got it right. She reaches for a body brush and looks at me with a question mark. I nod again. Slowly and painfully, I lift my wings out of the way and stretch them as far as I can handle.

“Quite a few feathers are ready to come out,” she mumbles and I’m not sure if she’s really talking to me.

“We’ll take care of it later,” I say. Meaning that she’ll take care of it later. I can probably reach my primaries, no problem, but anything closer to my body will be painful.

“Tail?” she asks.

“Go ahead.”

She gives my tail the same treatment she gave my mane. She’s about to walk out of the bathroom, when I say, “Didn’t you forget something?”

“Did I?” she looks around a little confused.

I grab the body brush. I start to give it to her but stop. “Can I do it?” I ask.

She blushes. I don't know why, but something about it makes me feel normal. I almost chuckle. It only lasts for a second though.

“Please?” I ask earnestly. She hesitates a little then nods and steps back toward me.

It’s actually soothing having something methodical to do. I start on her neck. She stands perfectly still. She never corrects me or complains, even though I know there are places where I mess up. I look for the places I noticed earlier where her coat went the wrong way from having me pressed against it and give those extra attention. It doesn’t take a very long time, but when I step back I notice the difference. Even better, I notice the difference in Rarity. She’s carrying herself a little taller. That’s good because we’re about to go outside, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle that. I need Rarity to be on pointe.

Walking down from the apartment to the showroom sucks. It hurts. I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming or yelping. Every step down with a forehoof makes my aching chest strain. Every step down with one of my back hooves makes my eyes tear because it feels like I’ve been ripped in half.

When we get to the base of the stairs, Rarity says, “Come with me. I think I’ve got something that should do.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I assume it’s clothes. I have to take a minute to catch my breath before following her through the little hallway to the showroom.

It’s late afternoon. The sun is shining through one of the windows. Across from me is the giant three-panel mirror in the fitting area. I can’t see myself in it from this angle, but I decide it’s time to look at the damage. As Rarity walks into her workroom, I walk to the mirrors. I close my eyes and take the last three steps into position.

The pegasus in the mirror is pathetic. Her mane looks good but that’s pretty much the only thing she’s got going for her. Somepony obviously beat the shit out of her. There is a giant dark bruise on her neck that has darker lines running through it. There’s a bunch of gnarly gashes on her forehead just above an eye that is almost swollen shut. She’s cradling wings that obviously need to to be preened, and that wouldn’t keep a paper plane in the air.

I turn to the side.

The pegasus has bruises all along her ribs on both sides. There’s more than one bite mark on her neck. Her cutie marks each have the very clear outline of a huge hoof around them. The slut let some stallion tag her- hard. Her hooves are banged up too. They're chipped and cracked. Her forelegs have some scratches, even a few deeps cuts.

Rare clears her throat a little and I force myself to look away from the mirrors. She’s is standing close with something blue hovering next to her.

“This was supposed to be for your birthday,” she says. “I haven’t finished all the details but it’s wearable.”

It’s a Wonderbolts jacket- almost exactly like the official team jackets, but with a few custom touches. It’s awesome, but I can tell that it stops just past my wings.

“Do you have anything longer?” I look back at my cutie marks.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool, Rare. I just don’t want anypony to see.”

“I understand.” She pauses for a second. “I need to run upstairs. I have just the thing.” She floats the Wonderbolts jacket back to the workroom. I lean toward her as she walks by and she nuzzles my cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she promises.

I don’t look in the mirror while she’s gone. I don’t need to see that pathetic excuse for a pony again. I look around the shop but don’t really see anything. It’s just a blur of colors. That’s how I usually feel in here anyway.

She’s only gone for a minute. She comes back with a navy blue trench coat. It’s a lot like one of the outfits she wore when all that stuff went down with Wind Rider. “Do you want me to take a moment and cut holes for your wings?” she asks while I’m looking it over.

“Hell no. This is perfect.”

She nods and helps me put the coat on. It fits pretty good. She pops the collar for me, and I look in the mirror. The pathetic weakling is gone, and Rainbow Dash is looking back at me. The cover-up is pretty good, but the expression is all wrong. It’ll have to do.

“Ok, Marshmallow. Let’s do this.”

Chapter 5: Thursday- Reporting

We walk out through the kitchen door and I’m instantly so overwhelmed that I almost bolt. The world outside feels too big. There’s too much space. There are too many places Mac could be hiding if he got away from the guards that arrested him earlier. I know Twilight said he didn’t put up a fight, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t start fighting back later when she couldn’t see him.

I know it doesn’t make sense. I know that Mac is probably locked up somewhere miles away, but my racing heart and twitching wings won’t believe my brain. My instincts can’t decide if I want to dive back into The Boutique or take off into the woods at a run. The Boutique seems safer, but running could mean putting some distance between me and any threats. My eyes dart around searching for possible escape routes.

When she’s done locking the door, I press myself against Rarity so hard she has to take a step to the side so we don’t fall over. It feels a little better to have the physical reminder that she’s here with me, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Sure, she made Mac go away but what if it’s somepony else this time? What if they know that I’m hurt and decide I’m an easy target?

Even if Twilight is bugging the crap out of me, I wish she and the others were here. Twilight’s always good in a fight, and having more of my friends around to help keep me and Rarity safe actually feels like a really good idea right now.

There’s a sound of hooves coming around the corner and I flinch behind Rarity.
“That will be the others,” she says soothingly. “I saw Pinkie Pie while I was upstairs fetching your jacket. She came through the window again to check on you and I mentioned that we would be setting off momentarily.”

“And I thought you might not want to walk around alone,” Pinkie says coming around the corner with Spike, Twilight, and Fluttershy trailing behind her. Pinkie sounds like she isn’t so sure about inviting herself and the others anymore though. She’s giving me a worried look and her eyes keep darting to Twilight and Fluttershy, who are both looking anxiously at the ground like they’re afraid to look me in the eye. They're probably worried I'm going to tell them to go away again. “But if you don’t want-”

“It’s cool, Pinks,” I cut her off because I’m actually glad they’re here. Pinkie gives me a questioning little look to make sure I mean it and I nod at her. Then she posts up on my other side being careful not to touch me.

There’s a bunch of little pops. Now all of my friends are wearing jackets. Spike’s heavy and dark green. It hangs squarely on his shoulders so he looks even broader than normal. Pinkie has a pink and white biker jacket like the one Rare made for Scootaloo a few Hearth’s Warmings back. Twilight’s looks like a cross between her lab coat and the trench coat I’m wearing. Flutters has a green flowy shawl kind of thing. And, Rarity has a neat, blue number that reminds me of the suit jackets business ponies wear.

“Thanks, Rare,” I say leaning into her a little more, as the others ‘ooo’ and ‘ahh’ over there new clothes. Part of me wonders if she has a closet somewhere full of clothes she’s made for each of us, just in case we need them.

“Oh, it’s no trouble, darling. Just a few odds and ends I had lying around.”

“Thanks for coming everypony,” I mumble.

“Hey Rainbow,” Spike’s voice is concerned but bright. He gets that this totally isn’t the time to try and talk about anything serious.

“Hey Spike.”

He takes a position in front of me. He isn’t the same little dragon anymore, but he isn’t huge either. When he stands on his back legs I only come up to his shoulder, but when he’s on all fours he’s only a little bit bigger than the average pony. “Where we headed?” he asks.

“Guard Station,” I answer.

“Right-o.”

Going through the market would be faster, but we take a back path around to a side street so I don’t even have to see where it happened. It’s a long walk, which sucks because walking hurts. My hooves ache and I’m not sure why. My entire back half pretty much screams at me to go lie down with every single step. Still, taking the long way is totally worth it, because it keeps us out of most of the traffic. Every time I glance toward Main Street, it seems like everypony in Ponyville is outside enjoying the day. Everything is too loud. The glare of the sun is too bright as it arches down toward the west. The voices of all the ponies are too close and too friendly.

“Hey Dashie,” Pinkie says trying to keep her tone light.

“Hey Pinks,” I answer. “How are the Cakes?”

“Warm and waiting for frosting.” That makes me laugh a little, but the conversation dies there.

Eventually, we just have to cross Main Street, because we don’t have an hour to walk all the way around the outside edge of Ponyville instead. My friends take care of saying hi to every pony we pass. We probably look like we’re on our way to a party or something.

The walk feels like it’s taking forever. Thank Celestia, Rarity never lets up on the pressure between us, so I always have her presence to try and focus on. I duck behind her and try to pay attention to her breathing and the jaunty clip-clop of her hooves as she waves and greets every pony she sees.

Only a few ponies give me suspicious looks, like they might already know what happened, but it feels like everypony knows. Like everypony knows that beneath this coat is a pony that got mounted against her will. It feels like they can see through the fabric to the bruises. It feels like they all know what happened and they all think I deserved it. That’s why I cringe every time somepony tries to catch my eye and when they smile and say, “Hi, Dash!”

When we finally get outside the station, everypony except for Rare and Spike asks for a hug. I know they just want to help, but letting them hug and nuzzle me is for them- not me. They’re quick about it though, which I totally appreciate. Rare opens the door for me. Our eyes meet and we take a deep breath together before we all walk in.

As soon as we’re through the door, there’s a flurry of action. Celestia or Twilight gave them a heads up, so the guards knew we were coming, but they aren’t ready. One of the officers almost falls over himself bowing to Twilight, even though he’s probably seen her in the market a hundred times without making himself look like an idiot. The receptionist looking mare behind the desk gives my jacket a serious look before she asks us to take a seat.

We step away from the desk and Rare catches my eye then glances down at the chairs. I shake my head. Sitting down is going to hurt. “I’ll stand,” I mumble. She stands because I’m standing, so I lean against her and tune out the conversation she’s having with Spike and Pinkie Pie.

Finally, a guard calls my name. His low voice saying my name makes me flinch. Rarity practically has to drag me over to the doorway where the guard is waiting to lead me back. It’s obvious that he’s being very careful not to stare at me. Instead, he gives Rare a weird look like he isn’t going to let her come with me, but she does that Rarity thing and convinces him to let her have her way. Then he leads us past the desk and down a long hallway.

He’s the first stallion I’ve been around since it happened and he freaks me out. He isn’t anywhere near as big as Mac, but that doesn’t matter. He seems huge. I hold my breath and shy away from him. Rares puffs herself up a little and takes a deliberate step forward so she’s between me and the guard. Hiding behind her doesn’t make the panicked feeling go away. She gives me just enough of a buffer to keep walking, even though all I want to do is turn around and run as fast as I can the other way.

He brings us to an empty office and stands out of the way so we can go in. Rare waits and lets me go in first. The office isn’t anything fancy, just a big desk, some filing cabinets, and a few chairs. It has a couple big windows letting in the light of the setting sun. I walk over and look out at the oranges of the evening sky. It’s so weird to think that at this time yesterday, me and the rest of the weather team were just knocking off work. It was a totally normal ending to a totally normal day.

The guard says something but I don’t understand him, because I’m intentionally trying to ignore him. Rarity can deal with him for now.

“Coffee?” Rarity asks me. I barely manage a nod and the guard leaves. I catch the apologetic look on his face right before he closes the door.

“How are you doing?” Rare asks.

I shrug. There’s no point in saying I don’t want to be here.

Rares doesn’t stop looking at me. She crosses the room to stand next to me, and I close the little gap between us. She leans her head toward me and I rest my forehead against hers with a sigh. The spot where we touch feels better. I focus on that spot. I can’t do a damn thing about the fact that I’m shaking, or that my breaths are ragged, but I can focus on the one place on my body that doesn’t feel like it’s being stretched so far and so thin that it’s about to explode.

We just stand and breathe. She runs her hoof through my mane again. “Everything will be alright, Rainbow,” she whispers.

There’s a knock. A different guard opens the door, a pegasus mare this time. She has a nice face. Not nice to look at- maybe it is, but I don’t notice that- she just looks like a nice pony. The smile she gives me is serious, but not uncomfortable. She has a tray with coffee and stuff on her back, which she sets down on the desk.

“The captain will be just a few more minutes,” she says and moves back toward the door.

“Excuse me,” Rarity says politely. “Officer….”

“Justice, ma’am. Officer Swift Justice,” she shrugs with a little laugh. “I’m in the family business.”

Rares smiles but doesn’t laugh. “Yes. Officer Justice, is the captain a mare or a stallion?”

“Cap’s a stallion, ma’am. It’s standard procedure to have a female officer in the room though.”

“Can it be you?” I ask. It’s only been a few seconds, but there’s something about this mare that makes me think we could be friends if we met in a different situation.

She nods. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Thank you, dear,” Rarity says.

Justice turns to leave then turns back. “Just a heads up, you can’t be together while you give your statements. Do either of you have an attorney?”

“Do we need one?” Rarity asks.

“It’s not a bad idea, but no. You don’t need one.”

There’s a whole new kind of anxiety happening now. I can’t afford a lawyer and I don’t understand why Rarity would need one at all. I just realized that getting drilled with questions by Twilight might seem like a walk in the park compared to what’s about to happen. Especially because I’m not going to have Rarity with me this time. I’m going to be all alone with ponies that don’t know me and have no reason to believe me.

Mac is Ponyville’s golden boy. His family founded this friggin’ town. Plus, he’s Mac. He’s one of the nicest, most hardworking, quietest stallions anypony’s ever met. How the hay am I supposed to convince these ponies that he attacked me? What if I screw up and make it sound like he had some reason to think I wanted him?

I can’t do this. I want to get out of here. I want to go home.

“There’s a young purple dragon outside. If I gave you a note, would you please deliver it to him?” Rarity asks. Her voice is perfectly smooth and controlled, which helps me calm down a little bit. She’s still got me. She has a plan. I’m not the only one that saw what happened. Rare will tell them. She’ll make it work out. That’s what she does.

“Sure,” Justice answers.

Rares gets a piece of paper off the desk. When she moves I move without even thinking about it. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with having her leave when they talk to me. She finishes the note quickly and gives it to Justice, who nods and leaves.

The second the door closes, I let myself collapse a little on top of Rarity with my neck crossing over her back so my head is on one side and my body is on the other. Even though Justice seems cool, having her standing there watching me was exhausting.

Rare barely reacts to my weight. She’s fiddling with the coffee. “Cream? Sugar?” she asks.

“Whatever.”

“Let’s sit down.”

“K.” I move to collapse into the closest chair but remember just in time how much that would hurt. So, I carefully set myself down in the chair instead. A coffee cup wrapped in sparkly blue floats toward me and I take it in my hooves. The coffee is surprisingly good. Rare made it just the way I like it: no cream, two sugars. It’s kind of awesome how something as simple as coffee helps me calm down. It’s a reminder that life wasn’t always so messed up. “How did you know how I like my coffee?”

She’s settled into the chair next to me. Now I wish I wasn’t wearing this jacket, so I could reach out with a wing and touch her or something. I lean toward her so our shoulders touch instead.

“We’ve had breakfast together quite a few times, Rainbow. I pay attention to little things like this.”

“So, you know how everypony takes their coffee?”

“In our little group, my knowledge is passable.”

“Applejack?”

“Black. Although she prefers hot cider to coffee.”

“Fluttershy?”

“Prefers tea, but drinks coffee on occasion. Cream with a hint of sugar.”

“Pinkie? Half coffee, a dollop of cream, the rest sugar.”

“Twilight?’

“Triple Espresso.”

“Spike?”

“Light and sweet, with ground sapphires if they’re available.”

“Impressive, Marshmallow.” I tip my mug at her. She smiles and rolls her eyes at me. I think she likes her nickname. The whole conversation almost makes me smile just a little because for just a few seconds I feel normal like I’m just sitting with a friend talking about nothing and it doesn’t matter.

“Sometimes there’s nothing one can do for a friend but make them a cup of something. It’s nice to know what everypony likes.” Rare’s answer sounds heavy. Her eyes have that dark, clouded look again. I wonder what other times she’s remembering where the only thing she could do was make coffee and hope it helped.

We’re quiet for a long while after that. It’s weird that Rarity is here. It’s also kind of weird that she’s the only pony I can imagine going to for something like this. Even if things had gone down differently, if somepony else had found me, or if guards had taken me to the hospital, I think Rare still would have been the pony I would have asked for help for this part. I keep waiting for her to freak out, but she never does. She doesn’t even seem close. There’s just something about her, that ability to turn on the drama when she needs to and turn it off when it’s time to get real, that makes her the perfect wingmare for this.

When our coffee is gone, she puts the cups back on the desk. We lean our heads together. The silence and the tension are getting to me. I reach for her hoof. I need to fidget, so I trace little flight patterns into her foreleg.

She takes a pencil and paper off the desk in her magic and starts sketching. I’m surprised when I look over and the drawing isn’t a dress. It’s the room we’re in. The perspective is a little off, but the details are all there.

“That’s awesome, Rare. I didn’t know you could draw.”

“Hmm? Oh. I took a class a while back,” she shrugs absentmindedly, “I thought it would help with designing.”

“Did it?”

“A bit.” She squints at some mistake, erases it, then starts drawing again. “It helps when inspiration is low. There’s something grounding about drawing from life rather than inspiration.”

“You got this good from one class?”

“Unfortunately, no.” She sounds a little disappointed or frustrated with herself. The whispering scratch of the pencil moving across the paper is kind of soothing. I like watching the pencil move and create new little details that I have to look for around the room for just to make sure she didn’t invent them to embellish reality. “I take at least one class or do one workshop every year. It’s one of the ways I reward myself.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I always sign up for something the day after a new line premieres. It’s a palate cleanser of sorts.”

“Cool.” I’ve never thought about what Rarity does when she isn’t making dresses. Even after all our adventures, I never thought Rarity would want to do anything that wasn’t making dresses or going to the spa. But now that I think about it, I know that isn’t true. She does karate or something. She’s done that since she was a kid. I remember her saying something about it ‘helping with the balance one needs to walk in heels, darling.’ I know she reads sometimes. Usually, trashy romance novels that Twilight can’t stand if I remember right.

After a few more minutes, she sets the sketch aside and leans into me a little more.

“Rare?”

“Yes?”

“What was in your note to Spike?”

“I asked him to get a message to a couple friends of mine. One is the attorney I use for my business. The other is a friend in Canterlot. We met at a fundraiser some time ago. She’s dating a mare that is very active as an advocate for victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. I’m hoping she can recommend somepony to represent you. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty.”

“It’s cool, I guess.” I trace another flight pattern onto her leg. It’s a big complex monster that took the team a whole week to learn last year and another two weeks to get down well enough that nopony crashed into anypony else. “I don’t want a lawyer or anything, but I don’t want any of this and that doesn’t matter either. So, thanks for dealing with it.”

“It’s really nothing to thank me for, Rainbow.” There’s another minute of silence before she talks again. “I believe I owe you an apology,” she says.

“For what?’

“I told you that I’d be damned before another choice was taken from you. I shouldn’t have said that when there are so many aspects of this that neither of us can control.”

I look up into her big, serious eyes. She’s still totally in control but I can see the weight of everything setting inside her like hardening concrete. I nuzzle her real quick because it’s the only thing I can think to do. “It’s cool, Rares. I know you can’t make this stop. Let’s just get through it as quick as we can, ok?”

“Agreed,” she says in a much lighter, but still severe, voice.

“Why do you have a lawyer for The Boutique?”

“Oh,” she waves the hoof I’m not holding like she’s batting at an annoying fly. “I’ve been sued more than once by ponies that weren’t pleased with how some design or other turned out. There have also been a few that simply refused to pay their bills and needed to be dealt with.”

“Really?’

“Of course,” she says. Then she leans over like she’s telling me a secret. “There’s just no pleasing some ponies.”

“Sorry, Rares. That sucks.”

She shrugs. “It’s a cost of doing business.”

“I don’t get why you need a lawyer for this though.”

“If I’m not mistaken,” she says casually, “there’s a chance that I will be charged with assault.” She says it like she just told me there’s a chance of rain in the afternoon.

“What the fuck?!” I try to stand up, but my aching hips aren’t having it. Instead, I just kind of rock forward in my chair, then wince and rock back with a sharp breath that makes my ribs scream in so much pain that I can hardly breathe at all.

Rarity’s hooves flutter around me again, until she decides she doesn’t know what to do with them and nuzzles my neck gently instead. It doesn’t calm me down, but it does remind me to force myself to take some slow, shallow breaths.

When I’m finally able to talk again, I pull away from her a little so I can get a good look at her face and ask, “Are you serious?”

“It’s alright, Dashie. I knew what I was doing,” she says simply, “if I am charged, I’m confident in my defense. And quite frankly, I won’t feel badly if I am convicted. My only regret is that I didn’t do more to punish him when I had the chance.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” The thought of Rarity going to prison for helping me makes me so mad I could punch something.

“I know,” she says with a little smile as she tucks a little lock of my mane back behind my ear.

“Is your lawyer good?” I ask settling back into my seat.

“For The Boutique he’s perfect. Discreet, capable.” She pauses and chews her lip for a second. “This is a very different arena, of course. He may send one of his associates if he feels they are a better fit. The firm is on retainer, not the pony, and they will send their best. They’re all lovely. I give them discounts on their work attire, so I’ve met all the partners. I’m confident that I’m in good hooves.”

“That’s good.” I fold my forelegs and pout for a minute. “That’s shitty that you could end up in court for helping me.”

“You’re not wrong.” she shrugs. “But that’s the way of things I’m afraid.”

There’s a quiet knock at the door. Rares gives me a look. I sigh and nod. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Come in,” she says in her bright, ringing bell of a voice.

Justice opens the door. There’s a blue earth pony mare with a dark burgundy mane standing behind her. The earth pony is tall, almost as tall as Applejack, but she’s built more like Twilight before she got her wings. I’m no fashionista, but I’d bet every bit I have that Rarity made the really nice suit she’s wearing.

The mare steps into the room, then politely says to the officer: “Thank you very much. How much longer until the captain is ready?”

“Not sure, ma’am. He said he’d be ready half an hour ago.” Justice turns to me and Rare. ”Sorry for the wait by the way.”

“It’s no trouble, darling.”

“I’ll go put a bug in his ear and try to get you ladies out of here.” Justice turns to leave, but the earth pony speaks up.

“Perhaps we could use this time for the medical exam? I saw a doctor in the waiting area.” I wince at the suggestion and instantly decide that I don’t like this mare. She doesn’t even know me. What the hay is she trying to do by starting to make moves for me when she doesn’t even know my damn name?

“He’s here for something else,” Justice says awkwardly. Obviously, the lawpony is asking for something she shouldn’t have, so it irritates me even more. “But I can see if he has some time,” she finishes the sentence making the offer to me.

“No,” I say firmly.

“Excuse me?” The earth pony I don’t know asks me like I just cut her off in traffic or something.

I clench my teeth to stop myself from firing back her, but only because I know Rarity would think it’s rude and this pony is supposed to be here to help Rarity. So, even though I want to buck her in the face, I just sit and shake with anger for a second until Rarity stands up effectively blocking my view.

“Thank you for trying to make things efficient, but I believe Rainbow would prefer a female doctor,” Rare’s tone is polite, but clipped. “We are planning on going to the hospital when things are finished up here. This portion of the business is overwhelming enough without muddying the waters, don’t you agree?”

“Doing the exam at the hospital is the standard procedure, ma’am,” Justice chimes in. I’m liking that mare more and more all the time.

The earth pony lets out an irritated sigh and nods in resignation. Justice gives me one more look to make sure I’m ok, then closes the door.

“Sorry, Rarity. I don’t like how they’re handling this. Something’s fishy and I just want to get you guys out of here.” The lawpony’s tone and the way she just said Rarity’s name bug me for some reason. It’s way too familiar. It's like she thinks she’s Rarity’s friend, but she really isn’t.

“It’s quite alright, Contra. I appreciate you coming,” Rare says formally, then turns to me. “Rainbow this is Contra Forma, one of the attorneys from the firm I was telling you about.” Then back to the lawpony. “I’m sure you’ve already pieced together the obvious.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rainbow Dash. I apologize for overstepping. It won’t happen again.”

“Hey,” is all I say. I really don’t want to talk to this chick. I don’t know why but I don’t like having her here. There’s something off about her. I can feel it in my gut, but she’s here to help Rares. So, I’ll deal with it for now.

Rarity sits down again and I grab her hoof. It’s a possessive gesture and I know it. It’s totally not something I ever would have done before, but I feel like I need to make sure the lawpony knows that Rare and I are a packaged deal right now.

Rares just leans into me gently, then turns back to the lawpony. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Twilight said they knew we were coming but we’ve been waiting for nearly an hour. Something feels amiss.”

Contra’s eyes bounce around for a minute taking in the dynamic between me and Rarity. Then she takes a deep breath and says seriously, “That’s because it is. I don’t know what exactly, but something is definitely off. Making a victim wait around like this is totally unprofessional. Plus, I get the sense that they’re worried the two of you have rehearsed your stories but they haven’t separated you.”

Rarity nods for a few seconds and starts stroking my foreleg with her hoof. She probably felt me get even more tense while Contra was talking. Rare was supposed to be my backup, but if the guards think we made everything up or that she’ll just say whatever I ask her to because she’s my friend, then what?

“The officer mentioned a victim’s advocate for Dash?” Rare says after another few seconds.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Contra shakes her head. “If I had to guess, then I’d say that they’re having a hard time finding one. I don’t think there’s a certified advocate in Ponyville. Even if there is, it’d be hard to imagine they don’t have ties to the Apple family.”

“How do you even know what’s going on?” I ask without trying to hide the fact that I’m irritated she knows the story of the worst thing that ever happened to me without me telling her.

“Per Rarity’s note, I’ve spoken with Princess Twilight and the rest of the Friendship Council,” she answers simply. Now I’m even more annoyed with this new pony and with Twilight. “It was a good idea, Rarity,” she goes on. “I don’t know why the guards are stonewalling, but it was good to walk in with some idea of what’s happening.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mention it, Rainbow. I just-” Rare turns frantic, apologetic eyes on me.

“It’s cool, Rares,” I cut her off, “Just tell me all of what’s in the notes from now on.” I’m bugged that didn’t tell me and that she gave Twilight permission to talk to somepony about what happened, but it’s Rarity so I really shouldn’t have expected any different. Maybe that isn’t fair to everypony else, but that’s how I feel. Plus, I know Rare won’t make the same mistake twice.

“Fair enough,” she says with her ears still folded back. Then to the other mare, she says, “I’ve reached out to a friend in Canterlot about an advocate. I expect I’ll hear something back in the morning.”

“That’s not ideal but it’s the best we can do,” Contra shrugs. Then she taps her chin with a forehoof and says, “Unless we can get Celestia or Luna to appoint a special advocate tonight.”

“Could they appoint Twilight?” I ask. Twi’s attitude earlier pissed me off, but I’d rather have a friend than some random pony. Plus, if she didn’t know all the legal stuff she might need for this whole mess before, she probably does now. Knowing Twilight, she’s been studying this stuff all day.

“Yes, they could,” Contra answers. “Would you like for me to see what I can do about making that happen?”

“If Twilight will do it, then yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll go talk to her.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” she tries to smile at me, but it’s a weird smile. It’s the kind of smile I’d give somepony I just saw begging in the street when I didn’t have anything to give to help them. Then she looks at Rare. “Rarity, don’t answer any questions without me.”

“Of course not.” Rarity nods and Contra leaves.

I stand up slowly and start pacing. My brain says that I should feel relieved now that I don’t have to pretend to be nice to Rarity’s lawyer, but instead, I feel panicked. The room suddenly feels too small. I need to see the sky. I need a breeze. I need to not be here anymore. I don’t want to talk to anypony. I don’t want to answer their stupid questions. I suck at talking. I’m not going explain stuff right and they won’t believe me. Then Mac is going to get out and come looking for me.

I can’t control my breathing. My shallow breaths are coming too fast. My wings are twitching painfully again. There’s an itch in my hooves to make a break for it. I don’t have to report this. I don’t have to put myself or Rarity through it.

My mind races with a thousand different options. I can just run and never tell anypony. In a few months, I’ll look totally normal. I might even be able to fly again. Then, I can just set up shop in Cloudsdale, where Mac can never reach me. Or, I can just go be by myself. That way I won’t have worry about some other stallion realizing that I’m an easy target and starting this whole mess all over again.

Rarity stands up. The windows all open with a touch of her magic. She doesn’t crowd me, but she leans her head toward me again. I step forward and touch our foreheads. There's wind in the room somehow. She must have learned a lot about the weather that day she had my cutie mark.

“Just breathe, Dash,” she whispers. “Just breathe with me.”

She counts. We breathe in for four. We hold for four. We breathe out for four. We hold for four. I can’t breathe as deeply as she does, so I have to hold my breaths a little longer. Slowly, I start to feel in control again. My mind goes quiet as I put all of my focus into breathing and feeling that place where our heads touch.

“I hate this,” I say. “I want to go home.” There’s a twinge in the back of my brain about the fact that I just called Rarity’s house home.

She doesn’t call me out on it though. She just says, “I know, darling. We’ll go as soon as we can.”

There’s another soft knock and the wind stops. Fluttershy steps in. “They wouldn’t let Twilight be your advocate. There’s some problem with jurisdiction and conflicting authority. I’ve done the community advocate and support training they offered here. So, if it’s alright with you, Dashie, I’ll fill in until Rarity’s friend gets here from Canterlot.”

I look at Rarity for her opinion.

“It’s up to you, Rainbow,” she answers.

Shy doesn’t know jack about legal stuff, but she won’t let anypony mess with me. Plus, if I can’t have Rarity with me, then Shy would be my next pick anyway. So, I’m good with having her here. So, I say, “Yeah. That sounds good, Shy. Thanks.”

Shy takes a few steps and leans forward. I meet her for a nuzzle. Then Flutters gives Rarity a quick squeeze with her wing.

The door opens again. It’s Justice. “Miss Belle?”

“Please, call me Rarity.”

“Deal. Miss Rarity, if you’ll follow me. We’ve got your attorney set up in another room. We’re going to do the interviews at the same time, so hopefully, nopony has to wait around too long.”

Rares leans into Flutters again. “Take good care of her,” she says quietly.

“I will. I promise.” Shy tries to sound strong and certain but it’s so quiet that she still sounds nervous.

When Rare’s blue eyes meet mine, the world stops. She’s going to leave. I’m going to be all alone, without my unicorn for the first time since the whole world got turned upside down. Rarity is the only reason I’ve made it this far. She’s been standing up for me, and keeping me safe, and keeping all the memories at bay. Now, I’m going to have to dive into them brain first and she isn’t going to be here to help me.

“This sucks,” I whisper.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through, Rainbow,” she says gently.

“It’s still fucked up.”

“Agreed. May I?”

I nod and we hug. She’s being so careful with me, but it’s still a good hug. I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to face this alone. She’s the only one that knows everything. She’s the only one that knows how broken I am. She’s the only one that will listen to me. She’s the only one that doesn’t make me feel bad or guilty about what happened.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I admit and my voice breaks, but I refuse to cry.

“Be brave, darling. It will be over soon.”

I let myself give her one more long squeeze, I take a deep breath. She smells like her conditioner, and her bed, and The Boutique. I take one more deep breath to steel my nerves, then let her go.

The second the door closes behind her, I feel like I’m in a dangerous freefall with the ground racing up to kill me any second. Rarity has been the thermal keeping me in the air. Everything feels colder and harsher with her gone. It’s like Rare was literally some kind of a drug that was keeping the actual, physical pain away. Now she’s gone and I have to deal with all of it, it’s an overwhelming almost bone-crushing weight.

Every bruise and cut seems to hurt all of the sudden. I have to look at my foreleg to make sure that blood isn’t really trickling down from one of the many deep cuts because that’s what it feels like right now. I try to sit down and realize how sore my tail-end is, so I stay standing and start pacing instead. It’s not much better because every time one of my hooves hits the ground I feel the force of it all the way through my body. If I step with a forehoof, I feel it resonate all the way through one of my cracked ribs. I’ve crashed and broken enough ribs to recognize the feeling. If I step with one of my back hooves, I feel pain and pressure in through my entire back half that reminds of that second in the street when Rare asked if I could walk, but I knew I couldn’t because it felt like I’d been ripped in half along my spine.

“Dashie?” Shy asks quietly. She finally decided to sit down in one of the chairs after standing around watching me for awhile. Her eyebrows are knit together with worry.

It’s irritating. I’m not some wounded animal for her to fret over, but I take as deep a breath as I can manage and swallow my frustration. So, my voice is mostly even and pretty calm when I say, “What’s up, Shy?”

There’s a mask I wear for Fluttershy. It started the day we met. It didn’t matter that I was being bullied too because I was small and had way more attitude than anypony thought I could back up. I just put on my tough face and made myself be strong enough to stand up for that shy pony. Then I showed everypony that I really was awesome and things got a lot easier for both of us.

Keeping up the brave face for her isn’t always easy, especially when she’s bugging me. I’ve screwed up a lot of times over the years and been way harder on her than she ever deserved, but most of the time I really try to keep my cool around her. She’s a lot stronger than she seems, but she also worries even more than she lets on.

“I- I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”

“Thanks. I’m fine.” I lie. “I just want to get this over with.”

She takes a deep breath like she always does when she’s about to say something she knows somepony doesn’t want to hear. “It’s going to be awful, Dashie. You need to describe everything in as much detail as you can. Then they are going to ask you questions about everything.”

“So basically, they’re going to do the same thing Twilight already did to me?”

She winces at my retort, but nods. “Yes, I suppose so.” She pauses and fidgets for a minute bracing herself to say one more thing. “You need to let yourself take breaks. Trying to rush or get this all done at once isn’t a good idea.”

“Ok,” I agree even though I don’t mean it. I want this to be over as soon as possible. There’s no getting out of it, but I’m not going to let it drag on forever either.

I keep pacing. She keeps watching. I force myself to focus. I’m not going to be able to do this if I’m all caught up in feeling like I just want to go back to Rarity’s and hide from everything. I make myself go through the same mental warm-up drills I do before a Wonderbolts show. It’s actually pretty helpful. I don’t feel calm, but I do feel in control except that I want to scream for them to get their plots in here already.

Why the hell do I feel like I’m the one that’s been arrested? I want to flip out and leave, but then I’ll just have to come back. I know that.

Finally, the door opens and Justice and an older stallion come in.

“Sorry for the wait Ms. Dash,” the broad gray stallion says coldly and the feeling that’s been building, the one that I’m the one that did something wrong, gets even worse. “I’m Captain Bronze Shield.” He walks behind the desk and sits down. He sees Rarity’s sketch of the room and throws it into the trash can on the floor. “Please sit down.”

I sit in the chair next to Fluttershy. There’s a tension in the room that wasn’t here before. I know she feels it too by the way her eyes keep bouncing back and forth from me to the stallion. She offers a hoof. I don’t take it. I’ve gone to full defense mode. I’m not going to let this jerk see how much I’m freaking out right now I’m not going to let it show that my heart started trying to beat outside my chest the second he came through the door when that same prickling feeling went down my spine. I flinched when he threw Rare’s drawing away and that isn’t going to happen again either.

Shy lets her hoof drop and gives me a worried look that I feel more than I see because I’m glaring at the stallion behind the desk. “Ok, boss,” I say coolly. “Let’s do this.”

That sucked. It felt like getting raped all over again, over and over. I told my story, then he asked about it. He asked about every little detail. Then he asked more questions.

Have I ever flirted with Mac?

Did I really say no?

Did I say no, and really mean yes?

Did I orgasm?

Did he orgasm?

Am I sure he didn’t orgasm?

Am I sure I didn’t orgasm?

Have I ever had acted out a rape fantasy with a pony I was dating?

Did I fight back?

Did I say no?

Did I put any extra effort into styling my mane before going to bar?

Was I in heat?

When was the last time I was in heat?

Am I sure I really said no?

Am I sure I didn’t flirt with him at all that night?

Why didn’t I go to the doctor or the cops when it happened?

Which market stall did he have me pressed up against?

Am I sure it was that stall?

Why did I walk toward the market? Was I trying to find a place Mac and I could be alone?

Did he know I was gay before?

Am I sure I'm gay?

When did I decide I was a fillyfooler?

How long did it go on before Rarity showed up?

Did I have anything to drink at the bar?

Would Mac have any reason at all to think that I wanted to have sex with him?

Was Mac drunk?

Why do I think Mac raped me?

What do I mean I have no idea?

Have I ever had sex with a stallion before?

Is Rarity my marefriend?

Is there any reason Rarity might have a grudge against Mac?

How long did Rarity watch before she did anything?

Do I think Rarity got jealous of Mac and that’s why she used her magic on him?

Have I ever dated Rarity?

How long have I known Mac?

Do I have any reason to hold a grudge against the Apple family?

Where was Twilight Sparkle when the ‘alleged’ rape took place?

Do I have a problem with all stallions or just with Mac?

When Mac kissed me, did I kiss back?

Why did I bite him? Was it a teasing bite? Was I trying to be playful?

What other things did I do to try and let him know that I wasn’t interested?

Did I really say no?

Did I say yes and then say no?

The questions about Rarity pissed me off the most. The questions about what happened made me cry and shake and get angry, but the way that idiot talked about Rarity made me what to fly across the room and gouge out his eyes.

Questions like: “Miss Dash, have you ever seen Rarity be violent?”

It was so tempting to say, “Well, we did fight changelings side by side during the invasion, but no. I wouldn’t say that I’ve ever seen her commit random acts of violence.” But I didn’t.

“Miss Dash, was there any reason that Miss Rarity and yourself might conspire against Big Mac?”

What exactly was that idiot thinking? Me and Rares wouldn’t conspire to do anything. The biggest plan I think we’ve ever worked on together was the Winter Wrap Up that one year before Twilight moved to Ponyville. What the hell kind of idiots would we have to be to be stupid enough to use me as bait for rape?

“Miss Dash, to your knowledge does Miss Rarity have any sort of grudge against the Apple family?”

It went on like that forever and then it all started again. Shy tried to get me to take breaks. I finally agreed to take a break and eat something around the time we went over the same bullshit about Rarity for the third time. I yelled a few times, and almost flew out of my chair once, but overall I stayed pretty cool.

They didn’t let me see Rares while I was staring at the food they brought me. Bastards.

Fluttershy was awesome. She kept reminding the captain that I was a victim and that he might want to treat me with a little more tact. He kept giving her skeptical glances or rolls of his eyes, but she never backed down until he’d eased up on me just a little bit. She also kept trying to tell me to calm down and to stop swearing, even when the questions were just plain rude.

I was sure Rarity would be sitting in the waiting room when I was done, but she wasn’t. Everypony else was though. So, now I’m in this stupid waiting room sitting next to Pinkie because Fluttershy is bugging the crap out of me. Maybe it’s just carry over from being so annoyed with the guard, but I can’t stand to be close to her right now.

Pinks is holding almost perfectly still. That’s the level of shit we’re in. Pinkie Pie is holding still.

I’m sore from sitting in hard chairs for so long and from the walk over here. I need another shower. I’m tired from trying to fight back the memories and the anger. Keeping myself mostly in control for hours was exhausting. I just want to sleep, but I still have to go to the stupid hospital before I can go home. I just want to get Rarity and leave. I want to find my way to her bed so I can just relax and cry myself to sleep again.

Shy is sitting and whispering with Twilight. I wonder if that’s finally going to happen. They’ve been making googly eyes at each other forever. Maybe they’d be good together. They could sit and worry until they both turned gray. How the hell would I know? I’ve never had a relationship that lasted more than a couple weeks, and nopony is going to want me now.

That’s a brutal fact that I haven’t really thought about before.

It’s not like I was the kind of mare anypony would want to settle down with before all this happened. Wonderbolt life is awesome, but it doesn’t exactly make dating easy. Yeah, every mare wants to be the one to tame wild one, right? But that’s not wanting somepony. That’s wanting to change somepony. I always wanted somepony to stick with me, because of me. Not because I stopped being me to make them happy. Not that I could do that anyway. I mean, I’d try, but let’s be real. It wouldn’t work out.

Doesn’t matter now anyway.

None of it matters.

I’m going to be alone forever because Mac ruined me. Nopony is going to want somepony that couldn’t protect herself. Nopony is going to want somepony that has to hide behind her friends everytime a stallion walks by. Plus, what are the chances that I’m ever going to want to be touched again? Right now, even trying to think about somepony coming on to me makes me want to throw up.

Maybe I should have let him kill me. Maybe I should have flapped as hard as I could and let him break every bone in my wings. Dying would have happened fast. I would have tried to scream one last time then bled out. Then it would’ve all been over for me. Mac would have finished, thinking I’d given in, only to find that he was mounted and hilted in a dead body.

Maybe Rarity would have heard the scream. She probably would have tried to save me. When she realized that I was already gone, she would have beat him bloody. It’s so easy to imagine her going full kung fu on him. Maybe she probably would have killed him and had to spend the rest of her life trying to make a prison uniform look good.

I don’t know how long I’ve been crying, but it’s been a while. Pinkie has her foreleg around me, which is fine. It doesn’t help, but it doesn’t hurt. She isn’t squeezing me or anything, so I don’t feel like I can’t get away. She’s just letting me know that she’s here with me. Trying to do what Rarity’s been doing as best she can.

I miss AJ. She’d crack some joke about me being a weakling, and I’d find some way to be snarky. For half a second I’d get to feel like Rainbow Dash instead of sitting here wishing I was dead.

“Hey, Pinks?” I scratch out.

“Yeah, Dashie?”

“Will you go tell AJ I want to see her, but I can’t yet. I’m not mad at her or anything. I just can’t and I’m sorry.”

“Sure, Dashie.” She gets up and starts to walk away.

“Pinkie?” She stops to look at me. “Give her a hug for me. The biggest, tightest hug you can.”

“You got it Dashie,” she nods with a little smile, then she’s gone.

Spike walks in with coffee for Twilight and tea for Fluttershy. I think he asked me if I wanted something, but I can’t remember.

“Can I sit here?” He asks pointing to Pinkie’s chair.

“Sure.” I shrug. He’s almost too big to sit in any of these chairs. Another year or two and he’s going to be stuck on the floor or in whatever custom throne Rarity orders for him from Quills and Sofas.

“What’s taking them so long?” He asks between gritted teeth.

“They’re trying to charge her with assault,” I answer in the same tone.

“Really?” He looks at Twilight. “How can that be true?”

Twilight doesn’t even wait a second to start explaining, “A unicorn using their magic aggressively toward another pony is a serious thing Spike, and Rarity did a number on Mac.”

“Of course she did!” There’s a little roar in his voice. He gestures at me with a claw. “He was-”

“And making him stop was well within appropriate bounds.” Twilight cuts him off in her perfectly, coldly logical way. “But that wasn’t all she did.”

“Oh.” Spike deflates a little. “What else did she do?”

“From the bruises he had, it looks like she put Mac in a magical vice. Applejack said that she thought he had some broken ribs. We know from the impact patterns that she threw him more than 50 yards.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like he didn’t deserve it!” Spike is so adamant. He isn’t about to let Rarity’s good name be questioned.

“What he deserved wasn’t for Rarity to decide.” Twilight is still using her ‘I’m a princess, so I have to look at this from both sides’ voice.

“Shut the fuck up, Twilight,” I snap.

She’s just being an egghead. She’s just explaining the legal part of all of this. I know there will come a time in this whole mess when I’ll be grateful that Twilight Sparkle knows everything and can be so coldly logical in times of crisis, but right now it just feels like a betrayal. It feels like she’s defending Mac, and if she’s defending Mac then that means she’s on his team, and if she’s on Mac’s team then she thinks I deserve what happened to me and Rarity deserves to go jail for helping me. Rarity saved me and it’s going to ruin her life, and Twilight sounds like she thinks that’s exactly what should happen.

Still, it surprises me that Spike and Fluttershy don’t speak up for Twilight and I instantly feel bad for losing my temper. “Sorry, Twi. I just can’t hear it anymore, ok?”

She just nods with her ears flat against her head.

We’re silent again. Thank, Celestia.

Finally, a door opens and I can hear Rarity’s brightly pleasant voice in the hallway. “It’s quite alright, officer. I understand that you were just doing your job. Attention to detail isn’t lost on a lady.”

“Holy Fuck.” I think to myself the second I hear her voice. No wonder it took so long. They tried to break her. “Idiots.”

Instantly, I know what to do. Shifting into Wonderbolt/show pony mode is easier than breathing right now. Carefully, I stand up and move to where I can hear her trotting jauntily down the hallway. She comes around the corner and my heart sinks.

On the surface, she’s Rarity- smiling, lilting, simpering, tittering Rarity. But it’s all fake. The smile is fake. The polite greetings are fake. The little spring in her step is fake. All of us notice it. We’ve been through enough, there’s no way any of us could miss it. Rare is always a good show pony, but she isn’t usually fake. She’s just barely holding it together. She’s exhausted. She’s probably not far from being a sobbing heap, but nopony gets to see that. Nopony. She’d turn her hair green and move in with Applejack’s pigs before she’d let anypony here see her mask crack like that.

I flash her my best Wonderbolts smile, trying to stop any of the stress from showing on my face. If she can keep performing, then so can I. It’s even easier to smile when I see the little flash of understanding cross her face.

“You ready to go?” I ask like we’re leaving for a picnic or something. It’s not my best performance, I sound just a little irritated, but it’s pretty damn good considering everything that’s going on.

“Yes.” she nuzzles me and the feeling of knowing I’ve got my unicorn bodyguard back helps release tension all over my body. “Let’s get the rest of this dreadful day over with, shall we?” Her performance is flawless as always.

“Hey Justice!” I call out too loud. It makes everypony except for me and Rarity flinch. “You’re coming to take the pictures, right?”

We’re drawing attention to ourselves on purpose now. We aren’t letting them see how beat up we are. We’re walking out of this place like we’re just too good to be here. We’re walking out of here like we didn’t just get treated like criminals. We’re acting like we didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and it’s an easy show to put on because we didn’t do a damn thing wrong.

Justice nods and grabs a camera. “Let’s do it,” she says. She makes it sound like we’re going to a buckball game or something. I knew I liked that pony.

We head toward the door. Rares stops to hug Spike and thank him for his help. Then she hugs Fluttershy and Twilight quickly before we head out the door. Twi and Shy look so confused I almost laugh. There’s one more reason Rarity is the pony I trust in all of this. Even when she’s tired, even when she just wants to quit and go home, even when she has every right to just go but on her bathrobe and wallow in whatever it is ponies are supposed to wallow in, Rare can shove all of that into a box deep inside her and put on a show if she thinks it will help somepony.

Chapter 6: Thursday- Hospital

For the first time since leaving the bar yesterday, I feel like I have a purpose, which is to get me and Rarity as far away from those stupid interrogation rooms as possible. There’s no honor guard of friends to escort us down the street this time. It’s just me, Rarity, and Swift Justice trotting along toward the hospital.

Nopony tries to say hi to us. Plenty of them are still staring, but a lot are suddenly finding really interesting clouds or dirt clods to look at. Rarity doesn’t smile or wave to any of them either. We aren’t trying to pretend everything is fine anymore. We might as well have a big banner that says, ‘Something bad happened. We’re dealing with it. We’re still awesome.’ So, everypony can just get on with the gossip already.

All the aches and pains from getting attacked are really starting to settle in, so trotting feels a lot like getting stabbed all over my body every time I take a step. But letting my muscles move and work starts to break up some of the stiffness from laying or sitting around so much today, which hurts but in a familiar way like going for a run after a hard crash.

Being in the street kind of freaks me out. It’s hard to keep my eyes focused on the path ahead of me because I keep wanting to look around to make sure nopony is following us but doing that would totally ruin the vibe we’re trying to give off. The problem is I can’t think about where we’re going either because I really don’t want to get poked and prodded by doctors. At the same time, there’s that pegasus thing deep inside me that is happy to be out in fresh air and to see the sky wide open above me.

It only takes a few minutes to get to the hospital. Once we’re inside, Rarity and Justice go talk to the nurse at the desk while I hang back by the chairs. Redheart gives me a pitying little look and says we have to wait for a few minutes.

“This part will go a lot quicker than the interview,” Justice says when she gets back from the desk. She sounds irritated about how things went down at the office. “I’ll just snap the pics I need and get out of your manes.”

“Thanks,” I say.

“No problem.”

Rares sits in the chair next to me. She looks totally calm, but I can feel her shaking. I catch her eye and reach out for her hoof. We make it look as casual as we can, but we’re squeezing each other as tight as we can without making it obvious. She lets out a deep breath and leans into my shoulder.

We only get a minute to breathe and try to relax. Then a male nurse calls me back. He holds one of the double doors open for us. I can hear the thump thump of my racing heart when my hoofsteps suddenly stall and I stop moving. I try to stay cool, but I can’t make myself walk past him into the hallway.

I glance at Rarity and she effortlessly puts herself between me and the nurse that didn’t do anything wrong except be born a stallion. She takes the door in her magic and says, “You are too kind.” She doesn’t flirt with him or anything, but she does smile appreciatively. “I don’t mean to disregard the chivalry, but would you mind terribly if I asked you to go first? You see, neither I nor my friend is much inclined to have anypony walking behind us just now.”

The stallion was trying not to look at me while Rarity was talking. He almost sounds relieved when he says, “Sure. Sorry.” and bolts through the door.

I’ve always hated hospitals. They’re boring and being in one means I messed up bad enough I’m probably not going to be flying for a few days. This time is even worse, because I feel like all the lights are pointing right at me. It’s like I have a giant spotlight following me around, telling everypony I pass to look at me and see how bad somepony managed to beat up a mare that’s supposed to be one of the toughest in Equestria- not just Ponyville.

“The doctor will be right in,” the nurse says when we get to the room. He gives me the same apologetic look that stallion guard gave me back at the station, then he leaves the room as fast as he can.

“Thank you,” Rarity says as the door closes.

There isn’t much in the room. There’s the normal stuff: a table, a couple chairs, and a sink. That’s it. Rares sits down and so do I.

Somewhere in the back of my brain, I’m able to acknowledge that the nurse and the guard from the station are probably both decent guys. It kinda sucks that they freak me out right now because they’re probably just cool guys with decent stories about weird stuff they have to do for their jobs. If I’d met them a week ago, they probably would have been cool to hang out with. Now they’re always going to remember me as that mare that was terrified of them because somepony else raped her.

“You’d still like for me to stay?” Rarity asks gently pulling me back to the present.

I nod. “Yeah. Please.” There’s a lot more scared pleading in my voice that I’m normally ok with, but today there’s no point in even trying to pretend like I can handle this on my own.

She nods back. “Of course, darling.”

There’s a knock at the door. It opens and a small pegasus mare comes in. I recognize her. She used to be a doctor in Cloudsdale. I think she married a unicorn and moved to Ponyville about the same time I did. She gives me and Rares a weak little smile. Then nods at Justice and says, “Officer.”

“Doc.”

The doctor quickly looks back at me, focusing her warm golden gaze on my eyes. “I’m guessing this has been one hell of a day for you.”

“Pretty much.” I shrug.

“I’m sorry about that.” She manages to sound professional and sympathetic without being patronizing or condescending. “I’ll do my best to get you out of here quickly.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Will your marefriend be staying?” she gives Rarity a sideways glance and a genuine smile.

“Oh, we-”

“Yeah,” I cut Rarity off and grab her hoof before she can launch into some twisted explanation of what’s really going on. It’s nopony’s business and I don’t feel like wasting that kind of time. “She’s staying.”

The doctor eyeballs our joined hooves for just a second then nods and says, “My name is Aileron Cornu. I think we’ll start by letting Officer Justice get the photos she needs. Then I’ll do a brief exam and we’ll go from there. Alright?”

I sigh, nod, and slowly get to my hooves. Rares gently lifts the jacket off me. The tingle of her magic on my coat feels really good. I close my eyes and focus on the swirling feeling because I don’t want to see the other two react. I don’t need to see them when I can hear them anyway.

The doctor tries to hide her gasp and fails, but Swift Justice clearly says, “Holy shit!” and I flinch.

Rarity stays steady. Her sapphire eyes lock on mine as she tosses the jacket into one of the chairs. All the crap I saw earlier when she got out of her interrogation is gone. It’s like nothing bad has happened to her at all today. Her expression isn’t exactly relaxed, but it’s soft and totally focused on me. I’m not alone. She’s going to stay. I don’t have to do this alone. Rarity will help me handle whatever happens.

The doctor coughs a little, but her voice still catches when she says, “O- officer Justice?”

“Oh, right.” Justice shakes out herself out of the trance staring at my various bruises put her in. “Ms. Dash, can you step over here?”

It’s weird when ponies call me Ms. Dash. Justice is a pony I could be friends with. She shouldn’t be calling me Miss. anything.

“Just call me Dash, k?”

“Sure. Sorry.”

I give Rare one more quick glance then move into the middle of the room. Justice starts taking pictures as soon as I’m holding still. So many damn pictures. I keep my eyes locked on Rarity’s and count our breaths to keep from freaking out.

“Open your wings, please,” Justice says peeking out from behind the camera to give me an apologetic look. It’s easy to tell that she feels bad for asking the question, but I know she doesn’t really have a choice.

“Carefully,” the doctor rushes to say.

“Duh!” I say before I can stop myself. Rarity rolls her eyes at me for being rude.

There’s a good half a second where I smirk and just feel like me, but then I start trying to open my wings. I try to be slow and careful, but it doesn’t work. The pain seems to start before I even start trying to move. Like my body is punishing me for even thinking about trying to spread my wings right now. Actually, trying to move any part of them brings hot tears to my eyes that I can’t stop from spilling over. Hours of sitting with my wings tucked against my sides under a jacket didn’t do me any favors. I bite my lip and try to breathe through the pain, like a mother trying to birth a foal. It doesn’t help.

Rares tears up too. “Can I help?” she asks.

I shake my head but the doctor cuts across me and says, “Do you know a basic numbing spell?”

“Of course.” Rarity’s instant, confident answer surprises me but some things start making more sense, like how she was able to get my wing open with her magic so she could clean it last night without making me bawl like a baby.

“Can you numb her from the wing tips to here?” The doctor points to a place on my back but doesn’t touch me.

Rarity stands up to look. “I believe I can, yes.”

“Would you be alright with that Dash? It’s important that Officer Justice gets good pictures of the damage done to your wings.” For the attempted murder charge. She doesn’t say the last part, but she doesn’t have to.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I answer.

“Do you have a rudimentary chart of the nerves I can look at?” Rarity asks like she’s asking for a dress pattern to look at so she doesn’t screw anything up. For a second she sounds a lot like Twilight, but then I remember that Rares is just as persnickety as Twi. Maybe it’s a unicorn thing. Maybe I should just be grateful that, unlike Twilight, Rares is willing to admit she doesn’t always know everything and ask for help.

The doctor pulls a picture out of a drawer and starts pointing. “Ideally, these three nerve bundles need to be numbed and this muscle magically supported so we don’t cause more damage.”

Rarity’s blue eyes move back and forth from the picture to me a few times before she nods. “Ready, Dashie?”

“Have at it, Marshmallow.” I shrug and close my eyes.

The magic feels good. The cool swirling tingle starts at my the tips of my feathers and creeps carefully in along each feather then seeps into the flesh of my wing and along the bones toward my spine. Then, suddenly I can’t feel anything. All the soothing, tingling, coolness is gone along with everything else. The huge relief of not feeling the aching pain in anymore is almost totally overwhelmed by the total panic that comes from not being able to feel my wings at all.

My eyes snap open and meet Rarity’s calm gaze. It’s Rarity. She doesn’t make mistakes, not with stuff like this. I suck in a couple breaths and look back just to verify that my wings really are still there. Seeing them helps for a second, but then I notice how bad they look and I have to look away again.

“Very impressive,” the doctor says appreciatively as she carefully unfolds one of my wings. “We have residents that can’t perform half as well.”

I focus on the feel of Rarity’s magic where it tickles my back and side at the base of my wing while Justice pictures from every possible angle. Magic kind of feels like air or wind. There’s a tiny rustle to it that I can feel with my coat. I should have paid more attention when it was moving across my feathers. I would’ve been able to feel every little pulse and shimmer.

Rares takes hold of the wing the doctor had, softly folding it in and pinning it to my side. Then she releases the other one into the doctor’s hooves.

Finally, Justice says, “Done with the wings.”

Rarity takes my second wing and carefully folds it back into place.

“It’s probably going to hurt when she releases the magic,” Dr. Cornu warns me.

“Is there any way to avoid that?” Rares asks and I can’t help but smile gratefully at the unmasked concern in her voice.

“Do you think you can do a slow time release on the spell?” the doctor asks with a hopeful little lift to her tone. It’s the same tone I hear from Spitfire when she’s come up with a new move for me to try that’s ridiculously hard, but she’s already pretty sure I can do because I’m awesome like that.

Rarity’s eyebrows knit together while she looks at my wings. The expression is crazy familiar to me. It’s the face she makes when a dress isn’t doing what she wants and she has to figure out how to fix it. Her horn is glowing a steady blue and I feel her aura tingling around in a few different places. Finally, she says, “Yes. I believe I can do that. Rainbow, what do you think?”

“Go ahead and try it,” I say after one second of hesitation. She isn’t Twilight trying some spell she isn’t sure will work, so I don’t feel like I need to be worried that she’s going to screw up too bad. The tingling speeds up then slows down to a steady hum and the aura around her horn fades.

“I’ll have to nudge it along every few minutes,” Rarity says like she needs to be sorry that she can’t just make it happen automatically. “But you won’t have sensation return all at once.”

“Cool.” I try twitching my wings. The muscles of my back respond enough that I feel the tiniest movement of feathers against my coat but no pain. “Thanks, Rare.”

“Beautifully done,” the doctor says, obviously impressed.

“Oh, it was nothing,” Rarity blushes and waves a hoof.

Swift Justice kept snapping pictures during the exchange. Now she’s got the lens trained on my cutie marks. She’s a lot closer to my flanks thank I’m comfortable with, especially now that I’m getting used to the feeling of having numb wings so I’m less distracted. I try to hold still, but can’t stop from shifting anxiously a little on my hooves.

“Just a few more, ok Dash?” Justice says.

“Yeah. Sure,” I say back. It’s not like there’s anything I could do to make her stop anyway.

Rare’s eyes are totally focused on my face. “You’re doing wonderfully,” she assures me.

I nod a little then start staring at a poster on the wall. It’s a generic landscape with a wide, green meadow, a blackish pond, and a blue-gray sky. There’s nothing about it that really stands out, so it isn’t much of a distraction, but it’s better than nothing.

After another minute of camera clicking, Justice sucks in a deep breath then speaks in the most apologetic voice I’ve heard anypony use yet. “I need you to lift your tail,” she says.

“Fuck. No.” I snap my tail down hard and try to ignore the jolt of pain shooting up my spine. It would have radiated out through my wings too if I could feel them. I lean, reaching for Rarity, and she steps forward to let our foreheads touch. I wish I could just let the world shrink down to that one single place and not feel anything else. Tears are streaming down my face as I shake my head against Rarity’s.

“I know, Dashie. You’re being so brave, darling,” she says so softly that I know I’m the only one that heard her and reaches up to stroke my mane. It’s weird to have her call me Dashie. It isn’t bad, just weird, but not weird enough to distract me from what’s happening right now.

“Just kill me, ok?” I tell her.

“No, darling,” she answers seriously. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that. I didn’t go to all this bother just to have to dispose of your corpse.”

“It’s not like you haven’t thought about it,” I chuckle a little. We’re whispering.

“I never!”

“Not even when I broke that window in The Boutique?” I raise my good eyebrow and look at her.

“Which time?” she asks in that perfect mock innocence of hers.

“Ha. Fair enough.” Just like that, the half a second of distraction is gone and I’m back to remembering that there’s somepony waiting for me to lift my tail and show them exactly what happened to me. The rest of me looks really bad, but it could have just happened in a fight or a really bad crash. These are the pictures they need to really confirm that it was rape. I lean into Rare a little harder. “Do I really have to do this?”

“Yes, darling. I’m afraid you do.”

My tail is still tucked firmly between my legs. I know I’m torn. I know I’m bruised. I know that I don’t really know how bad it is down there. Rarity’s seen it, but hasn’t said much, just enough to let me know that it’s really bad.

“Help me?” I ask. I don’t even know how or if she can, but it feels like if there’s a way then Rarity will find it.

“Are you absolutely certain?” She doesn’t even sound surprised. There’s definitely something she can do. It’s probably one more thing neither of us ever thought we’d be ok with, but here we are and she’s the mare with a plan. I nod and move my face to hide in her shoulder.

Magic rolls across my back then wraps gently around my dock. Then everything carefully lifts and there’s a bunch of clicking.

“Sorry, Dash,” Justice says, her voice thick with emotion. “But I need you to open your legs more.”

I widen my stance. It hurts. I almost scream into Rare’s shoulder, but I focus on her instead. I close my eyes and breath in her clean laundry and flower scent. Her coat is soft, but the muscles underneath it are strong. Like all things Rarity, there’s just something about the feel of her that seems carefully maintained.

Her low voice mumbles in my ear, “Shhh. Dashie. It’s almost over. You’re being so brave.” The words don’t make me feel any better, because they don’t mean anything, but the agony in her voice helps because it means I’m not alone.

“I’m so sorry, Dash,” Justice says again, “but you’ve got a lot of bruising. Can you go any wider?”

I want to scream and punch her in the face, but I also want to apologize for putting her through this. No decent mare wants to see another pony like this- no decent stallion does either for that matter. If I was in Justice’s place, having to ask another mare to spread her legs wide and let me take pictures of the evidence that she’s been through one of the worst things a pony can live through would haunt me forever.

I bite down on Rarity’s shoulder to keep myself from screaming and spread my legs as far as I can without falling over. It hurts. Any healing my body had started just got ripped apart.

I feel disgusting. Ruined. What happened was bad, but this is worse. There’s a part of my brain screaming that I should have just stayed at Rarity’s. I should have sworn her to secrecy and never told anypony what happened. It would’ve just taken a few weeks for me to heal and I could have kept my shame a secret. Instead, that one part of me that I never put on display, the one part I kept to myself for myself and the few ponies I ever felt like sharing it with, is splayed for somepony I barely know.

Rares is going to have a gnarly bruise from the bite, but she doesn’t even flinch. Her lips gently press a kiss to the back of my head and her hoof strokes my mane as she rides out the pain. It’s probably only a few seconds but it feels like the longest year of my life.

“Ok,” Justice finally says. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her wiping away tears.

I relax my jaw and instinctively lick the wound I just caused trying to sooth the pain. “Sorry,” I mumble.

Rares kisses my cheek. “It’s nothing,” she says with a smile and a little shrug.

“Still sorry,” I mumble and take a step back.

She gives me a quick little nuzzle. “Truly, Rainbow, it’s fine.”

“I’ve got what I need,” Justice is saying to Doctor Cornu, then she turns to me. “Just so you know, Dash. I’m taking myself off your case after I drop these off.”

“Why?” I ask bewildered and disappointed. Knowing she was working on my case felt awesome because it felt like she believed me. Like there was at least one pony I could trust to be on my side. If she isn’t helping out, then that just leaves that idiot of a captain that obviously thinks I did something to deserve all of this.

“Because I can’t do my job on this one,” she answers wiping a few more tears off her face. “I’m around if you need anything though, ok?”

I sigh because I get it, but it’s still disappointing. “Thanks, buddy,” I say raising a hoof for her to bump. “I appreciate that.”

“No problem. I’ll see you around, Dash.” She walks out, leaving us with the doctor.

The doc needs another moment to collect herself. It’s one of those times when the barriers crack and I remember that guards and doctors are just ponies. They don’t have some special shield that protects them from feeling the heaviness of the stuff they have to see in their jobs. I guess I’m not surprised that all of this is affecting the doctor so much, but I wish it wasn’t. I wish she could just stay in professional mode, so I wouldn’t have to feel bad about giving one more mare and awful memory to haunt her forever.

“It’s pretty bad, huh?” I ask.

“Yes,” she answers honestly after taking a deep breath. “Rape isn’t common in most of Equestria. It’s even less common in Ponyville, as you might expect. Still, I’ve been the consulting physician on a few cases over the years. Yours are by far the worst physical injuries I’ve seen. You’re very lucky the injuries to your wings aren’t any worse.”

“Yeah, lucky.” My words are hollow. I catch Rarity pouting at me for half a second before her face goes back to being carefully calm and supportive. She’s still bugged I didn’t tell her how bad my wings really were. I don’t blame her, but I also don’t feel bad. This whole reporting thing is bad enough now when I’ve had a few hours to try and get myself together. If we’d come in last night I probably would have just freaked out and run away screaming.

“We need to take an x-ray,” The doctor continues. “Then we’ll what we need to do about your other injuries. Miss Rarity, is it safe to assume that you’ll be available to help with Dash’s recovery?”

Rare looks at me and I nod. Then she says, “Yes, of course.”

“Wonderful. I expect that will help speed things along. I’m going to get the x-ray ordered and start writing some homecare instructions for you. Do either of you have any questions for me at this point?”

I shake my head.

“You really are very lucky, Rainbow Dash. To be alive and to have such a talented unicorn as your special somepony.” She smiles weakly at us and walks out the door.

I should laugh, right? The idea that Rarity and me are special someponies is ridiculous. It’s just so wrong. I can’t do it though. We look at each other, but it isn’t the knowing, dismissive look it could be. We both feel it. This new thing between us isn’t even a little romantic, but it isn’t nothing. Rarity is going to be my main mare for a while. She’ll take care of me. She’ll never leave me, but it will never be like that for us. Which is ok, because I’m not even sure I’ll ever be able to get to that place again.

I’ve never really needed to be in a relationship to be happy, but I always knew I’d want one someday. Now, I’m ruined. I can’t imagine letting someone in like that. There’s only one pony I could trust enough for that, and she’s only safe because I know Rarity doesn’t think of me that way.

The more the doctor looks at the x-ray the more she goes on about how it’s more than a miracle I’m alive. The x-ray confirms a few things: pretty much every bone in each of my wings is fractured, broken, or shattered, but somehow none of the major blood vessels in my wings ruptured. There’s plenty of damage to the muscles and tendons, but nothing is torn. The fact that my wings are so strong means that even though tons of stuff is messed up, nothing really shifted much, so it doesn’t look like anything needs to be rebroken and set right.

I have broken ribs on both sides and some internal bleeding that should resolve itself, but the doc wants to keep an eye on it.

Cornu got a good look at my tail end while Justice was taking pictures. She says that I’m torn enough I could benefit from stitches, but she doesn’t think they’re strictly necessary. The idea of having her down there messing with stuff makes me want to puke, so we decide I’m not getting any stitches.

The doctor wants to give me some medicine to make sure I don’t get pregnant until Rarity explains the magic she did to make sure that wasn’t a problem. I think the doctor might be a little in love with Rarity. She won’t shut up about how Rares would make an excellent surgeon, especially since she already knows how to sew.

My prescriptions are simple enough: pain meds, rest, ice -especially on my eye to make the swelling go down- heat, stretching, physical therapy in a few weeks, and Rarity- several daily doses of Rarity. She’s supposed to preen and massage my wings at least once a day. More importantly, it’s her job to make sure that I don’t freak out and get me in to see a counselor as soon as possible.

Rares helps me put the trenchcoat back on for the walk home and we finally get to leave the exam room. It’s late but our friends are in the waiting area, even Applejack. I stop moving when I see her and glance sideways at Rarity. She’s frozen too and looks just as panicked as I feel.

I didn’t realize exactly how scared I was of this moment before. If AJ doesn’t believe me, if she doesn’t believe Rarity, then I don’t know what will happen. I don’t want to lose her. I can’t imagine life without Applejack. But, if she thinks I’m a liar or hates me for ruining her life (and I totally wouldn’t blame her for that second one), then I don’t know how we’ll ever get past it

AJ slowly stands. Rare and I both suck in a breath and hold it as Applejack looks carefully and deliberately from me to Rare and back to me. It feels like she can see right through my jacket to all the bruises and broken bones, but I can’t tell from her face what she thinks about any of it. All I can do is hold my breath and wait for her to decide, but she isn’t giving anything away.

After a few of the longest seconds of my life, AJ takes her hat in her hooves and looks away. Rare and I both let go of the breath we were holding. At least, AJ didn’t start yelling right away. That might not be a good thing, but it means there’s still a chance she’ll believe us.

Rare looks at me with the tiniest question in her eyes. I take another breath, letting my lungs expand painfully until I wince and have to let the air go. Then I nod and we start walking across the waiting room again.

AJ keeps looking anywhere but at me until I’m right in front of her. I’m right on the edge of freaking out. Part of me just wants to know already. If she’s going to tell me I’m a liar or that I deserved it for always being such a show-off, then I just want her to get on with it. But, if there’s a chance she’ll believe me, even if all she can say is that she doesn’t know anything for sure yet, then I can wait. I can feel Rarity’s perfectly calm and patient presence next to me and I focus on trying to mirror it.

Finally, with her ears pressed flat against her, AJ nods sadly at the floor then looks me square in the face. I let myself breathe and feel the biggest rush of relief I’ve had since Rarity agreed to take me home last night instead of bringing me to the hospital. The acceptance and apologies are all right there in those honest eyes. Applejack believes me. Or, she believes me enough that she isn’t going to yell at me for getting her brother in trouble.

“Look,” she says, wiping her muzzle a little to brush away any tears that might have been trying to sneak out of her eyes. “I know you don’t want me here and I can’t say I blame you. I just….” Her eyes move across my jacket again. “Well, I just hoped that it would be alright. You don’t have to say nothin’. I’m sure you’re plum sick of talkin’. And thanks for not yellin’ at me for showin’ up. Like I said, I don’t blame you a’tall for not wantin’ me here. I just wanted to see that you’re managin’. Now that I have, I’ll stay away until-”

“Shut up,” I cut her off and pull her into a hug. It’s the first hug from anypony besides Rarity that feels right. AJ smells like dirt, and trees and fresh air. It distracts me from the crappy hospital smell and I take as deep a breath as I can manage. She squeezes me too hard and buries her muzzle in my shoulder. I feel her shudder and hear her breath catch.

“I- I can’t-” she tries to spit out, but the tears break through and her voice catches in her throat. I squeeze her with everything I’ve got but she doesn’t squeeze back any harder. She eases up instead but doesn’t actually let go. So, there’s one more thing about all of this that sucks. For the first time ever, Applejack is afraid of hurting me.

I know what I’m going to see when she pulls away and I hate it, even if I can’t blame her for it. She’s going to look at me differently. From now until forever, AJ is going to look at me like somepony that got beat. She won’t mean it to be a loss of respect, but that’s how it’s going to feel. I’m never going to be able to make up for this. She won’t let me because she’ll want to protect me instead.

Suddenly, the hug is way too much and I have to pull away. I’m careful to keep my eyes on the ground, so I don’t have to see the change in AJ’s face. Maybe if I don’t see it, then it won’t be real.

Applejack lets me go and turns to Rarity. “Rare...I...I just can’t even….”

Rarity gives AJ a little nuzzle, but I can feel her eyes on me. “It’s alright, darling,” Rare says. “We’re alright.”

Another quick round of hugs and checking in with everypony and we leave for Rarity’s. Twilight and Fluttershy are keeping to themselves, which is totally fine with me. I know neither of them has intentionally tried to piss me off today, but I don’t care very much about their intentions. I don’t even care about very much about what they’ve done. It’s not like they can go back and change it. Well, Twilight could but she won’t. I care about what they do. It’s the vibe coming from them that bugs me now. Twilight keeps doing stuff that makes it seem like she isn’t totally on my side, and she doesn’t act like that pattern is going to change anytime soon. And Fluttershy keeps defending her. They have their reasons, and they’re probably good ones, but I’m too tired and worn out to care. Tonight, it bugs me and I don’t think I can handle any more of their crap without totally freaking out at them.

So, I walk next to Rare and lean wearily against her. She takes my weight like I’m nothing more than a saddle bag and gently encourages me to keep putting one hoof in front of the other.

AJ is on my other side. I still haven’t looked at her face, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her give me and Rare the eyebrow for just a sec. Then she shakes out her head like whatever’s going on isn’t something she wants to try and understand right now, so she’s just going to go with it.

Nopony talks and it’s late enough that we don’t run into anypony in the street as we take the back way to The Boutique. The only sound is our hooves crunching through the dirt.

When we get to the back door, Rarity asks, “How is everypony getting home?”

“I’m staying at Twilight’s,” Fluttershy answers simply. She doesn’t blush, even though Rarity and AJ both give her a questioning look. I’m guessing she’s choosing to call it a functional choice. She probably really does want to stick close in case I need something, but I’m guessing she also wants to try and take care of Twilight since I’m not letting her take care of me. They’re both bugging the feathers off me I’m glad nopony has to deal with this shit show alone.

“I’ll just be walkin’ home,” AJ says.

“I’ll walk with you,” Pinkie offers. “Nopony should be walking by themselves in the dark tonight.”

“But then won’t you just have to walk home in the dark, Pinkie?” Applejack counters.

“Yeah, but only for a second. I’m way faster than you are, and I can always dip into the tunnels if I need to.”

“Tunnels?” I ask.

“I’ve been working on a network of party tunnels from my super secret party planning laboratory. I got the idea after I dug that tunnel when Fluttershy turned into Flutterbat. There’s a tunnel entrance at Sweet Apple Acres. Nopony knows about the tunnels, so I’ll be safer than spinach at a cupcake party. Plus, I can swing by Twilight’s on my way back to Sugarcube Corner, just to be extra bonus leveled up to the max safe.”

“Pinks?”

“Yeah, Dashie?”

“I love you,” I say with a smile.

“I love you too!” She moves to hug me but waits for my nod before squishing me gently. She’s one crazy-ass pony, but she really is my best friend.

Applejack coughs, as Pinkie lets me go. I catch those green eyes and see the look I’ve been trying to avoid. It isn’t a huge change. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if I wasn’t already hyper-aware of everything. But, there it is and it sucks. I look away and lean on Rarity a little more. Rare gives me a quick look, that I don’t respond to.

AJ’s cough is hanging in the air like a warning. This is that moment when we go our separate ways, but she’s got something to say. She’s nervous, pawing awkwardly at the ground. “I need y’all to know somethin’ before I go,” she finally says with a sigh.

“Go ahead, Applejack. We’re all friends here,” Rarity says in her soothing voice.

“Thanks, Rare,” AJ says appreciatively. “I just wanted you and Dash to know that Mac isn’t gettin’ any sort of help from me or Granny. She already sent a letter out to the entire family sayin’ that if anypony wants to help him, then they can consider themselves cut off from the Ponyville Apples.”

Twilight starts to say something, but AJ waves her off. “Don’t even go there Twi. There ain’t no innocent until proven guilty in the Apple family, not when it comes to this. Granny and me seen enough this mornin’ to be convinced Mac done some serious wrong. That’s what I was yellin’ when y’all showed up. Gran kept askin’ all mornin’ what happened and he wouldn’t say a world, which was enough for Granny. So, even if them guards hadn’t shown up and carted Mac off, there still would’ve been hell to pay. As it is, we spent the day boxin’ up his stuff, and writin’ to some of the cousins about comin’ to pick up the slack around the farm.”

A weight settles over me like a heavy blanket. As relieved and happy as I am that Applejack believes me, I also feel really bad for Mac. He’s got no one. “AJ…” I start but don’t know what else to say.

She raises a hoof to stop me anyway. “Now ain’t the time, Dash. I reckon I’ll hear the full story eventually, and in the end, we’ll all be sick of talkin’ about it. If I was you I'd already be sick of talkin’ about it. But, there’s somethin’ else y’all should know before I go,” Applejack says. Her voice is heavy and exhausted, but still strong. “Mac’s been assigned some public defender. Don’t know much about him, but what we know don’t sound good.”

“He’s really going to try and defend himself?” Pinkie asks. “That meanie mcstupid evilface. Sorry AJ.”

“It’s fine, Pinkie,” AJ gives a sad little chuckle. “I’ve been callin’ him a lot harsher words all day. But, yeah. Least, according to the letter his lawpony sent Granny this afternoon.” Applejack pauses to look apologetically at me and Rarity. “Sounds like he’s gonna try and say that Dash and Rarity set him up and that Rare used more magic than she should have.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” Fluttershy asks.

“It’s the best defense they’ve got,” Twilight interjects before Applejack can answer.

“What do we do about it?” Rarity sounds a little concerned, but mostly she sounds tired.

“Let the evidence speak for itself,” Twilight says simply. “I don’t know what possible motive he could claim the two of you had for framing him. Unless he’s willing to risk some really big lies.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“If Mac could find a way to convince the judicial committee and the jury that the two of you were dating and Rarity got jealous, then he will have a premise to explain why Rarity went after him. Or, could claim that one of you had some long-standing grudge against him.”

“Huh.” I glance quickly at Rarity. “That makes some of the questions they asked me start to make a lot more sense.”

“But how will that explain away the rape?” Fluttershy asks.

“He’d probably say that Rainbow just likes it rough,” Twilight shrugs and I vomit a little in my mouth.

“This is all speculation at this point, of course,” Rarity offers in an attempt to soothe the group and close the conversation.

Of course, Twilight ignores her and plows ahead like swarm of parasprites. “Yes, but I’ve heard about this public defender before. He’s well-known for being relentless and unscrupulous. He’ll try anything to get his clients acquitted, and he’s surprisingly good at what he does.” She pauses to look right at Rarity with a meaningful gaze before saying, “That is, of course, unless they decide to go the more traditional route.”

“What’s that?” AJ asks.

“To blame the victim,” Fluttershy hisses quietly and it makes my hair stand on end.

“How could the blame Dashie?” Pinkie asks. “I mean...just look at her? I know plenty of ponies that like to play rough, none of them look like that at the end of a party.”

Twilight sighs. She tries to look at me, but shies away at the last second and looks at Rarity instead.

“You might as well explain, darling,” Rare encourages. “I think it’s the more likely scenario. As we’ve said, they’d have to tell a rather impressive series of lies to make the case another way.”

I grunt in agreement. I think I can guess what Twilight is about to say and I really don’t want to hear it. It’s too close to a lot of the stuff I’ve been thinking on my own.

Twi sighs again then stands a little taller and starts explaining, “Generally, when these issues arise the offending pony’s first line of defense is saying that they were confused. Essentially, to claim that the victim first invited and consented to the sexual contact and then changed their mind after the fact.”

“Ain’t nopony gonna believe that Dash said yes to some stallion mountin’ her,” AJ blurts. The words sound gross and make me gag, but I’m still super glad she said them. She obviously thinks what Twi said is ridiculous and that makes me feel a little better.

“Correct. Anypony that knows Rainbow would never believe it, but the case isn’t being tried in Ponyville. It’s being tried by a group of magistrates and judges that don’t know her,” Twilight answers back.

“Yeah,” I grumble under my breath. “Whose fault is that?”

“Princess Celestia’s.” Rarity’s voice stops me before I can complain anymore. “Celestia is the one insisting the case move through the system as it has. As much as I wish you could be spared any further trauma, Rainbow, I must admit that I quite agree with her. It isn’t exactly convenient for anypony, but it’s the surest way to deal with the matter once and be done with it.”

“Exactly.” Twilight nods in support of Rarity’s explanation.

“So, if they can’t just say that Dashie wanted to be with Mac then changed her mind, then what will they say?” Pinkie asks.

“They’ll say she had it coming,” Fluttershy says quickly. The explanation flows out of her like a flash flood. Her voice still has all of the acid it had before. “They’ll say Dashie is a flirt and a show off that invites everypony to look at her, and that is what confused Mac. They’ll say she’s competitive, so the idea that she might try to wrestle somepony bigger than her makes sense. They’ll say she’s fast enough to get away from him without even trying, so the fact that she let him catch up to her means she must have wanted it. They’ll say that Mac knew she hates to lose, so when she said stop he just thought she was complaining because he was winning their little game.”

The silence that presses in on us feels is thick and heavy. What little color and bounce Pinkie’s mane had recovered since this morning drains away. We all feel it. Fluttershy just explained an argument Mac could make that even ponies who know me might believe.

“Is there any way to stop it?” I ask, my voice rasping and cracking in my throat.

“Convince Mac to plead guilty instead,” is Twilight’s immediate response. “His sentence will likely be much more lenient if he does that anyway. The really tricky part is that the case is going to be very high profile. I seriously doubt that the magistrates will accept any deal or plea they haven’t fully constructed themselves.”

“High profile?” Rarity shudders.

“Son of founding family, accused of raping one of the Element Bearers? Element of Generosity Delivers Beating? The headlines write themselves.” Twi shrugs.

My brain freezes. Court? Yeah, I knew that was coming. Mac blaming me for everything? Sure. I’ve been doing that too. Rare getting charged with assault? It’s stupid, but Rare doesn’t seem super bugged by it, so I was able to deal with it. But knowing that every pony in Equestria is going to know what happened, and they’re all going to know it happened to me, and they’re all going have stuff to say about it… It’s finally too much. My legs give out. but I’m caught on a tingly blue aura-cushion before I fall more than an inch. I actually don’t even fall enough for anypony to notice, but everypony looks at Rarity to try and figure out why her horn suddenly lit up.

“Well, on that dreadful note,” Rare says opening the door and starting to turn lights on in her kitchen, all while keeping me perfectly supported for the few seconds it takes me to find my hooves again. “I think it’s time to call it a night. Twilight, will you please send a note when you know everypony is home safe and sound?”

“Of course,” Twi answers.

“Thank you.”

There’s another round of hugs. I let these ones last a little longer, even though they freak me out. I start to stumble toward the door, but Rares is still supporting me with her magic, so I kind of let myself collapse and she basically levitates me inside.

Chapter 7: Thursday- Respite

“Are you hungry?” Rarity asks after helping me out of the jacket and hanging it up in a little closet just inside the kitchen door.

I’m starving but it’s late and we’re both exhausted, so I say, “Nah, I’m fine.”

“You know, you really are a terrible liar,” she responds, eyeing me skeptically. Of course, my stomach decides to gurgle hungrily the very next second and her face instantly turns knowingly smug. She probably just asked me if I was hungry to be polite or something. “Salad or sandwich?”

“Sandwich, please,” I answer rolling my eyes and sitting down at the table. “Thanks.”

“It’s really no trouble, darling,” she says totally ignoring my eye-roll and opening the ice box to pull out ingredients.

It’s weird to see her like this. In my brain, Rarity belongs in her workroom or at some party that always looks like the Grand Galloping Gala in my imagination- not in a kitchen doing the same boring stuff everypony else does every day.

“Cider?” she offers poking her head out of the icebox.

“Got anything else?”

She rattles around in the shelves for a second before answering, “Tea, water, juice, wine, and... tequila.”

“Tequila?” I ask, giving her the eyebrow. “Marshmallow, I’m impressed.”

“Sometimes I like to dance.” She shrugs and is so distracted by finding the stuff she wants for her salad that the words come out ironic and bland.

I laugh. It’s my first deep, real laugh since all of this started and I don’t even feel bad about it. It hurts my ribs, but it’s totally worth it.

“We’ll have to do shots sometime,” I chuckle.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid. You wouldn’t be able to keep up and what fun would that be?” Her tone is so casual, with just the right touch of condescending to still be Rarity.

I feel lighter. All the pressure of being around other ponies is gone and all the weight of having to continuously deal with the fact that I got raped is on pause for a few minutes. Being here with Rarity is weird, but it’s a good weird.

It’s not like the two of us haven’t ever hung out just us, but even then I never got to see her like this. Rare in her own house with all her defenses down isn’t a totally different pony than the one I’ve always known. She’s just the best bits of the pony I’ve been friends with for such a long time without all the other crap she puts on in public.

I wonder why the hay she hides so much in manners and drama. I’m one of her best friends and I literally can’t think of a time before now when I thought it would be fun to just hang out at a bar and chill with Rarity. What is she afraid of?

Maybe that isn’t a fair question for somepony like me to ask. It’s not like I don’t turn into a different pony when I’m all by myself because I totally do. The snuggly robe and slippers are a side of me that only Tank gets to see.

“Is wine any good?” I ask distractedly.

“It depends,” she says matching my tone because she’s at the counter now making my sandwich. “There are some horrible options out there, of course, but as it’s my preferred way to wind down at the end of a long day, I generally have something agreeable on hoof.”

“You could’ve just said yes,” I mumble. “Is it what you’re having?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

She sets two plates on the table. Mine has a sandwich with the crust cut off and a mix of daisies, daffodils, cucumbers with some sort of sauce. There are a few carrots in a perfectly neat row next to the sandwich, and a little cup of white stuff that I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to dip the carrots in. There’s also a pile of chips.

“You eat chips?” I ask, popping one into my mouth.

It doesn’t make any sense for the Rarity I know to eat chips. I’ve known her for years and literally never seen her eat anything that could be called chips. She eats salad and the stupid little food that doesn’t taste like anything from trays at fancy parties, or she doesn’t eat at all and makes stupid little comments like ‘not all of us have the metabolism to eat like a garbage disposal, Rainbow Dash.’

“On occasion,” she answers, “I always have them in the house for Sweetie and her friends.”

Her plate totally validates my thoughts about how she eats. There’s a salad made from the same greens as my sandwich but it’s also got strawberries, oranges, and some nuts. She’s got a little cup to the side just like me, but the stuff inside is reddish brown.

I lean over and steal a strawberry off her plate.

“Really, Rainbow.” she swats at me half-heartedly. “You couldn’t just ask for your own strawberries?”

“Nope,” I say through a mouthful of strawberry then swallow. “They taste better when they’re yours, Marshmallow.”

“Ugh.” she rolls her eyes and sits down as she puts two glasses filled with something light pink on the table. I’m giving it a sniff when I hear a crunch that can only be one of my chips.

“You couldn’t get your own?” I snark at her.

“Pilfering from the plates of others seems to be rather in vogue at the moment,” she says with a little wave of her hoof. “Who am I to question fashion?”

It’s my turn to roll my eyes and smile.

We eat in easy silence after that. I think we’re both talked out for now. The wine is good. It tastes like strawberries and doesn’t give me much more of a buzz than a hard cider would have.

Rarity starts picking up dishes and I realize that I haven’t done a damn thing to be helpful since I got here. “Can I help?” I offer.

She looks at me for just a second before answering. It’s pretty close to being the same look she gives Sweetie Belle when she offers to cook. I can’t exactly tell if Rare is surprised that I offered or worried about me messing up her kitchen or myself trying to help. “Do you mind washing the dishes while I put these other things away?” she finally answers.

“Yeah, I can do that.” I try to hop up off the chair and get a very painful reminder from my back end that I shouldn’t be hopping anywhere right now, especially after I’ve been sitting for any length of time.

Rare winces when I flinch, but relaxes when I start taking more careful steps toward the sink. “Thank you, Rainbow,” she says quietly.

“No prob.”

It feels nice to do something normal. I never wash the dishes right after I eat at home. I almost never eat at home, so it isn’t that much of a problem. I have some plates and stuff, but I almost never use them. I think Rarity actually gave me some fancy ones for ‘when you have guests, darling’ but I never have guests. Villa Bella Dash is nice, but it’s kind of out of the way. Plus, I’m friends with a lot of ground ponies. Falling through the floor can be a totally funny prank when it’s set up right, but most ponies really don’t enjoy it and don’t enjoy risking it either.

Moving around the kitchen, trying to stay out of Rarity’s way, watching her put stuff away, feeling her brush up against me absentmindedly as she passes on her way to the pantry- this isn’t our normal, but isn’t super weird either. It’s just something the two of us have ever done before, but it isn’t something I’ve done with any of our other friends either. When I eat at Fluttershy’s or Applejack’s I don’t usually help with the dishes because I don’t want to get in the way. But, I don’t feel like I’m intruding or anything by helping right now. Maybe the weirdest thing about the whole situation is that I notice how not-weird it is.

She finishes putting the food and stuff away, then dries the dishes I washed and puts them in the cabinet. “Ready?” she asks when the kitchen is back to being ridiculously clean.

“Yeah.” I step aside and follow her up the stairs.

She stops at the top and looks down the hall to the guest room and Sweetie’s room. “Where would you prefer to sleep?”

Instantly, I feel like an idiot for not being ready for the question. Of course, she wants some space. I’ve been crowding since she found me. I just assumed that I was sleeping in her bed again, which is totally stupid. She’s Rarity! She’s been awesome about helping me and not making me feel bad for stuff, but she’s literally seen every busted up part of me. She isn’t going to want to sleep next to somepony that’s dirty and ruined like this. I can’t blame her for wanting some distance. Plus, it’s probably not a good idea to keep using her as a security blanket to keep all the memories and stuff away. I just didn’t think she’d push me away so soon. I just thought she’d give me at least one more night to get myself together.

Most ponies in my situation probably wouldn’t even want to sleep next to somepony after what happened. They’d probably just want to be left alone, but I don’t want to be alone. That’s the very last thing I want, but she’s already done enough. Plus, I don’t want her to do anything because she feels bad for me.

A gentle nuzzle pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts. I didn’t realize it, but my ears pinned back against my head and I started crying the second she asked the question. Then I took way too long to answer.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly and brushes my mane back, off my face. She sounds so tired and there’s a little trickle of tears working their way down her face. “I just didn’t want to assume anything. You’ve been through enough today without being forced to sleep in a bed you don’t want. That was all I intended.”

“I want to sleep with you,” I answer quickly, feeling way more relieved than I want to admit. Then I realize what I said and how it sounds, so I follow up a totally uncool, “If that’s cool with you.”

She smiles a little and then lets out a big, deep sigh and nuzzles me again. “Please.”

We both sag as we walk through the door to Rarity’s room. It feels like we haven’t been here in weeks. I don’t know when she did it, but Rare cleaned up at some point. The room wasn’t exactly messy when we left, but the cushions Twilight and Fluttershy sat on are put away and the bed is made perfectly. Like, even the Wonderbolts drill sergeant couldn’t find a wrinkle on it if she tried.

“Would you like a shower?” Rare offers from inside her closet.

I shrug. I felt dirty and weak during the interview. Having a doctor and camera literally documenting everything that’s wrong with me didn’t help. I feel gross in more ways than I ever would have imagined. Trying to wash all of that down the drain probably isn’t going to work, but it’s better than nothing. “Sure.”

“Will you be needing assistance?” she asks, reemerging without the blue jacket she was wearing before.

Every one of my muscles is feeling the strain of pushing way too hard today. Collapsing on the bottom of her huge tub sounds amazing. Having her wash my mane for me, so I don’t have stretch, sounds like a really good idea too. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” she says heading into the bathroom.

“Cool.”

“Rainbow?” she hesitates at the door and gives me pleading little look.

“Yeah?”

“Would it be alright if we took a bath instead? A soak sounds heavenly. I can add a few things to help soothe your bumps as bruises as well.”

“Sure, Marshmallow. Whatever.” I smile a little bit to myself. Only Rarity would describe getting beat up so bad I barely escaped the hospital as ‘bumps and bruises.’ She plugs the drain and I hear the water start running, plus some other sounds that I still don’t recognize.

For the first time, I really look around Rarity’s bedroom and actually see it. I haven’t been in here for a long time, not since she moved her workroom downstairs a while back. It’s nice. It isn’t as big as my bedroom since I remodeled, which is probably a good thing. I’ve actually been thinking about making my room smaller again. It’s so big now that it just feels empty all the time. I expanded it so I could practice a trick, but I don’t need the extra space anymore.

Rare’s room is open enough for a pony to move, but it has enough stuff to feel like it isn’t missing anything. There’s little desk thing with a mirror and brushes and stuff in one corner. It has a matching little bench. There’s a fainting couch in the corner with a little table and a couple of bookshelves by it. There’s the door to her closet. The whole thing is fancy, but it’s also way more cool and comfortable than I remember. Everything looks clean and quiet. The bed is big, but not huge. The colors all match and the whole place is just...peaceful.

“It’s not a bad space, is it?” I don’t know when she got there but her voice doesn’t startle me. It just adds to the whole homey vibe.

“I like it. I like being here. Thanks for letting me stay, Rare.”

“Of course. I’m pleased you feel comfortable here, although I do wish the circumstances were better. Are you ready?”

I nod and follow her into the bathroom. It smells AMAZING! Like flowers and a bunch of other really good stuff all mixed together. There’s a curtain of steam as I walk through the doorway that makes all of my muscles start to relax at once. It’s one of those times when I’m almost freaked out by how tight everything was when I didn’t even realize it.

“Hey, Rare? Is that numbing thing still happening?” I ask flexing my wings a little bit. I’m sure I’m not numb anymore because I just realized I can feel my wings just fine. I just don’t remember her doing anything to mess with the spell on them.

“No. I finished removing it while you were doing dishes.”

“Really? How did I miss that?”

She giggles. “Yes, darling. That sort of thing is best done when the target isn’t paying attention. That way the pony in question isn’t even aware of the return of sensation, particularly the pain. You have been particularly accommodating in that regard as usual.”

“Huh, cool. Thanks.” It takes me a few seconds to really process all of what she said, by the time realize she was teasing me at the end about not paying attention it’s too late to do anything but glare at her for a second and watch her act like she can’t see me.

I don’t know why I thought there’d be bubbles in the tub, but there aren’t any. There are a few flowers floating around though. I want to hop in, but my wings are useless and I’m not Pinkie Pie, so that would just make a big mess.

“Would you like some help?” Rares asks.

“Nah, I can do it.”

“I know you can, darling,but you’re staring at it like it’s Froggy Bottom Bog. I promise it’s safe.”

“What did you put in it?” I sniff at the flowery smells that are all mixed together. If Applejack knew that I was this happy about getting in a tub that smelled like this, she’d never stop teasing me.

“A few oils to soothe and rejuvenate your muscles and coat and a few dried blossoms for fragrance. Nothing much. Don’t eat the flowers. Sweetie tried one once, despite the hilarity it was an awful experience for her.”

I nod and climb carefully into the tub. “Sweet Celestia! That feels good!” I hum and sink deeper into the water. It’s just the right temperature hot, but not uncomfortable.

“Rainbow?” Rare asks hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Would it be alright if I…” she takes a little breath, “held you for a little while?” For half a second it seems like she’s going to say more like she’s going to give me a bunch of reasons why I should be ok with telling her yes. Maybe, she decides that I already know the reasons; or maybe, she decides that she shouldn’t be trying to get me to do stuff right now. Either way, she quietly snaps her mouth shut instead of saying anything else.

All day, she’s been the only pony that genuinely made me feel like I could tell her not to touch me and she’d listen without getting offended. Nopony else acted like they could handle it. The others didn’t know what to do to help, so they did the obvious thing and kept hugging me. They tried to be brave, but I honestly don’t know what they would’ve done if I’d said that the one thing they kept doing to try and help me was freaking me out because then they would’ve had nothing to do.

Somehow, Rare already knew there was nothing she could do to help. All she could do was not make things worse. There wasn’t one time today where Rarity asked me to do anything. That’s kind of the reason I never wanted to tell Rarity no. She made sure I was taken care of and that I got where I needed to be. I did what I could and she covered the rest. Maybe the others would’ve done that if they had the chance, but today it was just Rarity. She stepped up to be my wingmare like she didn’t even have to think about it.

Now her voice sounds different than it has all day. It’s almost like I’m finally getting to see the Rarity I’ve always known. Like that pony that’s been holding me up all day is gone and now I just get to see my friend who is worried about me and wants to hug me and make sure I’m ok, just like all of the others. She’s been holding me off and on for most of the day, so it kind of surprises me she even feels like she needs to ask, but she is really asking. I can say no and she’ll listen. She probably won’t even make a face or anything.

“Sure, Marshmallow.” I shrug. “It’s no big deal.” I try to play off any possible weirdness that comes from thinking about cuddling with Rarity in a bathtub and sink a little deeper into the water.

“Thank you,” she exhales, then finishes taking the braids out of her mane and tail. Her hair is all crinkly and messy, but it still looks kinda good somehow because she’s Rarity.

When she’s done, I scoot forward so she can climb in behind me. Before I can lean back against her, she says, “Wait just a moment please.”

There’s a bowl thing with a little spout sitting on the side of the tub. It’s the grown-up version of a tub cup I’ve seen for washing foals. She fills it with water and then slowly pours the water on her head.

From the sounds she makes and the way her body relaxes, I’m guessing it must feel awesome. “Do I get a turn?” I ask.

“Of course, if you’d like one.” She fills the bowl again and warm water slowly pours down on my head. My eyes drift shut and I don’t even try to not make my own little happy noises while she does it. It’s literally the best feeling ever.

“Again?” she offers.

“Oh yeah.” I get doused a dozen times before she puts the cup down and leans against the back of the tub. It only takes me a second to get comfortably situated so I can relax my back into her chest and kind of rest my head on her shoulder and neck.

When I’m settled she gives me that questioning little look from last night, the one she gave me everytime she wanted to touch me; the super toned down version of the expression she had just barely when she asked if she could hold me. I nod and she gently, but firmly, wraps her hooves around me. I loop my forelegs around one of hers, holding it to my chest and starting to draw flight patterns on her cannon again. She lightly kisses the gash on my forehead above my swollen eye like a mom kissing an owie on a filly.

We both take deep breaths in the suddenly peaceful stillness. There’s no pressure to say anything or do anything, so I let my world shrink down to just being here and feeling safe and relaxed.

Maybe it’s because I’m facing away from her, or because after everything we’ve been through together in the past 24 hours taking a bath together just isn’t that weird, either way having her hold me doesn’t freak me out or feel awkward at all. It feels good. I feel like I can let go. I can break into pieces or let myself go numb, or let my brain go completely quiet because I know I’ll be ok. Rarity’s not going to judge me or let anything bad happen to me.

On a normal day, I could totally fall asleep like this- not that Rare and I would ever be hanging out together in a bathtub on a normal day. I don’t usually like baths very much, or I don’t think I do because they’re boring. It’s just sitting around doing nothing. Once in a while, after a crash or a really hard training session, the Wonderbolts trainer will tell me that I have to take a bath with salts and stuff to get my muscles to relax or something. It sucks because Twilight has that stupid rule about no library books by bathtubs, so I can’t even read. I just have to sit there.

This isn’t like that. This makes me think I finally understand why Rarity and Fluttershy go to the spa every week. Rare is always busy. She’s always got something to do. There’s always another customer asking her for something or another design that needs to be ‘simply fabulous’ by some impossible deadline that she never misses- no matter how much sleep she has to lose to get it done. Or, there’s some new friendship problem to help solve. But in a bath like this, all she has to do is be here and relax. That’s all she can do. It’s like a Rarity version of a nap and she usually only lets herself have that kind of a break once a week.

I close my eyes and remember the look on her face the second she walked out of that interrogation. I wonder how many times she’s had to throw up that wall of perfectly polite and perky prissiness to be able to do it so well even when she’s exhausted. It must have been a lot because I never really noticed it before. It’s a totally effortless thing for her.

I can’t even begin to try and count the number of times I’ve seen her do it, but it was never like today. I’ve never seen the mask crack before. Sure, there are times she doesn’t hold onto the whole cool, calm, and collected thing and she breaks out in that ridiculous sob of hers instead, wailing about ‘The Worst. Possible. Thing!’ Today, she was trying to be controlled and she almost lost it, because today was probably one of the worst damn days of her whole life.

Tears start rolling down my face because of what she’s going through. It’s my fault. She just had one of the worst days of her life because of me, and I can’t even say sorry because I’m so glad it was her that saved me. I never would’ve thought she’d be the one to help me through something like this, but now I can’t imagine asking anypony else to help me. I’d die for her if she needed me to, but now I’m the one having to ask her to do way more for me than either of us ever expected.

The worst part is that I know I’m not done putting her through hell to help me. She’ll do it too, and it will make her happy. She’ll keep stepping up to be whatever I need. If I need somepony to hold me, Rare will be there. If I need somepony to keep everypony else away so I don’t snap, she’ll put a ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’ sign on The Boutique and stand guard for me. I have no idea what exactly I’m going to need from her, but I know some of the stuff I might need will suck for her but she’ll do it with a smile on her perfectly made-up face.

She pulls me a little closer. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks softly.

“You were awesome today,” I sniffle, “Thanks.”

“We did well, all things considered.”

“Did you lose your cool at all when they were questioning you?”

“Many times,” she answers. “None that they saw, of course. A lady mustn't reveal her distress at such times.”

I’ve never noticed the subtle sarcasm when she says stuff like that. Normally, I’d just roll my eyes at her but now that I’m keyed in on her masquerade habit, it’s easy to recognize. She obviously knows she’s being dramatic, which shouldn’t be surprising but it is. I always thought she just couldn’t stop herself from being all over the top, but now it’s pretty clear that she does it deliberately and I wonder why.

I give myself a minute to be quiet and feel bad as I think through other times where I should have noticed Rarity hiding stuff in all that pretentious crap, then I force myself to move on to something else- anything else. I can’t go back and make myself pay more attention to how Rarity said stuff. Even if I could, maybe she’s just being less careful now because of what happened and there wasn’t even anything for me to notice before.

“Rare,” I finally say after drawing another formation into her fur, “How good at magic are you really?”

She scoffs a little in my ear. “I’m no Twilight Sparkle, darling. With a little effort,” she muses, “I suppose I’m ever so slightly more gifted than the average unicorn.”

“Hearing you be modest is weird.”

“A lady is always modest, Rainbow.”

I roll my eyes but keep my retort to myself. “How did you know what to do to my wings at the hospital?”

“Oh, in preparation for our little adventures, I’ve taken a few basic medical magic courses.” She shrugs like being able to numb a pony’s wing better than trained medical ponies is no big deal. “Thankfully, we’ve never really needed to make use of that particular skill set. However, Sweetie and her friends have provided ample opportunities for practice. Scootaloo did some damage to her wing during one of their experiments a few years ago. That was the first time I tried that bit of magic on a pegasus. I didn’t do so well for her as I did for you, but the damage was must less severe.”

I slap a hoof over my good eye. “Shit! Scoots…”

“What’s wrong?” Rare tries to sit up, but I lean back to keep her where she is.

“Everything’s ok. I just need to figure out what I’m going to tell her and I need to talk to her tomorrow before she hears anything from anypony else.”

“Oh.” She relaxes back down into the tub. “Of course.” She pushes one of the little floating flowers around for a second. “Shall I invite her over for dinner? I’ll need to speak with Sweetie Belle as well.”

“Yeah. Might as well have Apple Bloom and AJ over too.”

I feel her nod. Then there’s a little pause where she starts running her hoof through my mane again. “Yes, I suppose that is a good idea. Without a doubt, Apple Bloom will have relayed the events of this morning to the others.”

“You don’t think AJ told her everything, do you?”

“I seriously doubt it. Applejack is fiercely protective of her sister. Apple Bloom has tremendous affection for her brother. I can’t believe Applejack or Granny Smith would have told Apple Boom of their suspicions until they could be absolutely certain they weren’t upsetting her unnecessarily.”

“I hope you’re right. Telling Scoots is going to suck bad enough without her being pissed off about finding out from anypony but me.”

“Indeed,” she mumbles.

We’re silent for a few minutes. I really don’t know what I’m going to say to Scootaloo. She isn’t a kid anymore, but she isn’t exactly a grown up either. I’d rather not tell her at all, but there’s no way to keep it from her without hurting her feelings. How am I supposed to tell her that I didn’t get away? How the hay am I supposed to explain when I don’t even understand it?

I keep playing it over and over in my mind. I should’ve taken off the second I got outside before Mac pushed off the wall. Or, I shouldn’t have been such a pansy and wanted to go around the corner to take off. Why in the hell did I care if he watched me take off? When he started crowding me, why didn’t I just go? It’s not like I’m known for being polite about my take offs. I’ve knocked plenty of ponies on their plots just because I wasn’t paying attention. So, why did I suddenly care so damn much?

“It was good of you to make peace with Applejack today,” Rarity says pulling me out of my tailspin of unanswerable questions.

“I guess.” I shrug. “It isn’t her fault everything is fucked up. I don’t blame her for anything.”

“Oh, I know you don’t, but you didn’t have to hug her. You endured a lot of physical contact you didn’t want today.”

I sink a little deeper into the water. It’s not like she’s wrong. I just don’t know what to say about it.

“I’m sure nopony apart from me noticed,” she reassures me. “Your secret is safe with me. Nopony would believe me if I told them you were being self-sacrificing anyway,” she teases. Then her voice gets serious again. “Although, I do wish you’d let yourself be a little more selfish about it. You have the right to tell them no if you need to, Rainbow.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it’s just easier to let them hug me and move on. Plus, it wasn’t like that with AJ.” It’s true. I hugged AJ. I didn’t just let her hug me. I’m not totally sure why the difference matters but it does.

“I suppose…” She lets the words drift off into nothing. Then she starts humming. Her hoof moves from my mane to wander aimlessly up and down my foreleg. It reminds me of something my mom used to do when we snuggled when I was a kid. She’d drag her hoof up and down my spine between my wings, making little patterns and stuff. It was one of the ways she got me to calm down before bed.

I focus on the feeling and Rarity’s humming. I don’t recognize the tune but it’s soft and soothing. I start to fall asleep. Dozing like I do when I know I don’t have much longer to sleep before I have to get up.

After a while, Rarity says something to me but I don’t really hear it. I just twist into her neck a little to get more comfortable. She giggles and smooches my head again, so I snuggle in even more. She flinches the tiniest bit when the back of my head rolls over the spot where I bit her.

“Sorry,” I mumble, quickly rolling my head back to where it was.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Rainbow,” she quietly reassures me then starts humming again and I really drift off.

The sound of the drain plug being pulled wakes me up just enough to recognize the strange, comforting, tingling feeling of Rarity’s aura cradling me. It lifts me out of the tub and wraps me in a towel like a little foal.

“You’re going to be a good mom, Marshmallow,” I mumble because I’m not awake enough to filter. My eyes aren’t open, so I can’t be sure, but I think she smiles.

“Thank you, Rainbow,” she says after a beat. Then she says under her breath, “You’re very sweet when you think nopony is watching you.”

I’m not awake enough to think up a comeback, so I just kind of grunt.

Floating through the air by magic feels a little like being on a cloud. I’ve missed clouds. I think this is the longest I’ve ever gone without at least touching a cloud. “Rare?” I ask through my sleepy haze, “Can you just hold me like this for a while?”

“Of course.”

“It feels like clouds,” I hum snuggling into the feeling, “but tingly.”

She laughs a little. I can almost hear her roll her eyes at me and it makes me almost smile. “Sleep, darling.”

“K.”

I still don’t totally fall asleep though. I listen to her. She’s brushing her mane and her tail, quietly mumbling something about ‘a frightful state things.’ Water runs for a minute, I’m guessing that was her washing her face. There’s a spritz of something that smells nice, flowery but subtle. Then there’s a sandpaper kind of sound that I can’t figure out. I open one eye, realize it’s the one that’s basically swollen shut, and switch to the good one. The sound is a file. She’s buffing her hooves, which I’m just noticing are seriously chipped.

“What happened to your hooves?”

“I made my weekly trek to the gem quarry yesterday. I go every Wednesday,” she answers thoughtlessly, apparently not at all surprised that I’m awake but still fine with holding me in mid-air like a balloon on a string.

“That’s it?” I raise my eyebrow at her. “That’s some serious damage.”

“You’re one to talk. Have you seen your hooves lately?”

I ignore her. I’m remembering that she goes to the spa with Flutters on Thursdays. Sometimes, they don’t have enough time to do all their normal junk, and Rarity just gets a hooficure. That makes a lot more sense now. I didn’t know she went rockhounding every week though. Maybe that’s how she got all those muscles she used to tote me around like a purse last night.

She isn’t doing a great job with her hooves. She must have noticed a rough edge or something, because she just hits a few spots then switches files, picking up a smaller one with her forehoof. I expect her to set me down. I don’t know how I know a unicorn can’t file their horn while using their magic, but it is a thing I know. She just closes her eyes and makes her concentrated face for a minute. Then her horn goes out but I stay where I am. I’m awake enough now that I could probably stand up but I’m warm and still really liking the floating feeling, so I’m totally happy just to hang out and watch.

“Why do you do that?” I ask. I’ve never seen a unicorn file their horn before. Or, I’ve never paid attention to a unicorn filing their horn before. I’m pretty sure I’ve been around at the spa when Rare and Twilight had their horns done at least once.

“Hmmm?”

“To your horn,” I nod at it.

She stares at her horn in the mirror for a minute while she figures out how to answer my question. “I suppose it’s hygienically comparable to preening,” she explains. “The outer layers of a unicorn’s horn are protective, not conductive. When the outer layer becomes dirty or overgrown, it puts a damper on one’s ability to use their magic.”

That makes sense. Normally, I preen twice a day every day. If I don’t, then I can totally feel the difference.

“The innermost layer of the horn is called the root,” she continues, now actively tending to her horn and using the file to point at places as she explains them. “It’s a magical conduit that runs from the tip of the horn, through the brain, and into the heart. Trimming one’s horn too much can be incredibly painful and dangerous.”

“Kinda like breaking a wing?”

“Precisely. That said, allowing the tip of one’s horn to become overgrown may inhibit a unicorn’s ability to perform magic altogether. It’s important to buff the tip enough to remove outer protective layers, but leave the strong, conductive, more brilliant inner layers intact.”

“So, you file the tip until it’s shiny?”

“Correct.”

“What about the twisty part?”

“Oh that’s all style,” she grins.

“Which is why you can almost never see Twilight’s?”

“Ugh. Correct again. Unless she goes to the spa, which I can never convince her to do often enough,” she admits with a disappointed sigh. “She’s a princess for Celestia’s sake, she could make a bit more of an effort. Now Celestia, there’s a mare that knows how to make the most of the horn the Gods gave her.”

Knowing that it’s a style thing makes me look at Rarity’s horn differently. Obviously, she invests more time in how her horn looks than Twilight, but it’s really nothing fancy. I’ve seen some unis do some crazy shit to their horns.

“Did you ever meet Shaft?” I ask, thinking about one of the unicorn stallions in town.

“Oh, goddesses.” She facehoofs. “Yes.”

“I’m guessing you aren’t a fan?” I chuckle as I remember the bright green unicorn who keeps his horn groomed so the whole thing is super shiny and almost curly.

“He looks like an idiot,” she grumbles. “Grinding away at his horn like that isn’t just dangerous and stupid; it’s utterly in poor taste.”

It’s weird to hear her be so down on someone else’s style like that. I mean, Rare has her opinions. Usually, she’s more forgiving toward stuff she doesn’t agree with though. “Why is it dangerous? I thought you said the shiny part was extra strong.”

“At the tip, yes. Near the base, where the root is larger, the inner luminescent layers soften and the outer layers thicken. Shaft’s horn choices leave him very vulnerable. Celestia forbid, he bumps into a door or something in the middle of the night. He could kill himself at worst; at best give himself a most powerful migraine.”

“Really? Well, it’s never been a secret that Shaft wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.”

“That’s not even mentioning that he’s magically impotent when he’s groomed like that. Another reason for maintaining the opaque outer portion to come to a translucent tip is because it allows for magical focus.”

“You know that if you ever talk dirty like this to Twilight, she’s going to fall in love with you, right?”

“Poor dear,” she sighs with all her usual drama and a little shrug. “There’s just nothing to be done about that I’m afraid. Perhaps she can talk Fluttershy into some sort of triad arrangement. They are absolutely adorable together. I can’t say I’d complain.”

I laugh. “You’d be the fussiest herd I’ve ever seen.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Herd. Well, there’s that fantasy ruined. Thank you very much. Poor Twilight, she’ll be so heartbroken.”

She leans in toward the mirror and bites her lower lip while she cuts in the fluting a little bit more. It looks like the kind of thing she’ll yell at me for screwing up, so I try to just be quiet and not distract her. For the first time since.... ever, I really look her horn.

Rare is my friend but I’m not blind. She’s hot. I noticed. Her horn was never a part of her hotness to me before though. It was just kind of there. Now I’m noticing it and it’s something that is just so Rarity- beautiful and powerful. Her horn is a part of her, just like my wings are part of me. Seeing her like this; just going through her routine without being so damn dramatic is awesome.

It’s like seeing somepony who obviously takes good care of their wings and not to show off or anything like that. They just do it because they’re proud to be pegasi and good wing care is part of that. Rare’s proud to be a unicorn. Taking care of her horn isn’t about being fussy. It’s about taking care of herself and being able to use her magic how she wants when she wants. Now that I’m actually taking the time to think about it, it’s easy to realize that I really respect that about Rarity.

“Are you alright?” she asks because I’m staring and not in a ‘staring off into the distance’ kind of way, but in a slightly dopey-eyed, admiring way that would make me look an idiot on a normal day and is just plain wrong today. Of course, she noticed but her tone isn’t awkward or weirded out or anything, but I suddenly feel guilty for looking at her like that. “Do you need anything?” she asks again gently when my expression drops.

“Nah.” I shake my head to get all the weird thoughts out. “I’m good. Just got caught up thinking about something. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, darling,” she says casually. If she noticed the look I was giving her a second ago, she’s giving me a pass and not asking me about it. “Now, are you ready to stand and get groomed like a good little filly?”

I blink my eyes and shake out my head again. She’s just teasing me about being lazy. I know that. She’s done the same thing a thousand times before. She isn’t hitting on me. It’s supposed to be a joke. So, why do I feel disappointed all of the sudden?

Maybe it’s because I can hear in my mind how she could have said those words. Not that she ever would have, because we aren’t like that. We never have been. She’s obviously not trying to be sexy or anything like that, because that would be totally messed up and so not us.

It would be weird to seriously think about Rarity like that even if some stallion hadn’t shoved his dick inside me and ruined my life yesterday, but for some reason I just had an image flash across my mind of how awesome life could be if we were like that; if I could have this safe, peaceful, and protected feeling with somepony I respect and trust all the time.

“Maybe we can just preen my wings and go to sleep.” I try for my normal cool voice, but it comes out all wrong. I’m getting weird feelings for a friend that’s just trying to help me. I’ve never been great at timing crap like that, but this is just so fucked up that I can barely handle myself.

“If you insist,” she says a little skeptical but she doesn’t push any more than that. She just floats me over to the bed and sets me down gently. “May I brush your mane?”

I almost tell her no, but I know it will feel good and maybe it will distract her from asking me anything about why I’m suddenly acting like somepony just drank the last of the cider before I got any. So, I nod. “Sure. Thanks”

She grabs a couple of brushes from her little desk thing then climbs onto the bed in front of me. She slips the little band on the back of the brush over her hoof and starts working the bristles through the ends of my hair. There aren’t nearly as many knots as I’m used to, but she’s being super careful anyway. She’s always been good about not pulling too hard when she does my mane for me. She kind of laughed at me the first time she helped me get ready for anything fancy, because that’s when she realized that I’m a total tender-head.

Fluttershy can handle having a brush yanked through the giant tangles that some of her critters make when they try to nest in her mane. Me? I hate getting my mane pulled. I always have. It’s one of the reasons I usually keep my mane shorter than most mares.

“Would you like to talk about what got you so downtrodden in the bathroom just a moment ago?” she asks in that off-hoof kind of way that makes it totally obvious she knows something’s up but she’ll pretend not to be interested if I say I’d rather not talk about it. That’s what I get for thinking this girly stuff would distract her. I should’ve remembered the thousands of sleepovers we’ve been to together where she used makeover time to double as gossip hour.

The difference is that this time I can tell that if I say no, there’s a decent chance she won’t push back like she normally would and try to get me to talk. I really don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing I can say. Maybe if I’d had some weird moment of thoughts, or feelings, or whatever it was about somepony else then I could talk to her about it, but I don’t want to make things weird between us. So, I shake my head a little and say, “No. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Rainbow,” she chides me. “You don’t owe me any explanations. Of course,” her voice lifts in a tantalizing little way, “if you decide you would like to talk about whatever it was, then I will be glad to listen.”

I chuckle at how much she obviously wants me to talk and smile appreciatively at the fact that she really will let me drop it for now. “Thanks, Marshmallow.”

She only shows her disappointment in the tiniest little pout, but it only lasts for a second, then she says, “You are very welcome. Now, are you sure you wouldn’t like your coat brushed? You know you’ll be all ruffed and fluffy and matted tomorrow if you don’t.”

Having her brush me felt really good earlier today, and I’m feeling pretty awake now so I’d really like it, but I’m still feeling kind of weird and I don’t want to take advantage of her or anything. “I just know you’re tired, Rares. I don’t want to wear you out.”

That was the wrong thing to say. She gasps a little and looks kind of offended for a second, but then she sighs and reaches for my hoof, which I give to her. “Rainbow, I need you to look at me and listen to what I have to say,” she says in her most serious tone. Even with everything that’s happened, it’s still a voice I’ve almost never heard her use, so I do what she says.

“Rainbow, please let me take care of you the best way I know how. I want to do it. I will never forgive myself if I ever do less than that for you. I know the situation is strenuous, but I desperately want you to believe me when I say that there is nothing you could ask of me that I wouldn’t willingly and happily give.

“Perhaps it is selfish of me to want to be the pony that assists and cares for you through all of this, but it’s how I feel. Going through this together makes me feel better. I truly hope it does for you too, but if not then-”

“Then nothing, Rare,” I cut her off, then wait for a second for her to get on my case for being rude, but she doesn’t say anything. She just waits. “It makes me feel better too,” I admit. Random weird thoughts or no, Rarity is still the only thing that really makes anything feel any better right now. There’s just no point in pretending that isn’t true.

Her shoulders relax from a tension I didn’t notice before. Maybe she was really worried that I’d tell her I can just take care of myself and that I don’t need her help. I can’t blame her for worrying about that. Any other day, that’s exactly what I would have said.

“I’m sorry for what happened earlier,” she says after a few seconds pause.

“For what?” I ask too loudly because I’m surprised she’s apologizing to me when she hasn’t done anything wrong.

“My question about your sleeping preference,” she explains, “I fear you misunderstood me and I want to be clear about something. I want you here- with me- not just here in The Boutique but here.” She waves around the room. “This is my sanctuary from the world and you are welcome for as long as you wish to stay.”

I pull her into a hug and squeeze her as hard as I can. She wraps her hooves around me too gently. “You won’t break me, Rare.”

“You’re already broken, darling,” she says with a fake little laugh that totally fails to hide the sadness and worry behind the words.

“So, you won’t make it worse by hugging me like you mean it,” I snap back and squeeze her a little tighter.

“What if I already am?” she teases a little more genuinely.

“Bullshit. Now, mare up and hug me, Marshmallow.”

She takes a big breath and leans into me. It’s the best hug I’ve ever had. Rarity hugs me with her whole body and my broken, bruised, and battered body answers back perfectly. She’s soft like Fluttershy, but strong like Applejack, and she squeezes me in all the right places to make me smile just like Pinkie (although it’s different places when Pinkie hugs me). We fit together like feathers meant and made to fly next to each other and that feeling from earlier when I was looking at her comes back. The happy one when I realized how awesome she is.

“Better?” she asks.

“It’s not bad,” I hum happily into her shoulder.

She squeezes a little harder for a second then relaxes. “Well, I’ll work on it. Now, release me and come to the bathroom. Your coat is a mess.”

“Fine. Whatever.” I know I could say no, but why try? She’s right about my coat, so I let her go and follow her into the bathroom where she’s grabbing way more stuff than she should be. “Are you going to turn me into a pickle or something?”

The look she gives me is priceless. She says, “I’m not certain. I haven’t ruled it out, but I don’t think I have the proper product for it.”

Chapter 8: Thursday- Preening

Rare shows me the first bottle of stuff: dry shampoo. Considering we didn’t actually wash anything during our bath, this one makes some sense. She rubs it into my mane and tail with her hooves, always giving me a look and waiting for me to nod before she touches a new place. Somehow, she manages to apply pressure and work the stuff through my mane and tail without pulling on anything enough to hurt.

The next thing is some kind of detangler/conditioner that she spritzes all over me. The spray tickles my nose and I recognize the smell from when she used it on herself earlier.

“I’ve always been fascinated by your mane,” she says as she starts brushing my mane by hoof again. My mane has already been brushed more today than I’ve brushed it in the last month or more, but Rarity doesn’t seem to care about that and she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop.

“You and everypony else.” I shrug and flick a little strand back off my face.

“Family trait?”

“Yeah. My dad’s got it. I think one of my great-grandmares had it too.”

“Hmm.”

She works quietly for a while then moves to my tail. I take a chance and look in the mirror. The swelling in my eye is starting to go down a bit, but the bruise is just starting to surface. It’s going to be one nasty black eye. I’m sure Rare has makeup in my shade in case of fashion emergencies or whatever, but I’m not sure even Rarity will be able to cover up something this bad. My mane is flat, but it looks awesome. It’s all smooth and a shiny. The colors look better than they have in a long time too. Maybe that’s just because Rarity’s bathroom has better lighting than mine, or maybe it’s because I’m actually looking at it for more than half a second.

Without thinking, I fluff my feathers to see how their doing, which is stupid because it hurts a lot. I’ve been cradling my wings pretty much all day without even thinking about it, so the main joints are stiff. Plus, the extra tension isn’t helping with the soreness at all. So, the smallest absent minded movement feels like needles stabbing all over my wing and like things inside are ripping apart all over again.

Rares catches my eye in the mirror when I flinch. “I’m ok,” I groan. “I just forgot for a sec that my wings aren’t feeling as awesome as my mane looks.”

Her big blue eyes give my wings a sad little look. “They’ll feel better soon,” she reassures me. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

“About what?”

She shows me another bottle. Dry shampoo again but this one is for coats instead of manes. According to the bottle, there are at least four serious differences between this stuff and the stuff she just used. Then she shows me another one. It’s some sort of oil or ointment for ‘soothing and healing minor injuries.’ I nod at both of them and she goes to work with the shampoo first massaging it gently into my coat but carefully avoiding my wings.

“Well,” she says as she moves from my chest around to my shoulder. “I read somewhere that flying is a key component in the healing process for a pegasus.”

“Yeah. It’s got something to do with pegasus magic interacting with the air and clouds. It’s pretty rare to see a pegasus that flies regularly with a bruise. They just don’t stick around if you fly enough.”

“Will your bruises remain until you start flying?”

“Depends.” I look at the bruises on my neck that are starting to change color a little bit. They look darker than they did this morning. “The doc said I’m at least a month away from flying. I won’t heal as fast an earth pony or unicorn, since I can’t fly, but if I eat right and stuff then most of these should be gone by the time I can get back in the air. I don’t have to fly to heal. It just makes it go quicker.”

“Perhaps we can ask Twilight to do some research about using unicorn magic to help heal pegasi injuries? I’m sure it’s been attempted, but I’m not certain of the crossover. What do you think?”

I don’t answer right away, which makes her quirk her eyebrow at me in the mirror. “I think I’m pissed at Twilight,” I blurt out, “and don’t want to ask her for anything.”

“I know she-”

“No. You don’t.”

“What exactly did she do that I don’t know about, Rainbow?”

I know what Rarity is going to say. She’s going to be all reasonable and fair-minded and generous and say that Twilight was just explaining stuff to Spike at the guard station. She’s going to remind me we both know whose side Twilight is really on in all of this. She’s going point out that I’m not being fair, and she’ll be right, but I’m not ready to just get over feeling like Twi’s been acting shitty. So, I find a really interesting pattern on the floor and mumble, “Nothing.”

“Oh, forgive me for misunderstanding, darling,” she laughs and presses a hoof lightly to her chest. “What you’re saying is that the bearer of the Element of Loyalty is just harboring a grudge against one of her best friends for no particular reason whatsoever?”

“Yep.” For half a second, I let myself believe that Rarity is just going to let it go. She’s backed off of enough other stuff in the past twenty-four hours that it could be a legitimate possibility. Except that when I look up and meet her knowing gaze in the mirror, she might as well have a giant, flashing sign that says ‘not letting this one go!’

“What did she say about me, Dash?” she says without a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

I don’t answer. I just grit my teeth and look down at the floor again.

When Rarity is done with the shampoo, she puts some of the oil stuff on the body brush. Then she starts brushing my neck. It feels really good. Tender in a few spots, but Rarity is being really careful. I close my eyes and let a little part of my brain be even more angry at Twilight for what she said about Rarity. Rares is awesome and anypony that says different is going to have to deal with me.

“Shall I guess?” she says ending my little moment of quiet, isolated anger.

I ignore her.

“It didn’t have anything to do with explaining why I’m being charged with assault, did it?”

My tail flicks in irritation without permission from my brain. It hurts and it gives me away.

“Do you really think Twilight believes that I deserve to be convicted of assault?”

Still not answering. Focusing on the brushing.

“Rainbow…” She sounds exasperated with me now.

“What Rarity?” I snap back. “I’m supposed to just be ok with her making it sound like you deserve to get in trouble for helping me? I’m supposed to be ok with her defending Mac’s right to go after you like that? I’m supposed to be ok with the idea that he gets to try and ruin your life too? Is that how I’m supposed to feel? I’m just supposed to be ok that she’s not just on my side because she's so busy being all logical and reasonable all the damn time?” My voice cracks and I look down at the floor again. Angry tears are rolling down my face and my coat is bristling, making the steady brush strokes totally pointless.

Rare doesn’t care. She just keeps brushing. When she finally answers, it’s an honestly calm, patient, and understanding voice. “No, Rainbow. I don’t expect you to be comfortable with any of that. However, the Dash I know and love cares for her friend enough to be more forgiving.

“Twilight believes in order and in the importance of rules, but she doesn’t want me dragged in front of a court of law any more than you do and you know it. Furthermore, you also know that it’s confusing and uncomfortable for her to disagree with something like this.

“Most importantly, you know that Twilight is probably already spending every possible moment in her library working on my defense or finding some precedent to keep me out of the situation altogether.

“I daresay she expected Celestia would simply save you and me from all this mess, and when she didn’t Twilight did as she always does and followed Celestia’s instructions without question. I can’t say I understand the Princess’s reasoning just yet, but I’m sure it will all come to light in due time. For the time being, I agree with Twilight that it is better to have this all handled properly the first time to save ourselves from being perpetually pulled back into the mire for the sake of silly mistakes.

“It’s been a difficult day for all of us, Rainbow. We all know that Twilight can hide behind recitation in moments of duress. Logic and reason are her first lines of defense. They are cold and brutal defenses sometimes but they are how she gets through.”

She pauses to sweep my mane from one shoulder to the other and starts brushing again. “I don’t expect you to do anything but get through each moment,” she says quietly, “but I do think you’ll be very disappointed if you allow yourself to do lasting damage to your relationship with Twilight simply because she is confused about how to handle all of this.”

She starts rebrushing the sections I messed up by getting mad, applying more of that oil stuff to the brush every few strokes.

“You suck, Marshmallow,” I say after allowing myself another minute to pout. The smile only happens in her eyes and it’s only for a second, but she’s so obviously pleased with herself that I roll my eyes and mutter, “Damn Element of Generosity. You could have let me stay mad for five minutes.”

“What was that, dear?” Her voice is way too sweet, way too innocent. The victorious look in her eyes is masked with perfect innocence too. So, even though I know she heard me, there’s no point in trying to call her out about it.

“Whatever,” I mumble. “I was planning on telling her sorry tomorrow anyway.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” she laughs a little and lightly shoves my shoulder. “In that case, an evening of well-deserved effrontery is perfectly appropriate. That bitch,” she says in the same bright tone.

A bark of laughter bursts suddenly from my chest and makes my ribs ache. “Don’t swear, Marshmallow,” I chuckle, “It doesn’t sound right.”

“Speaking of…” she says in that leading tone of hers.

“Yeah, yeah. Flutters is on the list for tomorrow too.”

“Wonderful.”

“You still suck.”

“Yes, darling, so you’ve said.” She winks at me. “All done.”

“Finally,” I grunt sarcastically. “Took you long enough.”

“Precisely, darling. I took exactly the amount of time to do the thing properly, and I didn’t hear you complaining,” she answers with the perfect blend of sarcasm and uppityness as she turns to leave the bathroom, flicking the light off and leaving me standing in the dark.

I follow her onto the bed and lie down. Time to preen. I wish I could fly home real quick and get my wing-oil, that would help things heal and feel a lot less grimy. Maybe Rare has something in all her little bottles of-

“Yes?” she asks my open-mouthed stare

“Why do you have that?” I point to the little bottle she’s levitating over from the nightstand. I don’t mean to, but I make it sound like she’s got a third eye or something. It just doesn’t make sense for her to have a brand new bottle of expensive wing-oil just lying around.

“The first note I sent to Spike this morning asked him to do a few things for me. Fetching this was on the list. I know he does the shopping for Twilight, so I didn’t think he’d be uncomfortable with it.”

“What else was on the list?” I ask.

“I asked him to bring me some books about the psychology of trauma, especially sexual assault,” she says carefully. There’s the slightest sideways shift in her expression. When her eyes glance back to me, they look like she’s about to say she’s sorry for something.

The words just hang in the air for a while. I really don’t know how I feel about it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she wanted to learn how to take care of me or whatever. That should probably feel reassuring or something. But, something about her asking Spike to get her books seems weird. It just doesn’t seem like Rarity to do something like that.

Maybe it’s a unicorn thing- books and research.

I can’t blame her for wanting to know stuff. The uncomfortable part is finding out about it after the fact. It’s Rarity. So, it really isn’t that weird for her to just do something she thinks is a good idea and pretend to be sorry for not asking about it. This time, I’m not sure she would’ve told me at all if I hadn’t asked her about it, and I don’t really like how unbalanced that suddenly makes me feel.

Plus, I don’t like feeling like she needs a stack of books to figure me out. Why does she suddenly need to study to know how to help me? She's been taking care of me all day and she's been awesome.

“You think I’m a head case?” I ask quietly.

“Not at all,” she answers immediately reaching for my hoof, which I let her take.

“Then why?” I look her in the eyes and the bad feelings start to melt away. Her hooves are twitching like she’s afraid of something. She’s leaning in toward me with an urgency that I wasn’t expecting. All of the stuff I could see earlier when her mask was cracking is just there on her face for me to see now.

“Because I know that you’ve been through something terrible,” she says softly and carefully. Her eyes glance briefly away. Then she takes a deep breath, sets herself with more confidence and meets my gaze again. “You are giving me the opportunity to help, Rainbow, which I am well aware is not a natural or easy task for you. It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly, darling.

“I want to help, but with all my faults and foibles, I fear that I may cause you more damage. You see, one of the problems with being the Element of Generosity is that I can have a tendency to overstep my bounds. I don’t want to do that if it can be helped. I asked for the books because I want to know what is reasonable to expect from you, and I need to know what to expect from myself in terms of assisting and supporting you”

She pauses and chews on her lip for a minute. I start tracing another flight pattern on her cannon while I wait. She never showed this stuff earlier. Even when she seemed exhausted and frustrated, she never seemed worried that she would hurt me. Maybe I just didn’t see it. Maybe she didn’t want me to see it because she didn’t want to freak me out.

The part of my brain that put her up on some hero pedestal is feeling pretty stupid about now. Of course, she’s just been winging it. She hasn’t done this before. If somepony showed up at my doorstep looking the way I do right now, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I probably wouldn’t even try because I’d know I’d mess it up. I’d just send them to Fluttershy’s and then avoid them for a few days before going to make sure they weren’t still mad at me for not knowing what to do.

Rarity just keeps stepping up for me. She just keeps acting like she knows what she’s doing and it keeps working out. Somewhere along the way, she must have just picked up enough know-how to stay calm and fake it this far, but now the mask is off and the walls are down and she’s letting me see that she’s nervous. She’s just a pony. She’s just Rarity and she doesn’t want to screw up and make something bad even worse.

“I also can’t pretend that there wasn’t a self-serving component to it,” she adds with a sigh. “I was in shock this morning. I recognized the symptoms of course. So, I thought I might benefit from the reading as well.”

“That makes sense.” I keep my voice blank and keep tracing.

“But it doesn’t make you feel any better, does it?”

I shrug. “Maybe a little.”

“Dash, will you please look at me?”

I look up from the pattern I’m drawing into her sparkling blue eyes.

“I don’t see any point in trying to lie to you. Nor, do I see any benefit in pretending that it isn’t true. You’ve been through a trauma. The emotional trauma may be far more extensive than the physical. Even you, for all your brutishness, must recognize that.”

I want to say something, but she doesn’t let me. “It isn’t an accusation or a judgment, darling.” She takes my hoof firmly between hers again. Her words start rolling a little faster but with all the same sincerity. “You may be bruised in body, mind, and spirit; but you are not broken, Rainbow. Not to me. I look at you and see a true victim. I see an innocent that was violently and wickedly violated in the most basic of ways.

“More importantly, I still see my dear friend- one of the bravest ponies I know- trying to find her way through the fog of post-trauma symptoms. I see a beautiful warrior of a pony holding herself together as best she can. I see you, Dash, as strong as you have ever been.

"You may be a victim now, but in time you will be a survivor. You will heal. Recovering from wounds is nothing new to you, and you will recover from this. I am certain of it and I want to do everything I can to help you find your way.

“I failed you last night, by not responding to my own instincts. I won’t fail you again, Rainbow Dash.” Her voice wraps around my name and reclaims it. I’ve flinched at it every time somepony said it all day because I kept hearing the way Mac hissed it at me last night. Something about the way Rare said it just took my name and made it awesome again.

I lean over and nuzzle her cheek. “Thank you, Rarity.”

She nuzzles back. “Always, my darling. Always.”

We sit like that for a while. I don’t want to move, but I want to go to sleep. So, I pull back and roll over. The doc said to let Rare unfold my wings for me for the next few days until I can do it without crying.

Her horn lights and I feel the tingle in my feathers. My wings aren’t numb this time though, so I can actually feel a lot more of the swirling vibrations in her magic. I close my eyes and pay attention to the loops and tiny gusts. There's a definite, complicated rhythm and pattern to it. It's kind of like a song playing across my feathers. The magic isn’t exactly like the numbing thing from earlier, but it’s close. It kinda turns all my muscles to jelly so she can move them without tearing anything.

She spends fifteen minutes massaging and working one wing open and takes just as long on the other one. It feels so good. It feels like my body can finally breathe. Plus, that unicorn has one talented mouth. She’s working over some of my worst injuries but never adds to the pain. She pushes hard enough for pressure, but light enough to feel good. I feel her stretch things, softly making them move farther than they want to, but not farther than they can really go.

When she’s got both my wings open and splayed out on her bed. I ask her for a break. Laying like this just feels good. She asks if I need anything, and a snack sounds good. She goes to the kitchen but leaves her magic on me. If I pay attention to my feathers, I can feel her getting farther away then closer again.

She’s carrying a box with a familiar logo. Pinkie must have brought treats at some point. Rare also has one tall glass of water. “Cupcake, donut, or croissant?” she offers.

“Cupcake.”

“The lemon raspberry are my favorite, so I’m assuming these others are for you.” She raises a chocolate cupcake with white frosting topped with a strawberry.

“Oh yeah!” She starts to lower the cupcake, then I think of something. “Hold on!” I close my eyes and pay attention to her magic again. I'm wondering if the patterns are different now that she’s doing something else, but it feels the exact same. “Huh,” I say opening my eyes. “Ok.” Then I open my mouth and she gives me a bite. I see her collect the crumbs falling from my mouth so they don’t make a mess on me or her bed.

“What was that about?” she asks.

I blush. It’s probably a pretty weird thing. “I was seeing if your magic feels different when you're using it for more than one thing. I felt it kind of stretch while you were downstairs, but it’s all the same now.”

“Oh,” she blushes, “I didn’t realize you could sense it like that. You just described the sensation as tingly.”

I take another bite of my cupcake. She’s eating a chocolate croissant. “I can only really feel it with my feathers. I was numb earlier, and then I was wrapped in a towel, so I couldn’t really tell what it felt like.”

“But you can now?”

“Yeah. There are all these little patterns and stuff.” I finish my cupcake. I’m thirsty, but I can’t sit up. Rares sees me eyeballing the glass of water.

“I think you’ll like this,” she says. A bubble of water floats out of the glass and lowers to my face.

“How do I drink it?”

She laughs. “You can either suck on it, or I pour the water in your mouth.”

Trying to suck on a floating ball of water covered in tingly magic is weird, but it works.

“That was kinda cool. Thanks, Rare.”

“Of course.”

“Now, get to work, would ya?” I say with a wink.

She rolls her eyes at me. “I might bite you instead if you can’t find some manners.”

“I’d deserve it. How is that by the way?” I just realized that her mane is covering the spot where I bit her earlier. She tosses it back revealing a gnarly bruise. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Dashie. It doesn’t hurt much anymore." She gets a sip of water then positions herself next to me. "Ready?”

I nod and she gets started. It's so obvious that she's done this before, but she isn't awkward about it like most ponies would be.Most ground ponies think of preening as some huge pegasi turn on, which it can be, but it's also just basic hygiene like brushing teeth. It takes practice to be good at it. Even though most pegasi start trying to preen their own feathers as foals, not everyone learns how to do it right. Trying to teach Twilight how to do it was a huge pain in the flank. It's just not something a book can teach and every time I tried to show her she got all weird about it.

“Rare?” I ask when she’s done with her first pass across my wing.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you know how to preen?”

She laughs a little. “Well, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell, but you aren’t the first pegasus to spend time in my bed, Rainbow.”

“Who?” I ask my question before I can think to filter out the surprise. I’ve literally never seen her date a pegasus before. I thought her and Fluttershy were a thing for like three seconds once, but that’s about it.

“Thunderlane,” she answers like it’s no big deal.

“You’re shitting me!” There’s no way Lane would have kept that a secret, plus Rarity is way too good for him. I mean… he’s Thunderlane!

“I can assure you wholeheartedly that I am not shitting you,” she says, finally looking up from my wing to meet my stare.

It really is weird to hear her swear.

“So, you learned to preen for Thunderlane?” The words feel gross in my mouth. It’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened. Ponyville is a small town. Everypony dates everypony else. It’s just kind of what happens, except Rarity doesn’t really date around Ponyville. At least, not that I’ve noticed.

“In part,” she muses turning back to my wing and tugging a primary into place. “I actually asked Aloe and Lotus for formal lessons after he and I were no longer an item.”

“Why?”

“For Fluttershy,” she says simply. “She was too shy to let them preen her at first, and those delightful creatures of hers do make such a mess of her sometimes, so I offered.”

I try to ignore the weird depressed feeling I’m not supposed to be having. Knowing that she’s preened Flutters or she slept with Thunderlane shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

“I hadn’t preened anypony in years before last night, Dashie,” she says pulling up to look me in the face again. “Thunderlane and I dated very briefly, long before you and I were more than mere acquaintances. Fluttershy has been having her wings preened at the spa since that dreadful modeling incident. She never fully explained the situation to me. I only know that something happened with somepony that made her suddenly feel much more comfortable with Aloe and Lotus.”

I actually know what happened with Shy. She went to some photo shoot, and Photo Finish made her let the make-up ponies mess up her wings for the pictures. They didn’t hurt her, just made her look messy. The second the shoot was done she went to the spa. She told me that at least she knew Aloe and Lotus.

Maybe this is all only weird because I’m making it weird. Maybe it’s just a pegasus thing to want the pony that preens my wings to only preen my wings, and that’s just not a thing I’ve ever had to think about before because I haven’t let many ponies preen my wings for me. I never had a marefriend I thought would do it right, or that I trusted enough to let try. The couple of times Shy has tried she’s been way too afraid of hurting me. So, I’m just nervous or something. And it’s just extra weird because of the timing and the fact that this wouldn’t even be a problem if Rarity hadn’t had to save me from dying last night.

“It’s cool, Rares.” I shrug and try to force the weirdness in my brain to shut down. “I just wondered.” I settle back into the bed and try to relax. I’m not all caught up in shock this time. So, I can really pay attention to what it feels like to have Rarity preen my wings.

It feels awesome! She’s got just the right balance of pressure to get things where they need to be and she obviously knows her way around, even though she says she hasn’t done this in a long time. She hums while she preens. I hum along when she gets to a tune I know.

I could fall asleep. I probably should, but I don’t want to. It’s comforting to feel her body touching me. Part of me wants to vomit, because of the stupid, weird feelings. Plus, I can feel my bruises and tired muscles everywhere. Each sore spot reminds me of what happened to me, and why I'm here, and the fact that I’m not the same Rainbow Dash I was yesterday. That part of me wants to push her away.

She’s this gleaming white unicorn like something out of a story, and I’m a broken piece of trash now. She shouldn’t be touching me, but she looks happy. Humming to herself and stopping to smile at my wing when she gets the feathers just the way she wants them. She mumbles at one that just won’t do what she wants and tells it to behave. Her face is focused, but relaxed. Every time she finishes a row she nuzzles my side a little bit, which tickles but not enough to make me laugh- just enough to make me smile.

It’s really nice to be quiet. I have talked so much today. I realize that there are parts of the story I haven’t even told Rarity and she hasn’t asked. We talked about horns, and wings, and our friends instead. I know we’ll have the full conversation sometime. I want to tell her the whole story, and I don’t. I don’t want her to know how pathetic I really was. I don’t want her to know how easy it was for him. Not that I didn’t fight, because I did, but I could have done more.

I could have used him to kill myself. If she hadn’t shown up, I would have.

Rarity won’t want to know that, but I kind of think she already does. Getting Spike to get those books for her, which are sitting on her nightstand, makes me think that she must already get it. Maybe she doesn’t understand, but she gets it. That speech about me being a victim, for now, wasn’t just words to her. I hate that word- victim- but not the way Rarity said it. She didn’t sound like she pitied me, or thought I was weak. It just sounded like she got it. Like, she gets that everypony goes through their shit. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

Looking at the books makes me feel better about that part of things too. I don’t think she was trying to hide them from me anymore. I think she just had the idea and ran with it. I’m glad she asked Spike and not Twilight to get them for her though.

I’m still bugged about how Twilight didn’t even try to stand up for Rarity at all today, and I’m bugged that Shy didn’t say anything at the hospital about it.

I’m glad AJ showed up. It was easier to see her than I thought it would be. It’s weird, but I want to tell her that I think they are being too hard on Mac. I mean, I think he should have to watch his dick get cut off for what he did to me, plus whatever legal thing is going to happen to him. But… he still needs his family. Apples stick together. It’s what they do. AJ and Granny writing him off just feels like one more bad thing.

Rarity finishes with the last feather and pulls back with a worried look on her face. I look at my wings. They look like shit. They look the sun and the moon better than they did, but they still look like shit. Looking at my wings makes me cry. It doesn’t matter how they look, they’re useless.

I love being a pegasus. Flying is the best feeling in the world. There’s almost never been a problem that flying couldn’t solve, until this. I couldn’t fly right now, even if all my bones weren’t fractured and all my muscles sprained. I’m missing too many feathers. There are a couple places (where his hooves held me down the longest) where there should be layer after layer of perfectly aligned feathers to create the plane that forces the air where I want it to go; instead, there are bald spots. Rares has done an awesome job covering up them up though. I’m sure even most pegasi wouldn’t see them unless they really looked.

My tears change from sad to angry in a second. My coat bristles like I did before.

“Do you feel like yelling?” Rares asks. She’s totally serious.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I snap at her.

“The kind from a pony that, from time to time, must enter her closet, seal it with an impenetrable silencing charm and scream herself hoarse in order to avoid murdering a certain darling sister of mine or destroying days and days worth of work.

“I’m not trying to trivialize anything, Dash. You have every right to be angry, and I’ve seen you bravely swallow that anger many times today. I haven’t read those books Spike brought me yet, but I can’t imagine that perpetually suppressing anger is healthy. So, if you want to yell or scream, then I think you should.”

I did want to scream, but her little speech takes the fire out of me. Instead, I answer quietly, my voice shaking: “I’m so mad he took the sky from me, Rare.”

She starts working my wings back to my sides and just listens to me cry and vent.

“It’s like, I can’t even go home, you know? Not to my house, because my house is big and lonely and it sucks a lot of the time, but home. I can’t go to the one place where I’ve always just belonged; where everything is ok, even when everything is wrong. My wings are useless, Rare. Useless. You just spent an hour on them, and they are still useless. That bastard took my wings from me. I’m a pegasus that can’t fly. What the hell does that make me now? I wish he’d just done the decent thing and killed me instead.”

I didn’t mean to say that last part. I expect her to say something like: ‘Rainbow Dash, that is simply unacceptable. I will not tolerate such self-pitying nonsense;’ but she doesn’t. She looks at my wing with sad, angry tears in her eyes. She finishes folding the wing softly to my side and lightly kisses the feathers. She’s been looking at my wings for more than an hour, but her eyes look like they’re still taking in everything about them.

“I can’t pretend to understand,” she finally says forlornly looking at my face. Then she takes a deep breath and her eyes go hard. Her voice turns and rolls with the same anger I feel when she says, “But I can tell you that I hate him for what he’s done to you. I hate him for taking so much from you. I hate him for hurting you in such a basic, fundamental way that you are experiencing a loss whose depth I can barely comprehend. I hate him for taking so much from you so brutally that death feels like an answer to you. You, who are more alive than nearly anypony I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I hate him and I hate myself for not saving you from him. I am so sorry, Rainbow.”

I roll onto my stomach, sit up, and open my hooves to her. She leans against me and we cry. We cry loud, angry, sobbing tears. I want to tell her not to hate herself, but I know she won’t listen. Not yet. Just like I wouldn’t listen if she told me not to talk about wishing I was dead.

Eventually, the sobs fade and tears stop, but we just keep holding each other until I realize how dark it is outside. “Hey, Marshmallow?”

“Hmmm?”

“Think we should sleep?”

She sighs. “I think we ought to try.”

“K.”

“Get up a moment and let me turn the bed down, please.”

I give her one more squeeze and let go.

“Do you mind taking the side by the window?” she asks. “I’ve taken to sleeping on this side, so I can listen for Sweetie Belle when she’s here.”

“That’s fine. Do you care if we open the window?”

“Not at all, darling.” She’s tossing little pillows from the bed onto the fainting couch in the corner, and opening the window, and pulling down the blankets all at the same time.

“How many things can you do at once?”

She smiles. “I believe my personal best is seven.”

“What were you doing?”

“Gala dresses,” she says with a sigh and a smile as she climbs on the bed. “I was hoof-stitching the bodice on Fluttershy’s, using fabric glue to attach streamers to Pinkie’s, running Twilight’s hideous cape through the embroidery machine to add the retched stars, shaping Applejack’s ridiculous hat, drinking a cup of coffee, and letting Opal out.”

“That’s only six,” I say. We’re on our sides, our heads on pillows, looking at each other.

“Well, I was also finishing a simply atrocious helmet for somepony.”

“That thing was pretty bad,” I laugh. “Why did you let us get away with that shit?”

“Because it was what you wanted,” she says with a shrug like it’s totally obvious. “And because I didn’t know you all well enough yet to boldly tell you that you had no fashion sense whatsoever. I wouldn’t have the same troubles now.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Oh hush!” She shoves me a little. “It isn’t as though you never share your opinions.”

“True.”

Her mane has fallen down her back, so I can see the bruise from my bite again. I lean in and nuzzle the spot. “I’m really sorry about this,” I say and then kiss it quickly.

“It’s really alright, Rainbow. I promise.” She blushes as I pull away. I want to close the gap between us. We’ve been touching all day, but I want different touch now. I don't need her to ground me or anything. I just want the comfort of being held. It’s wrong of me to want it, but I just want to feel safe.

Her hoof strokes my cheek and wipes away a tear I didn’t know I’d cried. “What’s wrong, Rainbow?”

“I want to hold you,” I admit into the pillow. I’m crying even more now because I’m frustrated that my stupid eyeballs aren’t letting me hide the feelings.

“And that’s making you cry?”

She knows about all the broken and fucked up shit. I know she isn't about to tell me no. She just shouldn’t have to deal with anything else. She's letting me sleep in her bed and that should just be enough, but I want more and it's weird and I'm not awesome anymore because of what Mac did to me. It's not like I'm here on equal terms. I'm like a filly that should be brave enough to sleep in their own bed but isn't. He ruined me; ruined my confidence and I want her to hold me together and make it ok. “I feel dirty, Rare.”

Magic wraps around me and slides us together. She moves her hoof from my face, down my back and whispers into my ear. “I wouldn’t care, even if you were, Rainbow.”

I bury my muzzle in her neck and pull her to me so I can put my forelegs around her. I test my wing, it’s still feeling good enough from being preened. I start to stretch it. She lifts the blanket up, so I can move and wrap it around her. Then she sets the blanket back down. I tip my head so our foreheads are pressed together again and feel the exact wave of comfort I wanted. Maybe when I’m not so messed up, things will just go back to normal. For now, she’s giving me an out and I’m taking it because I just want to feel safe and peaceful for a few minutes.

I don’t know how much time passes- I’m not totally asleep when she shifts and kisses my forehead, then starts to close my wing. I groan a little and pout my lip.

“Another time, darling,” she says quietly.

“Ok,” I say holding on to her a little tighter. She tucks the blanket around us and relaxes into her pillow. I fall asleep listening to her hum a lullaby.

Chapter 9: Thursday- Nightmares

My head slams into something solid and huge, like a huge concrete wall. The force keeps moving forward through me and my neck twists to the side, so my spine doesn’t snap like a twig, clearing the way for my chest to crash into the brutally hard thing too. All of the air inside me is forced to leave. It rips its way from my lungs, blasting painfully out through my mouth and nose in one ragged gasp.

There’s a tiny second of relief and freedom where the pressure stops and I’m not crushed against the wall, but it’s followed by a slam of brute force and a burning pain that travels from my tail, up my spine, radiating out to the tips of my wings and back, then up through every tiny corner of my brain.

The only sounds are the crunching of my bones every time I’m slammed; the painful, agonized gasp that escapes everytime the air is forced out of me; the low grunts and ragged breathing of a stallion rutting himself senseless; and the slap of huge powerful hips thrusting into me and ripping me apart again and again and again.

Every instinct screams that I have to fly. I have to break away and get the hell out of here. My wings strain under an impossibly heavy and immovable weight that’s pinning them out flat. No matter how I try to twist and pull them free, they aren’t going anywhere. The bones start to crack and the muscles shred the harder I try.

There’s a low, delighted, unfamiliar laugh. “Ha, I heard you flyin’ ponies’ wings go all crazy when you get it good,” the voice says. The hot breath leaves a disgusting wet feeling on my ear and I try to flick it away. The voice just laughs again. “I told you that you'd like a stallion.”

I try to scream, but my neck is stretched and twisted so far and the seconds I have to try and suck in air are so short that I’m barely able to breathe enough to not pass out. I try to buck him off, but he’s too big. He’s like a house. Even if I could throw him off my back, he’d still have that giant sword of force shoved inside me to the hilt.

“Good girl,” he whispers and nips my neck so hard that I feel blood start to trickle. “You go ahead and buck back. S’more fun that way.”

It’s so tempting to just give up, to just let him finish and leave me alone to die.

“No!” my mind screams at me. Rainbow Dash doesn’t quit! I scramble for anything I can do to make it all stop. My hooves land on something soft. It’s the first thing it’s felt like I can really push off of, so I kick off as hard as I can and scream, “Get off me!”

There’s a shattering crash and I suddenly have enough space to breathe and look around, but I’m tangled in something. I still hear the voice saying, “Shut up and take it like a mare, Rainbow Dash!” as I scramble to free myself and get my bearings.

Why the hell is Rarity here? Why is she on the ground?

I jump and my wings spring out painfully from my sides with an aching series of cracks. I’m literally standing over her and shielding her from view. I don’t know where he went, but I won’t let him do that to Rarity. I won’t. I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.

The raw presence of a stallion is still here. I can hear him breathing. I can almost feel it on my ear again. I know he’s here. I just can’t see him.

I turn in frantic, clumsy circles looking for him. I accidentally step on Rarity a couple of times and hear her squeak in pain. She’ll forgive me though when she understands.

She’s trying to say something, but I can’t understand it. I hear him telling me how good I feel on the inside, and how much I must be enjoying myself because I’m all wet for him, just the way a good mare is supposed to be.

“I’m not a good mare!” I scream into the darkness. “I’m a hoof-riding, gash-licking, filly-fooler! Now get the hell away from us!”

Then I hear Rarity yelling in my memory. “Get the hell off of her!”

The shower. Twilight. Fluttershy. The police station. Pinkie. The hospital. Applejack. A bloody pile of broken feathers. Rarity.

Sweet Celestia!

I look down. Rare is covering her head, crying, and pleading, “Please wake up. Please, Rainbow. Please wake up. It’s over now. You’re safe, just please wake up.”

I move so I’m not standing over her anymore and stare down at her for a second. She keeps cowering like she hasn’t noticed yet that I moved. I lower myself slowly to lay in front of her and whisper, “I’m awake, Rare. Sorry.”

She lowers her hooves and looks at me. “Truly, you’re awake?” her voice quavers and I nod. “May I?” she asks with that look that’s becoming way too familiar. I nod again she quickly wraps her forelegs around me. I’m afraid to hug her back. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.

“Oh darling, I didn’t know how to wake you! You started thrashing and screaming. I tried, but I think perhaps I made it worse. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, Rares,” I whisper into her mane as we both cry. “I’m ok.”

We breathe in unison for a few breaths and she strokes my mane. “Are you alright?” I ask, my voice even more raspy than usual.

“I’ll be fine,” she says with a bright little clip in her voice that I don’t trust one little bit.

“Let me see the damage,” I say, pulling back to look at her. The room is dark. There isn’t enough moonlight to see anything except her outline. We just sit there in the dark. Me staring at her, waiting for her to turn the light on, and her looking off into a corner or something. “Rare?” I demand, “Let me see.”

“It’s nothing, darling.”

“Then turn on the light and let me look.”

“The light is broken,” she says simply and way too innocent.

“I know that wasn’t the only lamp in the room,” I answer looking around. She still doesn’t turn a light on. Her horn doesn’t even light up like she’s going to try.

“Rarity,” I say with a serious edge. It’s the last warning I’m giving her before I get up and destroy shit to try and find the damn light switch. Her horn glows for a second, she winces a little, and the lights come on.

The blood drains from my face and I feel my body go cold. Her face is ok from what I can see, but she has two hoofprints square on her chest from where I pushed her. They’re already starting to bruise.

“Dammit. Rarity, I’m sorry.” I crumble in front of her and let another flood of tears start rolling down my face as I keep muttering my worthless apologies.

She lays her head on my back and instantly starts soothing me. “Shh, Dashie,” she whispers, “It was an accident, darling. I’m alright.”

Through my tears and guilt, instinct takes over and my muzzle reaches for the place I hurt her. My tongue rolls over the spot trying to sooth it. She flinches a little but doesn’t pull away. So, I keep going. Letting my tongue try to heal the hurt places.

Every few seconds I mumble again that I’m sorry. When her chest is soggy with my spit, I move up to the place where I bit her earlier and do the same thing. I’ve never groomed or been groomed like this before. Part of my brain is kinda weirded out by it and even more weirded out that Rarity of all ponies is letting me do it. But, since that first flinch, she hasn’t really reacted at all. She’s just laying with her head on my back letting me do my thing. So, I just focus on the body in front of me: her smell, the smooth feel of her coat against my tongue, the ridges of the bruises I can feel forming. I keep going until some ancient thing in my brain says that I’m done. Then, I nuzzle each bruise as softly as I can and lay my head on her forehooves.

“Sorry, Rares,” I say one more time.

“It’s alright, darling,” she says sweetly. “Thank you for tending to me. That felt lovely.”

“Really?” I can’t stop my eyebrow from quirking up. Luckily, I remembered to use the good eyebrow this time.

“Mmhmm,” she hums.

“Weird.”

“I’m sure there’s some biological reason for it, but I’d rather not bother with it right now,” she says lifting her head to look around. “Shall I clean up this mess, so we can try and go back to sleep?”

“I’ll clean it up, Rare. It’s my fault.”

“Nonsense. It’s nopony’s fault.”

There’s a pause where we both just look around at the shards of glass and other chunks of the broken lamp. “I don’t know if I can sleep,” I admit with my ears folded back. “What if it happens again?

“Then I shall be here.” She nuzzles me. “And we shall get through it. Tomorrow we can send a letter to Princess Luna and ask her to watch your dreams a bit more closely. If you simply can’t sleep tonight, then perhaps you’d like to read. I believe Spike included a Daring Do novel in the pile of books he brought over.”

“Reading sounds good.”

She pulls away and tries to cover up a wince by giving me a convincing little half-smile. “Do you need some ice or something?” I ask.

“No, thank you.” She looks around at the mess again and sighs.

“What?”

“Just bracing myself.”

“For what?”

“Well, with this bump on my head, cleaning up may smart a bit, but I’d rather spend the next half hour in my bed with a book than tidying.”

“I’ll get it,” I say standing. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. I’m wide awake anyway. It’ll give me something to do. Where’s a broom?” I can see in her face that she wants to argue with me, so I glare at her. She glares back for a second, then lets go of a bigger sigh and gives in. If things weren’t so messed up, I’d make some snarky comment about how I’ve never beat her in one of these starting contests before, but even I know that now is a bad time for that sort of thing. I still let myself feel a little flicker of pride though.

“In the pantry,” she says and I walk toward the door. “There’s a switch at the top of the stairs for the lights,” she calls after me.

“Thanks,” I say over my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Getting down the stairs takes forever. My backend is not happy I jumped out of bed. My wings are screaming at me for flaring them open like I did. My hooves ache for Celestia only knows what reason. So, every single step makes me wince and I have to suck in a deep breath before I take another one.

Being in the dark alone in Rarity’s boutique at night is freaky. That uni must have nerves of steel. Not many ponies live in this part of town, so it’s crazy quiet sometimes. But, the Boutique creaks and the windows rattle just a little when the wind blows.

Finding the broom and dustpan is easy, even with one eye almost swollen shut. Normally I’d tuck them under my wings to carry them up the stairs, but that’s not gonna work. So, I slide them onto my back and keep the handles pinched between my shoulder and cheek. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, but it works.

When I get back upstairs, I find Rarity picking up the bigger chunks of broken glass in her teeth and putting them in a garbage can. “I said I’d do it, Rare.”

“And so you shall,” she says absently and picks up another piece for the garbage can. “I was just keeping busy until you got back.”

How does she do that? Sound so innocent when she’s so guilty. It’s not like Fluttershy or even Pinkie. Those two really are innocent all the time. That’s how they are. Rare, on the other hoof, always knows exactly what she’s doing and manages to get away with shit anyway. Somehow, she gets everypony to think she’s some damsel in distress, even when everypony knows that totally isn’t true.

She steps out of the way and starts straightening the bed, while I clean up the mess. After I’ve swept the rest of the shards of glass and broken lamp parts into a pile, I look over and see something I didn’t before. A red trickle running down her neck. There’s blood in her mane. She must have smashed through the lamp with the back of her head and got cut.

“Rare.” I try to keep my voice calm but there’s a definite edge of worry in it that’s totally uncool. “You have blood in your mane.”

“I am aware, darling,” she says perfectly calm and in control. “Thank you for noticing. I plan to wash it out in a moment.”

I stop sweeping my pile into the dustpan in mid-stroke to stare at her. “You feeling ok?” I ask.

She stops what she’s doing to look back at me. “A little headache.” She shrugs. “But nothing to be dramatic about. Why do you ask?”

“Because I just told you that you have sticky, yucky, icky, dried blood in your mane.” I use my best Rarity voice for that part. “And all you said was that you know. You’re not a changeling, are you? Because that’d be some messed up shit that I just can’t handle right now. So, if you are a changeling, you need to up your game buddy.”

We both laugh. I really can’t believe that she isn’t freaking out about having a bleeding head wound or a messy mane right now. I just bucked her out of bed onto her plot and she’s just acting like it’s no big deal. No drama. Just cleaning up the mess.

The little flame of worry and stress that’s been burning in the back of my mind flickers and dies. She isn’t mad at me. She isn’t treating me like I need to go the hospital or stay somewhere else. I’m still safe here. She’s still got me.

“You gonna shower?” I ask when I get back from putting the broom away.

“I was hoping to avoid it,” she sounds so tired. “Do you mind helping me? I think we may be able to rinse out the worst of it and deal with the rest in the morning.”

“I’ll help but you’re really going to have to do a better Marshmallow impression tomorrow. Nopony will believe a Rarity that’s willing to sleep on a dirty mane.”

“Thank you for the tip,” she snarks back on her way to the bathroom.

She grabs the bowl with the spout and sets it in the sink to fill. Then leans her head over the tub. I pour the water over her head and hear her gasp. I can’t see the cut, but the water has more blood than I thought it would. I put the bowl down.

“Let me look at that. I think you might need stitches.” I wish I could use a wingtip for this; it would be a lot softer than my hoof. Rares takes it like a champ though, letting me paw around in her mane until I can really see where the blood is coming from.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong, Rainbow?” Rarity asks calmly.

“You have a chunk of glass sticking out of the back of your head,” I answer and step back. “I’m so sorry, Rares.”

I’m trying to keep it together but I can’t handle this. She’s been awesome. She’s done everything I needed, without me having to ask. She’s the one pony I really feel safe with, and now she has a bleeding head wound because I’m a traumatized pain in the flank that can’t even sleep without causing her problems. And she isn’t even mad at me for it.

“Dash.” Of course, she still sounds perfectly calm and in control. Of course, she does. It’s helpful, but it makes me even more guilty and pissed at myself. “Dash, you have got to calm down,” she says in her serious voice with her head still dipped down into the tub. “I do not want to go back to that wretched hospital tonight. Please, take a breath and listen to me. Has the bleeding stopped?”

I take three big breaths then look back at her head. “Yeah, mostly.”

“Alright, how big is the piece of glass?”

“I don’t know. I can’t really tell. Sorry.”

“It’s alright, darling,” she keeps her voice even. “Is it wider than a needle is long?”

“No. It’s more like the width of a button.”

“What type of button, darling?” she asks like I’m obviously supposed to know how many different kinds of buttons there are.

“I don’t know! A regular sized one. Like the ones on my dress uniform.”

“The gold ones or the blue ones?”

“Blue.”

“Oh, well then, that isn’t so bad. Is there any indication of how deep it is?”

I don’t answer for a few seconds as a horrible thought races through my brain and almost makes me lose my cool again. “Rarity?” I ask carefully.

“Yes, darling.” Same calm voice.

“If it’s deep enough, could it be touching the root thingy that runs from your horn, through your brain, and into your heart?”

“It’s located exactly in line with my spine?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

She sighs. “Well then, yes darling. It’s possible, but not likely. In that location, it would have had to go through my skull and brain to reach the root. I have a headache, but nothing to indicate something that serious. I merely asked to determine if I thought you could pull it out by hoof, or if we ought to try something else.”

Well, the root thing is a relief at least. “No way am I trying to pull that out with my hooves,” I say.

“Honestly, Rainbow, does a little blood bother you?” There’s a hint of teasing, but mostly it sounds like she might be getting irritated. Not that I blame her.

“Stuff it, Marshmallow,” I snap. “My hooves suck for this kind of stuff. I use my wings to do detailed stuff and they’re fucking useless right now.”

“What about your mouth?” she counters more calmly. “There’s a pair of tweezers inside the vanity mirror that should do nicely.”

“I’ll never be able to see it and use the tweezers at the same time. I can try using my mouth though. You’re gonna have to lay down, you’re too tall and it’ll help if you can hold really still.”

We both ease ourselves down onto the bathroom floor. She’s in front of me with her forehead resting on my forehooves, her horn isn’t quite poking me in the chest. I have to move some of her hair again. I should have got some gauze or something to clean her up, because the wound is still oozing, but there’s nothing around.

I have an idea; maybe it should gross me out, but it doesn’t. “You know that licking thing I was doing earlier?” I ask.

“Yes,” she sounds confused.

“Umm, well, I think I’m going to do that again. It’s a mess back here, and I can’t really see anything. Plus, I think it will it come out smoother if there isn’t a bunch of blood and gunk around it.”

“Are you sure you’re alright with that?” She sounds like she might not be totally alright with it. “I’m certain I can find something to clean it out with.”

My first aid training from Wonderbolts camp finally kicks in and I look around again. Like most ponies, Rares keeps a mint plant in her bathroom. It’s a tasty way to deal with morning breath, which I don’t care about right now. Mint disinfects and soothes pain. The best part is that I can reach the plant from my spot on the floor.

“It’s cool, Rares,” I say with more awesomeness than I’ve felt since I woke up, because now I have a plan. “Pony spit is good for helping cuts and stuff heal, plus I know a way to help make sure it doesn’t get infected. So, we good?”

She fidgets for a second, then sighs, and just lays there. I guess that means we’re good.

I’m about to start cleaning her up when the world stops for a second, and I just take in the weirdness. Rares is laying on the bathroom floor bleeding. I’m about lick the back of her head, which is resting in between my forelegs, because my wings are so messed up that I can even try and use them. I have no idea what’s going on her head to make her ok with this, but in my head, there’s just a lot of wanting to take care of her and fix the mess I made.

So, I start on her mane. Blood tastes weird, but not bad. I keep expecting to get grossed out, but I don’t. I’m trying to be soft and careful. I really don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have. This feels kind of like preening, which makes me realize that she has basically done the same thing for me every time she’s preened my wings. I close my eyes and remember the piles of broken, bloody feathers she gently pulled for me and the broken shafts of feathers she licked and soothed until they stopped bleeding. That makes it a little less weird.

I work my way toward the cut, cleaning the blood from her mane and pushing it aside. I never see the actual target, but it’s easy to feel with my lips. I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize that it’s not very deep. Then grunt a little in frustration because the angle is weird.

I try just pulling the glass with my lips, but I can’t get a grip on it. So, I try pressing my mouth around it and kinda sucking to get it to pop out. That works better, but it’s still in there. I feel around my tongue and my lips for another couple seconds. There’s just no way around it; I have to bite her. I do the thing with my lips around it again, and then kinda grind my teeth back and forth to work it out of her. Finally, I feel it pop onto my tongue, along with some more blood.

Quickly, I pull my face away and spit the glass into the sink. Then I bite a few leaves off her mint plant, peppermint. Not my favorite, but not bad, and definitely the best for this. I chew the leaves for a couple seconds, then lean forward and use my tongue to press the cud into cut. She sighs in relief.

“How’s that?” I ask without pulling away.

“It’s simply divine, darling. Very soothing. Thank you.”

I let my lips brush the spot lightly one more time before I pull away. “I’m glad it worked.”

We both stand up, and I finally get a good look at the piece of glass. It isn’t as big as it felt in my mouth. Rares kinda sways when she sees it.

“You ok?” I ask and move next to her so she can lean on me. She looks terrible. She’s looked pretty rough off an on through all of this, at least compared to how she usually looks. Right now, I think she looks even worse than I do. “Did you sleep at all before I bucked you out of bed?”

She tosses her head a little to bring herself out of the funk, then stands a little straighter and walks away. “I’m fine,” she answers totally dodging my question. “Thank you for asking. Now, let’s get some rest.”

I don’t say anything, but I grit my teeth and follow her. She hasn’t slept in… a long damn time, and I know it. But, I know that tone. There’s no point in calling her out about it. The only answer is to wait for a chance to do something.

I follow her into the bedroom. She’s pulling the Daring Dobook out from the middle of the pile of psychology books or whatever Spike brought. I’m not even sure I want to read it anymore. I don’t want to risk falling asleep and beating her up on accident.

She opens the drawer on the nightstand and pulls out the sketchbook from earlier and a pencil.

“You have got to be shitting me,” I huff and glare at her. “You aren’t even going to try to sleep?”

“There’s no point in staring at me like that,” she answers without looking at me. I walk over and climb up on the bed. I plop down into my spot with a “Hmph” that turns into a whimper and a little groan. I really need to remember that I’m in no condition to plop down on anything.

She has the sketchbook open to a blank page in front of her. She hasn’t started drawing yet though. She’s just staring at it with that heavy look in her eyes. Whatever she’s seeing in her brain isn’t something she wants to draw right now.

“You need to sleep, Rares,” I say before I pull the DD book over to me.

“I’m sure I will, darling. Not to worry. A lady does need her beauty sleep.” There’s a layer of sarcasm coating the last part.

“Don’t bullshit me, Rarity. I’m just going to be sitting here reading. I promise it’s ok to sleep.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

She just stares at the blank page in front of her again. I don’t know what to do. Is that what I look like when I drift off and feel it all happening all over again. Is that what’s happening for her? She looks like she’s seeing something that isn’t even there.

I reach over and touch her cheek, which startles her.

“Please, Dashie,” she says with a tired, pleading in her voice. “I don’t want to talk about it. We’ve both been through enough for now.”

“Later?” I ask quietly.

“Later.” she nods.

“Promise?”

She doesn’t say the words, but I know a Pinkie Promise when I see one and that’s good enough for me. I pull my hoof back and scoot close enough that our sides are touching. Then I start reading. I’ve read this one before but that’s ok.

“Rainbow Dash?”

“Princess Luna?” I look around the dark expanse of stars where I’m floating with my perfectly healthy wings beating at my sides. I fold them in and land with a soft thud on the non-existent ground. “Shit. I fell asleep again, didn’t I?”

“Yes, Rainbow Dash. Was that not your intention?” Luna says a little confused. “You will not be forced to face the same dream as before, I assure you. I have been awaiting for your return that I might apologize for my negligence. I had been on watch for you to enter the dreamscape, but each time you approached your mind protected itself, and I was not needed. I became distracted by the dreams of another and did not observe your fall into the malicious nightmare until it was too late. My deepest and most sincere apologies, brave Rainbow Dash.”

“It’s cool, Princess. I’m not the only pony in Equestria having bad dreams.”

“Tis true. However, yours is a trauma that very much warrants additional protection. T’was an inexcusable failing,” she mutters the last bit at the not-ground with her ears folded flat against her head.

“Seriously, Princess. It’s ok. I mean, Rarity has a big gash on her head now, but I think she’s gonna be ok.”

Luna looks confused again.

“I kinda shoved Rares out of bed because of the dream. Her head crashed through a lamp.”

“You’re sharing a bed with Lady Rarity?” She looks blankly around at the space in front of her like it’s going to show her something. “I was not aware of your relationship.”

“She’s just helping me out. We aren’t together like that.” I meant to make it sound like no big deal, but it didn’t work. Maybe it’s impossible to try and cover up stuff like that here.

“Tis a confusing time, Rainbow Dash,” she says with a shake of her mane and a reassuring smile. Then she refocuses her eyes on me. “Does her presence soothe you?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “I don’t know why, but it’s the only thing that does.”

“Then it seems appropriate to allow yourself the indulgence for the time being. I can stop the dreams from plaguing you in sleep, but the underlying memories may find their way into your waking hours. Feelings and memories cannot be held at bay indefinitely without consequence. Having an anchor to peace and healing in the waking world may prove essential to your recovery, Rainbow Dash. Assuming Rarity is willing.”

“She’s in.”

Luna nods.

“Hey, Princess, can you tell if she’s asleep right now?”

Luna closes her eyes for a few minutes. Then shakes her head. “She’s not to be found in the dreamscape. She seems to be very much awake, watching over you.”

I sigh.

“This displeases you?”

“She hasn’t slept. If she doesn’t sleep tonight that will be two nights in a row. She found me, Luna. As it was happening. She saved me. The stupid guards put her through hell today, then at the hospital she… stayed with me.”

“You fear that when she sleeps she may also find herself lost in terrible memories?”

“Yeah. Do you mind keeping an eye open for her? Helping her too?”

“Of course, Rainbow Dash.”

“Thanks, Princess.”

“Would you like to wake now and check on her?”

“Yeah, if that’s a thing you can do.”

She smiles like I would smile if someone asked me if I could fly. She might as well say “Duh!”

“I shan’t fail you again, Rainbow Dash,” she assures me again. “You need not fear to sleep for your dreams.”

“Thanks, Princess.”

“I believe my sister shall be visiting you during the coming day or the day following. Perhaps I shall accompany her, that we may continue our conversation.”

“Sure, that’d be cool.”

She nods again. “Farewell, Rainbow Dash.”

I don’t really wake up all the way. Just enough to feel Rarity’s warmth next to next to me. She’s so soft. It’s tempting to just let myself go back to sleep. She must have put a blanket on me at some point because I’m warm and cozy. A fading part of my brain makes a note to be mad at her when I wake up for using her magic when she has a headache.

I can hear her pencil scratching. I wonder how long I’ve been asleep. It’s really hard to stay awake. I try to open my eyes, but it doesn’t work.

She nuzzles my neck. “Sleep, Dashie. It’s alright.”

“Hypocrite,” I try to say but it’s just a grumpy mumble. I roll onto my side and pull her to me. She giggles and nuzzles me gently. Maybe I can snuggle her to sleep.

Chapter 10: Friday- Crusaders

“Rarity! Are you home?”

Where the hell did all those hooves come? And who the fuck is yelling?

“RARITY!”

BAM!!!

The bedroom door crashes open. I open my eyes and see three sets of eyes staring back at me. I’m still holding onto Rarity. We’re snuggled with my back to her chest. I must’ve rolled over to face the door at some point, but I didn’t let go of her foreleg, which basically turned her into the big spoon. Luckily, the blanket’s pulled up high around my neck, so the only injury of mine the Crusaders can really see is the gash above my eyebrow. I don’t think they even notice though. They’re way too freaked out about seeing me and Rares in bed together.

“Oh… Umm… Sorry!” The door slams shut again in a little burst of green light.

I hear Scoots from the other side, “What were they doing?”

“What did it look like, genius?” Sweetie snaps back.

“Sweetie Belle,” Rarity’s voice is clear and light even in the morning, but she isn’t exactly able to hide that she’s a little irritated. “Please take your friends downstairs. I shall be down in a moment to explain. Better yet, take some bits out of the treat fund and go pick us all up something from Sugarcube Corner, won’t you? Pinkie knows what everypony likes.”

“Pinkie isn’t there,” Sweetie calls back. “That’s why we came here.”

Blue magic opens the door smoothly this time. “Explain, please,” Rare says in her forced calm voice.

“Well,” Sweetie steps awkwardly from the hallway into Rarity’s room with the other two a couple of steps behind her. Her green eyes keep shifting from me to Rarity then sweeping around the room as if we’re going to be positioned differently the next time she looks at us. Rare doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to move though. She just waits patiently for Sweetie to explain like she was asked.

Finally, Sweetie squeaks out all in one breath, “We were sleeping over at Sweet Apple Acres, but then we heard something. It was guards. They came and got Applejack the second the sun came up. We followed them to the guard station, but they wouldn’t tell us anything. Other guards had all your other friends, so we decided to come here and see if they already got you, or if you know what’s going on.”

“Shit,” I say under my breath.

“Alright, darling,” Rary says slowly and calmly, totally ignoring me. “That is distressing, and I’ll forgive you for throwing open my door without knocking at this ungodly hour. First, let me assure the three of you that Applejack and the others are not in any sort of trouble. They are assisting the guardsponies with an important matter.”

“What about Mac?” Apple Bloom steps forward with so much panic and confusion in her eyes that she’s got tears welling up at the corners. I have to look away, because I can’t handle seeing AB like that. Especially when I know that anything I say is just going to make it worse. “They took Mac away yesterday. Is he helpin’ too?”

Thank Celestia, Rare is here to answer that question. She keeps her voice even and soothing. “Mac is involved in the matter as well Apple Bloom, although in a different capacity. He will be in Canterlot for the foreseeable future, darling.”

“Is he in trouble?” Bloom asks.

“Yes, darling,” Rare answers after the tiniest hesitation. “He is. I’m afraid, Mac made a terrible decision and he is in quite a lot trouble for it.”

“What did he do?” Scoots asks like there's no way Mac could’ve done anything too bad. I try to hide my wince at her instant defense of the pony that ripped me apart, then slide under the blanket just a little more to make sure they can’t see any of the bruising on my neck. I’m so not ready to have that conversation yet.

Rare gives me a little squeeze with the foreleg I’m holding onto and tells Scoot, “I've said all that I feel is appropriate for you to know at this point. I know you must have many questions. I assure you, you will get answers in time.

“I am sincerely asking the three of you to trust me on this and believe me when I say that trying to force answers out of anypony will cause more hurt than satisfying your curiosity is worth. Can I trust the three of you to be patient and not allow your insatiable curiosity to rule you for the time being?”

Rarity doesn't sound like she's talking to kids, which is good because they really aren’t kids anymore. They just always seem that way to me. They’ve had their cutie marks for years now. They’re just about to graduate and they’ve been running their business helping ponies with cutie mark problems for a while. Still, I’m impressed that Rarity isn't being dramatic or condescending. She could be talking to our group of friends, and the Crusaders all puff up with pride and being spoken to like grown-ups.

“You can trust us, Rarity,” Scoots says with all the awesomeness she’s been building up over the years. It makes me smile and tear up a bit. Telling her about all of this is going to suck. She’s practically a mare, but she’s still just my little buddy and I wish I could protect her from this.

“Yeah, Sis. We don't want to hurt anypony,” Sweetie chimes in.

Bloom hesitates though. The Crusaders do a lot of dumb stuff, but none of them are stupid. They know whatever is going on is a big deal, and Bloom’s family is smack in the middle of it.

“Hey, AB,” I take a deep breath and meet her orange eyes. She isn’t even trying to fight back the tears anymore. “I know it sucks, but Rare’s right. You know enough for now. You know AJ can keep a secret about as far as she can throw a barn. She'll tell you when she's ready, k?”

She takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh. “Alright, I guess.” She shrugs.

“Thank you for your patience, Apple Bloom. I know what we are asking of you is no small thing. I thank you for your trust,” Rare says. “Now, do the three of you mind going to pick up some breakfast?” The Crusaders perk up again. Having something to do always helps them. “Get two dozen of something. That should take care of all of us. Sweetie, you know where to find the bits?”

Sweetie nods and the Crusaders leave. It's weird to see how similar Sweetie and Rarity are especially now that Sweetie’s figured out how to do her hair better. They move the same. They have the same jaunty step. They have the same white coat. They even have that same mischievous thing around the eyes that Rarity tries to act like she doesn’t really have.

Rarity tries to pull away but I don't let her. “I need to shower before they get back,” she says, but she snuggles in a little closer instead of making me let her go.

“I know. I just wanted to ask you if you slept at all.” She gets all tense but doesn’t offer up her excuse quick enough. “That's what I thought,” I sigh. “You gotta sleep sometime today, Rares. Ok?”

“If an opportunity presents itself, then I shall try. That's the best I can do right now, Rainbow.”

“K.” I stop holding her foreleg and start tracing flight patterns on it instead. I stare in the general direction of the door. My eyes glaze over so the whole room is just a blur of color. “What are we going to tell them?”

“I don't know, darling,” she sighs quietly in my ear. “We must tell them something, I suppose. However, I’m not particularly inclined to burden them with unnecessary truths.”

“Can we just tell them some drunk pony beat me up or something?”

“Hmmm,” she muses, “something along those lines seems appropriate. They already know Macintosh is involved. I fear we may not be able to keep the full details from them for long, but it’s certainly worth trying.”

“Yeah...” I know she needs to get in the shower. I should let her get up, but it feels like this is going to be our only quiet time for a while and I don't want it to end. I’m not ready to face this day yet.

“Do you want to come with me?” she offers.

I do, but the Crusaders are going to come back and I probably need to stretch before they do. “I'll sit this one out,” I sigh. “Getting up might take a while.” I give her foreleg one more squeeze and let her go. She squeezes me back for an extra second then rolls out of bed.

She's got bed head. I've never seen Rarity with bed head, and we've had how many overnight train trips together? I’ve also never seen her look this tired. There are dark circles around her eyes that I’m sure she’s had before, because of all the times she’s worked through the night to get an order done or whatever, but I’ve never seen them. In my mind, it’s just always been impossible for Rarity to look rough like this. She looks like her head is too heavy for her neck to hold up, so it hangs as she rolls out her neck and shoulders. Her back is always perfectly supported when she moves, but now she's hunched.

It's weird to see her like this, tired and not bothering to hide it. I'm pretty sure that she'll be back on point when she's done with her shower, but for just a second I feel like I get to see through all the layers and just see her as a pony and not some fashionista, or Element of Harmony, or anything else- just a pony that doesn’t want to be up this early.

She leaves the bathroom door open while she showers. After a few minutes, she starts singing. I recognize the song, but I haven’t heard it in a long time. The part about me stands out this time though:

Something brash, perhaps quite fetching.
Hook and eye, couldn't you just simply die!
Making sure it fits forelock and crest,
Don't forget some magic in the dress.
Even though it rides high on the flank,
Rainbow won't look like a tank.
I'm stitching Rainbow’s dress!

That song has some serious Dash-love in it. I never noticed that before.

Rare finishes her song and turns off the shower. “Rainbow, darling, are you up? Do you mind coming to examine my wound?”

It’s a good thing she’s in the other room and can’t see my guilty face. I haven't even started getting up. I was busy listening to her sing. Plus, that was like a three-second shower.

“Bad move, changeling,” I call out as I start making myself get up. “Rares would never dump a bucket of water on her head and call it a shower.” I have to grit my teeth to keep from letting out more than a little groan as I roll off the bed onto my hooves. I am even more sore than I was yesterday. There are aches that run bone-deep through my ribs, my hips, my wings, and each of my legs. My muscles are yelling at me to get my flank back in bed and wait for a few days before I ask them to do anything. “I'll be there in just a sec.”

“Take your time,” she calls back. “I'm taking a moment to sort out what products your obviously fabulous friend uses to maintain this impossible coat she's been cursed with.”

The walk to the bathroom is slow. I try to fluff my feathers a little on the way and nearly bite a hole through my lip to keep from screaming because it hurts so bad. Rares is using her magic to brush her coat when I get to the door.

“How the hell did you do that?” I almost choke on my surprise. She should have two hoofprints, clear as can be, on her chest and a long bruise on her back from hitting the nightstand. And, maybe a couple other bruises from where I stepped on her. But, there's nothing. She's perfect. Her coat is fucking glowing.

“Wait a damn second,” I mumble and walk right in front of her.

“Pardon me, darling, but I was trying to use that mirror if you don’t mind,” she says in that prissy indignance that I learned to ignore the first day we went chasing Nightmare Moon through the Everfree Forest. I have to get my feathers close enough to the spot to test my theory.

Sure enough, I can feel the patterns swirling across her chest.

“Just a little magical cover-up,” she explains. “Too good?”

“No,” I answer and step back out of her way. “You look great. I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't already know. Ready for me to look at that?” I nod toward the towel wrapped around her head.

A little burst of her magic wraps around the towel and puts it precisely in the hamper. She leans forward, and the same blue aura pulls her mane apart around the cut, making it much easier to see than it was last night. “You got all the mint off,” I tell her. “It looks pretty good considering. You'll probably have a scar though.”

“Did I get all the blood out of my mane?” she asks. Having clean hair is obviously more important than whether or not her head wound is infected.

There really wasn't much blood left when I was done last night, but I roll my eyes and check anyway. “Yeah, you got it.”

She stands up straight and flips her mane back over her shoulders. Then her hair all turns blue, there's a pop, and it's done. It looks just like it always does.

“Well, shit,” I say. “Why does it always take you so long to get ready, when you can just do that?”

“I enjoy the ritual,” she says with a shrug. She makes it sound so simple. “I find it soothing and it gives me time to think. Not to mention that this instant version lacks much of the attention to detail I prefer. This won’t stand up to any of Discord’s usual ruckus, for example, but it’s a wonderful option to have in a pinch.”

That kinda makes sense, I guess.

I was right earlier. There's no way to tell how tired Rare is now. She looks like Rarity, she sounds like Rarity (well the Rarity I'm getting used to- the chill, in control, totally gonna take care of me, because my life is a giant mess Rarity), she smells like Rarity. She's good to go.

She's totally not sleeping today unless I make her.

“Would you like to shower or take a bath, Rainbow?”

“A bath sounds nice, but what about the-”

“The girls will be busy eating for the next little while. You have some time,” she says starting the bath and dumping in a bunch of stuff.

“They're going to ask about us,” I say because it's true.

“And I shall explain as best I can. The situation is a bit odd, and what they saw this morning may seem rather compromising. There’s a reasonable chance that they will carry their misinterpretation regardless of what either of us tells them.”

“True,” I answer absently. She’s right and my brain has moved on to worrying about other things. My tail tries to flick and betray the little uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I stop it because it’s totally not worth having pain shoot all the way up my spine. “I think I should talk to Scoots on my own. Seeing me like this is going to suck for her.”

Rares dumps something else in the tub and suddenly there are bubbles. “Perhaps I shall have her bring your breakfast up? That should give you a chance to prepare her.”

“That’ll work. Thanks”

“It’s no trouble at all, darling.”

The door downstairs opens and the Crusaders crash their way into the kitchen. They sound ok. Not exactly their normal bantering selves, but not overly worried or anything.

Rare turns off the water and nuzzles me. “Enjoy your bath. Let me know if you need anything at all.”

“K.”

The bath feels awesome. All the junk Rares put in it feels like it’s working. All of my muscles are relaxing. It actually hurts a little bit when some of the knots in my back finally release and relax. I focus on letting my wings float at my sides and stretch just a little.

The bubbles were a really good idea. This way, I can try to tell Scoots what’s up before she actually has to see it.

I love that little squirt. She can be a total pain in the flank, but being a big sister type is pretty awesome. And the older she gets the more awesome she is. The things she can do on that scooter are crazy.

She still can’t fly though, and that sucks. For the longest time, I kept hoping that her wings would grow, even a little, and I’d be able to start working with her on takeoffs and stuff. But, they never really did.

I used to take her up as often as I could and let her ride on my back. Or we’d just go up and hang out on the clouds for a few hours. She loved it. She’s a pegasus and the sky has always felt like home for her. She isn’t like Fluttershy, who would rather just stay on the ground most the time. Scoots would give me a run for my money at a Wonderbolts spot if she could.

Now she’s too big for me to take up like that very often, and she’s too grown up to let me do it anymore anyway. So, I haven’t even offered in a long time. I wish I knew how to help her be ok living on the ground, but it really isn’t something I understand.

I caught her crying behind a bush one day and brought her up to Chateau Dash for a juice box. She talked about the sky, and clouds, and how she wanted to run away sometimes; but she couldn’t get to the one place she really wanted to go. That all makes a lot more sense to me now.

“Dash?” Scootaloo calls from the hallway.

“I’m in here, squirt!” I still don’t know what I’m going to say to her. I sink a little lower under the bubbles as she walks in with a tray on her back and a proud little smile on her face. I like that she still acts like bringing me breakfast is something awesome.

“Thanks,” I say as she sets the tray down on the floor. There’s a mug of coffee, a couple donuts, and some strawberries.

“Sure thing.” She sits down next to the tub, then looks back and forth from me to the food. “Want me to pick something up for you?” She sounds just like she always has, like doing stuff for me or with me is just the most awesome thing ever, like me lounging around in the tub is just the kind of thing I should be doing and it isn’t weird at all.

“Yeah, I’ll have a donut. Thanks”

She gets one in her teeth puts it on the edge of the tub for me. “Is it about you and Rarity?” Her purple eyes glance awkwardly back toward the bedroom before looking back at me. “Because I think I already figured out what’s going on there.” She sounds hopeful, like maybe all the tension and stuff is just about me admitting that I’m sleeping with Rarity, but she knows better. I wouldn’t make this a big of a deal out of something like that, at least I wouldn’t have before.

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not about that. Well... it kind of is...”

The little smile is gone. She has that worried look on her face. The one everypony gets when they know they are about to hear bad news. It’s different than I’m used to from her though. It makes her look older. It almost makes her look like she can just handle what I’m about to tell her… almost.

I take a bite of my donut. It’s freaking delicious. I finish it in two bites. I should probably use the chewing time to think about what I’m going to say, but I don’t. I can’t, because the donut was just too damn good. The problem is now the tension is even worse, because Scoot’s just been staring at me for a whole minute waiting for some big explanation about why I’m being all weird and totally not cool.

“Why don’t you eat the other one?” I offer. “Since you’re missing out on whatever else is downstairs.”

“You sure?”

“Just don’t touch the strawberries.”

“Thanks, Rainbow Dash!”

She takes a giant bite out of the donut, making the same little happy noises I just did. Then we split the strawberries. Then she lifts up my coffee, which is made just the way I like it, of course.

When the food is all gone, the silence is getting weird and heavy way too fast. She’s being cool about it, but she knows something’s up and there’s nothing left to distract us now.

How the hay am I supposed to tell her this? That look on her face is wrong, she isn’t old enough to handle this. I’m not old enough to handle this. My job is to keep her safe and teach her how to be awesome, not to be an example of the absolute worst things that can happen in life. There’s no way to tell her what happened without upsetting her, but there has to be a way to tell her that doesn’t make everything even worse.

“What’s going on, Dash?” Her voice startles me and sounds way more grown up than I’m ready for. I should’ve known to count on a Crusader’s curiosity to get the best of her. The time for avoiding and acting like everything is normal is over and she knows it. “What did Mac do? Why are the guards talking to everypony? They even hauled in Twilight, and she’s a princess. Why aren’t you and Rarity at the guard station with everypony else?”

“Woah.” I raise my hooves out of the water for a second then quickly plunge them back down under the bubbles. Then I sigh and try to sit up a little bit so I can look her right in the eye. “I need to tell you something about me. We can talk about the other stuff in a bit when we go downstairs, k?”

“Ok.” She sounds nervous and confused but ok. Like if we’re talking about me, then whatever it is must be awesome, because all things Rainbow Dash are awesome.

I hate that I’m about to ruin some of that for her. I hate that I let this happen. I hate that I’m not the Rainbow Dash she thinks I am anymore and that I’ll never be that Rainbow Dash again. I also hate the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s absolutely convinced I’m going to screw this up and make things even worse than they need to be, but it’s too late to turn back now.

I suck in one more deep breath and force myself not to whine when my ribs remind me that they can’t expand as far as I want them to right now. Then I let the breath out slowly and say, “I got hurt, Scoots.”

Her eyes narrow and suddenly she looks at the bubbles I’m hiding under a lot more skeptical than before.

“I got beat up.”

“What? Seriously?” she sounds all excited. “Was it like a bar fight or something? Did you totally kick somepony’s tail into next week? How many ponies did it take to get you down? I bet you were like-”

“It’s not like that.” I cut her off before she gets any farther down that road. “I went out with some friends a couple nights ago, and well… things happened, and I got the crap kicked out of me.”

What I’m saying and how I’m saying it is starting to sink in, and now she’s looking at the bubbles like I’ve got a dragon stashed underneath them.

“I’m a racer, not a fighter, squirt.” It’s all I can think to say, but it doesn't help calm her down. She looks like she’s about to launch into another list of questions I won’t be able to answer. I wish Rarity was here. She’d know what to say, but I suck at talking.

I think about just rolling onto my hooves and standing up, but I realize that I’m probably going to need help. Slouching down in the tub was good for hiding the fact that I’m beat to hell, but my muscles are tired from the awkward angle. I’m not even sure I can roll myself over. Plus, just showing her how bad things are is probably a really bad idea.

“Actually, Scoots.” I let go of a huge sigh of defeat. “Do you mind going to get Rarity for me? I need her help.”

“Is that why you were here?” she asks. “Because you need help?”

“Yeah, Rares found me after it happened and… yeah.”

There’s a long pause. She’s still staring at the bubbles like she’s trying to figure out exactly how bad I’ve got to be hurt that I need Rarity’s help just to get out of a bath.

“Dash?” Scootaloo’s voice is almost a whisper now.

“Yeah, squirt.”

“Can you fly?”

The fate of the world hinges on this question, at least she makes it sound like it does. What is a Rainbow Dash that can’t fly? How can anything be right in the world if Rainbow Dash can’t fly?

“Not right now.” I shake my head and look down toward my wings. My eyes are burning with the tears I refuse to cry in front of her. “My wings got pretty messed up. I’m grounded for a few weeks.” Then I look back up at her with my Wonderbolts smile plastered on my face. “But it’s no big deal. I’ll be back in the sky before you know it!”

She stands up and flings her forehooves around my neck. She’s almost as tall as I am- otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to reach this far into the tub. She’s crying. Sobbing. The flying thing was the part that made it all real for her. She can’t know how bad it really is, but she knows enough to feel bad for me and it sucks.

“Hey,” I say using my best ‘everything is awesome’ voice. “It’s cool. You’ll just have to teach me how to be a super awesome ground pegasus. Maybe I can get my own scooter?”

“Really?” she asks. It’s easy to tell that the idea of scootering around together makes her happy, but she doesn’t really want to show how much.

“Definitely,” I say quietly and lift a hoof out of the water to run through her mane.

“Cool!” She squeezes me extra tight for just a second then lets go. “I’ll go get Rarity now.” Then she’s gone. It feels like that went better than I expected, but I really have no idea.

Rarity comes in a minute later. It’s a moment where if she was really the drama queen I always thought she was, then she’d be swooning about how I’m a poor, helpless, little thing. Instead, her horn lights and the tingly blue gently levitates me out of the tub and onto my hooves. Then she grabs a towel in her magic and starts drying me off.

“How did it go?” she asks and it sounds like she really doesn’t know. So, either Scoot kept up a good poker face downstairs or she’s really handling everything way better than I thought she would.

“Fine, I guess.” I shrug. “I told her I’d get a scooter and we could hang out until I can fly again.” Rares gives me a questioning look. “I honestly think it will be fun once I’m up for it.”

“What did you tell her about all of this?” She waves a hoof around at me.

“Just that somepony beat me up, and that you’re helping me out. I’m not sure she believed that part though.”

“They did see us in what appeared to be a rather compromising situation.” She winks at me.

“Yeah, I guess,” I answer with a little smirk. Then she starts brushing my mane. “How did things go downstairs?”

“As well as could be expected,” she says with a little shrug. “I told Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle essentially the same version of events you told Scootaloo. So, we won’t need to have that conversation again.

“They still have a lot of questions about what’s going on with the others, of course.

“Apple Bloom also mentioned that there’s quite a lot of work that might not get done at the farm today with Big Macintosh gone and Applejack being interrogated for Celestia knows how long. Sweetie offered to help. I’m sure Scootaloo will as well.

“I’m considering stopping by a few friends’ to see if they are available to assist as well. It is planting season after all. I’m sure the Apples can’t afford to not have any work done today.”

“That’s a really good idea, Rares.” I don’t mean to sound surprised, but I can’t help myself. “I didn’t even think of that. But, without AJ or Mac who will-”

Rarity giggles at me a little. “Granny Smith knows everything about running that farm, Dash. Truthfully, I’ve always been rather impressed with her tenacity and aplomb when various situations have required her to take the helm.

“There are a few stallions I grew up with that have assisted with planting many times over the years. I’m sure they can’t do everything just how Applejack would want, but they can cover the basics at the very least.”

I always forget that Rarity grew up in Ponyville. She doesn’t act or sound like a Ponyville pony, except that she totally does. She’s all about the town events. She never misses a town musical number. She could be living in Canterlot or Manehatten right now, but she’s always said that Ponyville is where she feels peaceful. It’s where she feels at home.

It’s cool to hear her talk about Granny Smith like that, all respectful and stuff. I’m really glad that stuff with Mac isn’t messing her up about helping AJ. I didn’t think it would but it could have, and I’m glad it isn’t.

She steps back for a second to make sure that my mane and tail look awesome before she starts brushing my coat.

“What about our friends?” I ask.

“I think you could go wait for them at the station if you felt so inclined,” she answers distractedly. There’s a ruff on my chest that isn’t doing what she wants it to. “Contra told me they were likely to be called in for questioning. She felt it was best that I stay away from the guards unless specifically summoned. It’s rather important that I don’t appear to be attempting to influence anypony’s statement in some way or another.”

She’s doing her best to covering it with that practical tone of hers, but she’s bummed. Rares would totally go and sit there all day and all night if she could. Then, she’d take everypony out for something awesome to eat when it was all over. It sucks that she doesn’t get to do that. It sucks that our friends don’t get to have her do that. We’re all kind of used to Rarity pampering us after something rough happens. AJ and I would never admit that we like it, but we totally do.

“I don’t really feel like sitting there by myself all day,” I admit. I feel bad about it though. I just think I might punch somepony in the face if I find out that they did anything to help get Rarity in trouble.

“It’s probably best that you don’t. You need to rest, darling,” she says as she puts the brush away.

“Hypocrite,” I say expecting some retort back, but it’s Rares. She just answers smooth as silk.

“Yes, well. That’s an issue to be dealt with later regardless. For now, there are three young ladies waiting to talk to us, your wings need to be preened again, there are some letters to be sent, I have some work I simply must get done, and Contra may be stopping by. I’m also hoping our friends will come by when they can.”

“Yeah, plus Celestia and Luna might drop by.” Rares gives me the questioning eyebrow. “Oh! I forgot I didn’t tell you- when I fell asleep again last night, Luna and I talked for a bit. She said sorry for the dream. I guess she’d been watching me, but every time I fell asleep nothing happened. So, she was helping other ponies. She felt really bad. She said Celestia was probably going to stop by today or tomorrow, and that she might come with her.”

“Well, that’s one less letter to send, I suppose,” Rare says with a serious look on her face. Then she shakes it off and gives me a little smile. “Are you ready to go down?”

“Yeah.” I look myself over real quick. I look like crap, but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Let’s do it.”

Rarity says that she wants to walk down the stairs in front of me so she isn’t tempted to huff impatiently at me for taking my time, but it’s really so she can prep the other two Crusaders for what they’re going to see when I walk in the room. We’re at the top of the stairs when we hear the yelling.

“You’re wrong!” Apple Bloom screams, “My brother never hurt another pony in his life! Take it back right now!”

“It’s one hell of a coincidence then!” Scootaloo yells back.

Rarity takes off down the stairs. So, do I. It hurts, but I deserve to have every muscle in my body screaming at me for being such a fucking idiot.

“Tell her, Rarity!” Apple Bloom says when I’m on the last stair. “Tell her that Mac didn’t do a damn thing to Rainbow Dash. Tell her that they’re friends.”

“We are friends,” I say firmly, even though I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth as I stumble into the kitchen. There’s a collective gasp when they see me. Scoot looks like she might actually pass out. Either that, or like her eyes are literally going to pop out of their sockets. “Now sit down and shut up, so I can tell you what’s going on.”

Sweetie is already sitting at the table, she’s been crying. Her green eyes are red and getting bigger and bigger as she tries to take in every bruise on my body. Apple Bloom is by the back door like she was about to storm out when I showed up. She looks like she’s going to throw up. She’s staring at my flank, right at one of the bruises I should have known would tell all the truths I thought I could protect them from. Scoots is looking at AB like she wants to buck her into next week.

“See?” Scoots says waving a forehoof at me. “I don’t know many stallions with hooves big enough to leave bruises that cover a mare’s entire flank!”

“I said, shut up, squirt,” I snap at her. “Seriously, sit down.” Then I turn to Apple Bloom and say in a softer tone. “You too, kid. Please.”

Scoots takes a seat, but Apple Bloom doesn’t move. She’s still staring at my flank. The game is up, she knows. I look at Rarity, begging for help.

“Apple Bloom,” Rares says quietly, walking over to Bloom and putting a hoof on her shoulder. She’s using the same voice she uses when she’s trying to talk Fluttershy down from a panic. “Please come sit down. I’m sorry we didn’t manage this better for you, darling.” Apple Bloom collapses against Rarity and they both slowly drop to the floor like a slow-motion tent deflating.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Bloom asks still staring at me. Rares and I trade a look. I know she’d answer the question if I asked her to, but I feel like I owe the not-so-little pony her answers. Apple Bloom isn’t a kid anymore- none of them are- and she just asked me a question.

“Yeah,” I say trying to keep my words even. “It’s true.” I sit down slowly and let her look. I can feel the others looking at me too.

Bloom’s eyes move to my flank again. Then take in the rest of the damage. They gloss right over my wings, I wouldn’t expect her to notice exactly how bad they are or to know exactly what it means that they look so rough. It doesn’t matter anyway. She knows he didn’t just beat me up. Her eyes say it all. She knows. They all know. Maybe they learned about it at school. Maybe the Crusaders snuck into a club during one of their sleepovers and saw one of those cliche posters in the bathroom. Maybe it’s just so obvious that she can’t not know.

Finally, AB looks me in the eyes again. Carefully, I sit down on the floor then open my forelegs to her. She crashes into my chest as gently as she can and plops down in front of me. It hurts. She’s like AJ and has no idea how strong she really is, but it’s ok. I just hug her and let myself cry in relief. It feels so much better to not have her looking at me like that anymore.

Rarity’s eyes are checking on everypony. I don’t want her to look at me. I messed this up and we both know it. I don’t really want to feel any worse about it. I feel her look at me anyway, and she doesn’t look away. She isn’t giving me the “Honestly, Rainbow Dash, you couldn’t have thought this through a little better look.” She’s giving me the “You’re doing wonderfully, darling” look. It makes me squeeze Bloom just a little bit harder before I let her go and nuzzle her real quick.

“Shall I make us all some tea?” Rares offers.

“Are there any more donuts?” I ask over Apple Bloom’s shoulder. She’s still all tucked in against me, which is fine. “Somepony ate one of mine.” I shoot Scoots a look. She doesn’t respond. “Who spit on your cupcake?” I ask her.

“You can’t be serious,” she snarls.

“Fair enough.” I turn to Rares. “I did give her my second donut.”

“Stop it,” Scoots snaps and pounds her hooves on the table.

I turn to look her in the face and give her my best serious look, which doesn’t even phase her, but keep one foreleg draped around AB’s withers. She’s still leaning on me, and she leans into me a little bit more when I snap at Scootaloo, “You really wanna do this dance, little pony?”

“Yeah, I fucking want to do this dance!” She screams as she stands up from her spot at the table. “You didn’t get beat up, Rainbow Dash! You got raped and then you lied to me about it!”

I’m about to yell back at her, but Rares beats me too it. She uses the voice she used on Sweetie Belle when she was just a kid. It’s the ‘I’m not quite your mother, but I’m close enough’ voice. It’s got enough juice behind it that even my ears fold back.

“You will not speak to her that way.” Rarity stands to her full height, which gives her a few inches on Scoots, and glares with as much stony authority as Princess Luna when she canceled Nightmare Night. “You will sit down and you will listen, or I shall make you sit down and listen. This situation is bad enough without your temper, Scootaloo. You will also refrain from using that kind of language in my home. You know better.

“If Rainbow’s casual tone offends you, then perhaps you ought to take a moment and remember who you are talking to and what she has been through. You may also want to remember that you are not the only pony in this room with a family member tied up in this whole mess. One of your dearest friends just found out something awful about her brother, and you aren’t making the situation any easier on anypony. Now, sit.”

Scoots does what she’s told, then Rares looks at me and says in a perfectly casual tone, “You really should get up off the floor, darling.” Then she sets a plate with two donuts in front of an empty chair and starts making tea.

“You good to get up?” I ask Apple Bloom. She nods and goes to sit by Sweetie Belle. Slowly, I sit on Sweetie’s other side, across from Scootaloo, where Rarity put my donuts. “Sorry, I lied to you Scoots. I forget you aren’t some kid anymore. Honestly, I didn’t want any of you to know the truth. I don’t want you guys getting messed up over this.”

“I’m not wrong, right?” Scoots asks in a quavering voice. She’s barely holding the lid on how angry she is. “He raped you.”

My throat aches. I don’t want to give her this answer. I want to give her some lie that will make her feel better and make it easier for them all to move on, but I can’t. So, I just nod and say, “Yeah.”

Sweetie reaches over with a hoof, but doesn’t quite touch me. Apple Bloom stares at her hooves.

“Then how can you say that you’re still friends?” Scoot shakes her head at me like I just told her the sky isn’t blue anymore.

“I don’t know, Scoot. Part of me hates Mac, and part of me feels bad for him.” I see Bloom’s ear twitch as I talk. “I don’t know if he was just drunk, or confused, or what. I hope it was just a mistake.”

“A mistake? A MISTAKE?!” The lid blows off and Scoots slams her hoof on the table again.

“Don’t yell at me!” I cut her off. I can feel Rares behind me turning to say something, but I wave her off. This is between me and the little punk that I can’t blame for being angry.

“What am I supposed to do, Dash? You’re the closest thing I have to a sister, and somepony raped you. Somepony you know. Hell, somepony I know. Somepony we all trusted. I’m mad, Dash. Aren’t you mad? You can’t fly. Have you seen yourself?” She waves a hoof around at me. “You’re more bruised than not. So, yeah, I’m mad. And you’re, what? Forgiving him? Saying that is was just some stupid mistake he made, like planting carrots instead of tomatoes?”

Every word hurts. I get that she’s mad. I’m mad too. I want to beat Mac to a bleeding pulp, and then I want to be friends again. How fucked up is that? And how am I supposed to explain that to her?

“I don’t think anypony here thinks of the matter so trivially,” Rarity says, setting teacups in front of everypony. Mine has coffee in it. Of course, Rares knows I don’t really like tea all that much.

“Then what?” Scootaloo fires at her.

“Then nothin’,” Apple Bloom says quietly, but fiercely, meeting Scoot’s pink glare. “You think you’re mad, Scoots?. My sister got hauled off by a buncha’ guards this mornin’! My brother raped and beat one of her best friends.

“It’s plantin’ season and we’re already behind. Now we don’t have Mac. The whole farm may fail for the season, which could mean Ponyville can’t survive the winter. All because of my dumbass brother.

“And guess what? I know I should hate him for what he’s done, but he’s my brother and I still love him, even if he’s done the worst wrong a pony can.” Apple Bloom gives me a pathetic, apologetic look. “Thanks for wantin’ it to be a mistake, Dash,” she says softly. “And thanks for not kickin’ me out.”

“Hey,” I say, putting my forehoof on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. And don’t worry, Rares has some ideas for getting help at the farm.”

I look at Scoots. “I know you’re mad. I’m mad too. I think we’re all mad. I don’t care if you’re mad. I care if you’re mean. I care if you let this change you. I care if you stop showing up for your friends because of this. That’s what I care about Scoot.” I start crying again and hold a foreleg out for her. “Now get your scrawny orange flank over here.”

It’s Scootaloo’s turn for a hug. It’s a good one, but it doesn’t last as long as Apple Bloom’s. When she pulls away, Scoot turns to Bloom and they hug. “Sorry,” Scoot says. “This just sucks.”

“S’alright,” AB answers. “Can’t blame you for bein’ upset.”

I catch Sweetie sniffling and looking at me. “Come on, mini-marshmallow.” I wave her in. “You might as well.”

Sweetie’s is the only Crusader hug that doesn’t hurt. It’s quick and it’s soft, and it reminds me of Rarity a little.

We spend the next little while eating and making a plan for getting some help on the farm. Apple Bloom is going to go talk to Granny Smith while the other Crusaders start rounding up some help. Rarity makes a list of the ponies in town that she knows have helped with planting before. When they leave, the Crusaders are still pretty messed up but they’re good. They’re smiling at least, and they have that look they get when they’re on a mission. It’s nice, because it’s how I know that they are going to be ok.

Chapter 11: Friday- Reasons

“Well, that was a shit show.” I wince and carefully get to my hooves to help Rare with the dishes. Rushing down the stairs earlier was the right thing to do, but I’m going to be paying for it for days.

“It wasn’t so bad in the end,” Rare answers. “All in all, I think you handled things admirably.”

Just like the night before, she puts away the food and stuff while I wash the dishes. Then she helps me dry them and put them away too. “What’s next?” I ask.

“Preening?” she suggests with a tired glance toward her bedroom. She must notice something in my reaction that shows how much I don’t want to try and walk up stairs right now, because she adds in a brighter tone, “Or would you like to do something else?”

“Can we just hang out down here for a while?”

“Of course. Why don’t you join me in the sitting room while I write my letters and catch up on a bit of paperwork?”

“Sounds good.”

We walk through to the sitting room. Rarity sits at the desk and gets right to work on a letter. I could take a nap, because I’m me and I can always take a nap, but I’m not really very tired. So, I just let my eyes wander around the room.

Rare’s house is weird. I've been here a ton of times, but I feel like I’ve never really seen it. The sitting room is kind of a parlor and kind of an office. It’s too small for everypony in our group to sit in comfortably though, so we almost never come in here.

It’s bright. That’s one thing I’ve always noticed about Rare’s house, there’s never a shortage of light. Every room has big windows or lamps, so that no matter what time of day it is everything looks bright and clean and “just so.”

I'm laying on a fainting couch that obviously doesn’t get used much. It’s just a little stiff and the upholstery crinkles and kind of creaks when I lay down. Plus, it doesn’t smell quite right. It smells...new. It doesn’t have the clean and faintly flowery scent that the rest of Rarity’s stuff has.

There are bookshelves along two of the walls that have romance novels, sewing manuals, fashion textbooks, and some magical resource books. There are a couple fancy, but comfortable, chairs by the window and a few awards and things laying around. Finally, there’s the neat little desk where Rare is sitting and a big filing cabinet next to it that I'm guessing is full of Boutique paperwork and bazillions of dress designs.

This room doesn't exactly look like I'd expect a room in Rarity’s house to look. It’s too….normal. It splits the difference between the peaceful, havenish feeling of her bedroom and the bright, fancy, busy vibe in the Boutique showroom. I like it though. It has a good balance and kind of reminds of the two sides of Rarity I didn’t always realize existed.

Somepony knocks on the door to The Boutique. I think about getting up to answer it, but before the thought makes it from my brain to my muscles, Rare pops up from her spot at the desk.

“It's alright, Dashie,” she says. “I'll get it. I won’t be but a moment.” She nuzzles me quickly before she walks out. It doesn’t feel like she’s trying to keep me from freaking out about her leaving me alone or whatever. It's just a totally thoughtless thing, like that's just something we always do when one of us leaves a room. It’s weird that it feels normal, but I also really appreciate that it feels that way.

The second she’s out of sight, I feel the blank space where she’s supposed to be. It’s always kind of like that for me when the ponies I’ve been hanging out with leave. It’s like I can hear the silence they were filling by talking to me once they’re gone. That’s part of why I hate being alone so much. This is a little different though. I don’t just want anypony to come fill the void. I want Rarity to come back. I don’t even need her to talk to me or anything. I just want her in the room.

Rare is back quicker than I expected with a pile of mail levitating in front of her face that she’s shuffling through as she walks.

“Anything good?” I ask.

She hums in an ambivalent non-answer, which seems weird.

“What’s up?” I ask more forcefully this time. She ignores me and finishes looking at all of the envelopes in the stack. “Rare?” I’m using my irritated voice now, but she doesn’t seem to care. She just goes through the pile again, silently splitting it into three piles.

Finally, she turns to look at me and an envelope drifts over from the first pile. “You’ll want to read that one,” she says in a businesslike tone. “I’m fairly certain is from the advocate I reached out to about making an appointment to come see you. This one,” she waves a heavy, off-white parchment affair at me, “Is from Contra Forma.”

“What about those?” I point at the other two piles.

“One is a pile of Boutique business and the other is nothing you need to worry about.” She says too carefully as she sits down at the desk and pops open her thick envelope and starts skimming over the pages.

The letter she handed me is in a basic white envelope that I really don’t want to open. I don’t really understand exactly what a victim’s advocate is, but I don’t want one. The thought of having somepony I don’t know holding my hoof in court or telling me how to feel my feelings just sounds like it’s own special brand of hell. Plus, I really don’t think I need an advocate. I’ve got Twilight to read all the books and fill out all the forms, Pinkie to make sure I laugh once in a while, Applejack to make sure that I don’t get fat and lazy, Fluttershy to worry about everything, and Rarity to make sure that I look good and get where I’m supposed to be on time. What else could there be for this pony to do?

Without opening it, I tuck the envelope down into the cushion of the couch then rest my head on my crossed forehooves and watch Rarity read. She isn’t skimming anymore. Whatever the lawpony sent over, it’s serious business. Rare has a little crease between her eyebrows like she’s having to work really hard to understand everything that she’s reading.

She takes so long with the letter that I get bored and decide to open mine anyway. The letter is simple and to the point. Rare’s friend says that her marefriend has to finish up something today, but she’ll be on the early train to Ponyville to meet with me tomorrow. If we decide that we want to use somepony else more local, then we just need to let her know by tonight.

It’s kinda weird that she doesn’t yammer on about how awful it is that I got raped or whatever. I wonder how much Rare actually put in the first letter.

The idea that this advocate pony doesn’t already know exactly what she’s walking into actually makes me feel a little better. I mean, it’s something to do with her job, so she must have some idea and know that it isn’t a good thing. But, she can’t know exactly what happened. Nopony could keep their response that bland if they really knew what happened.

Finally, Rare lets out a huge sigh and puts down the stack of papers she’s been reading through. “What’s she got to say?” I ask.

“Nothing very good, I’m afraid,” Rare answers rubbing her head just a little. “Twilight seems to have sent over an extensive collection of research documents, which may or may not prove helpful. Contra asked if I could potentially curb Twilight’s enthusiasm just a smidge.”

We share a knowing look. “Good luck with that,” I say.

“Indeed,” she answers absently. Obviously, her brain is still working through all of the stuff in the letter.

I’m not surprised Twilight sent a bunch of stuff over to the lawpony. I am surprised that Rare isn’t rubbing the fact in my face though. Now would be a good time for her to lean over and say in her totally fake innocent voice, “I did tell you Twilight would help us, didn’t I?” But she isn’t doing that.

“What kind of stuff did Twilight send over?” I ask.

Rare stops rubbing her head and shrugs a little. “Oh a little of this and a little of that,” she says. “Apparently, the research was quite comprehensive.”

“Meaning… what exactly?”

“Dash-”

“Just tell me, Rarity.”

“Meaning that Twilight approached her research from the same point of view she articulated last night.”

“Seriously?”

Rare sighs again. “Yes, darling.”

“So, she pretty much told your lawpony that you deserve to go to prison for helping me?”

“No!” She snaps at me. “And that is a horrible accusation for you to make.” Her expression softens a little bit when my ears twitch back at the outburst but not much. “She merely acknowledged the legal realities in play. Most specifically, that Equestrian law is clear about the use of aggressive magic. Had I acted in self-defense, there wouldn’t be an issue. Had I simply shielded you from him, there wouldn’t be an issue.”

“The law says you’re just supposed to not use your magic?” I want to stand up and start pacing. I need to move. I hate feeling frustrated and confused like this. My wings keep twitching, because I’ve never been able to keep them from showing when I’m irritated. The little pops and sparks of pain from the twitching are making it even harder for me to think. So, I can’t move and I can’t think.

I have to suck in four of the deepest breaths I can manage before I’m able to say anything else. Rarity waits patiently for me to calm down. She’s careful to not get that look on her face though- the one that would let me know she feels bad for me. Her expression is more like the one she uses when she’s watching somepony try on a dress she already knows isn’t going to look good on them, but she has to wait for them to figure that out before they’ll listen to anything she might have to say.

“But you kicked his ass,” I finally manage to spit out, “so you deserve to get locked up?”

She shakes her head. “No, and that isn’t what Twilight was saying,” she answers calmly like there was never a disruption in the conversation. “She mentioned a variety of possible defenses in her notes to Contra Forma, but none of them are particularly simple. The hope was that Twilight would be able to find some precedent to simply shield me from prosecution. Despite her exhaustive efforts, there was simply no such defense to be found I’m afraid.”

“So what now?”

“Now Contra earns her retainer I suppose.” She shrugs. “Most likely crafting an affirmative defense, which will essentially state that -although I was not acting in self-defense- I was acting in defense of another pony and therefore my actions were justified.”

“Will that work?”

“Perhaps,” she muses. “And if it doesn’t, as I’ve said, I don’t particularly mind. I won’t deny what I’ve done, Rainbow, because I am not ashamed. If I must be held accountable to the law for saving your life, then I shall consider the whole affair a bargain at twice the price.”

“It’s just so messed up!”

“You aren’t wrong,” she says with a little edge to her voice that I wasn’t really expecting. She seems so ok with all of this, but that little slip reminds me that even though she’s Rarity, there’s no way she’s just ok with getting locked up. She just knows better than to waste being upset about stuff she can’t change. “Unfortunately, this seems to be one of those times in our lives where being right simply isn’t enough, darling. And we don’t know that I’m going to be convicted of anything. Contra still seems baffled by the guards' behavior, and if the work Twilight turned out in the first few hours is any indication, then she shall continue work relentlessly on my behalf. So, let’s not waste time or energy fretting about matters we have no control over, alright?”

By the end of her little speech, her voice sounds all too familiar. It’s the same tone she uses when we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no way to get home and she suddenly points out some beautiful cloud formation or something that supposed to make us all feel better. It makes her sound like a mix between a total airhead and an eternal optimist, even though we all know that she really isn’t either of those things, and it’s a signal that we’ve all whined around enough and it’s time to start figuring out how to get home.

“Whatever,” I sigh.

“Wonderful, I’m so glad you agree. Let’s focus on something we can do something about, shall we? Perhaps now would be an ideal time to get your morning preening out of the way?”

She makes it sound like a suggestion, but it really isn’t, so I just say, “Sure. Let’s go,” and we head upstairs.

There really isn’t too much for Rares to do, but she still takes her time. I don’t feel like I have to say anything to fill the silence, which is nice. She doesn’t start humming happily until she’s working on the second wing, and I can’t help but wonder if she suggested doing this because grooming and stuff helps calm her down. It’s not like I mind. It feels really good and helps me feel better too.

I’m mostly asleep when she’s done, but I try to sit up when she does.

“You should rest, darling,” she says gently pushing me back down into the bed.

“You should rest, darling,” I say as petulantly as I can through my drowsiness.

“I couldn’t possibly just now I’m afraid. I simply must get some work done today.”

There’s a familiar flicker in the back of my brain that says I should probably feel bad about how much work she’s missed the past few days, but the rest of my brain knows the look she’d give me if I tried to apologize. So, I don’t say anything about it.

A nap sounds nice, but I don’t want to be alone, so I grab my book and follow her downstairs into her inspiration room. How many of these fainting couches does she have? This one is more broken in than the one in the living room though. Super comfy.

The second I lay down, Opal comes for a scratch behind the ears, then she sits on my book. Typical cat.

Watching Rare work is cool. She’s got a bunch of big projects going, but she starts with a few basic repairs for ponies around town, then a Cutesinera dress that she’s gifting to somepony because she knows their parents can’t afford one. I’ve never paid attention to watching her work. Sewing and stuff definitely isn’t my thing. But because I wasn’t watching very closely, I’ve also never realized how hard she works. There’s no quit in that pony. It doesn’t matter if it’s a basic hem repair on somepony’s old jacket or if it’s an elaborate design of her own, she doesn’t let herself make mistakes. She mutters to herself when she misses a stitch then hums happily as she undoes five minutes worth of work to fix the problem, so everything is perfect.

Even when Opal moves to do something else, I don’t open my book. I just put my head down and watch Rare. I don’t know what she’s doing, and I don’t care. I should probably let myself fall asleep, but I feel all of the memories and feelings that I’ve been trying to avoid boiling just beneath the surface of my mind. If I relax just a little they’re going to boil over again. Focusing on Rarity gives me just enough of a buffer to stay present.

She starts singing to herself again. We all sing. It’s kind of a requirement of living in Ponyville. All my friends can sing pretty well. This is different though. Rares hums or sings a lot. It’s like she’s filling in the soundtrack for her day, but I wonder if the tune matches what she’s got going on inside or if it’s just another cover up to distract me from noticing that she’s thinking or worried.

There’s a knock at the door. “I’m so sorry we aren’t open today!” Rares calls out.

“Rarity, it’s us,” Twilight answers.

Rares glances at me. “Let ‘em in,” I say and start trying to stand up. Part of me wants to be bugged that everypony is here. I was enjoying the quiet, peaceful feeling. The rest of me is just glad that they’re done talking to the guards already. Plus, I want to know what happened.

Rarity goes and undoes whatever magical lock she had on the door. Twi, Shy, and Pinkie follow her back into the room. “Where’s AJ?” I ask.

“Still in interrogation,” Twilight says quickly. She only looks at me for a second and then glances away. Any hope I’d had that we’d wake up and stuff would just magically be better today dies.

“Why don’t I make us all a little something?” Rares offers and starts walking toward the kitchen.

“I’ll help,” Flutters says and follows her out.

“I’ll... go grab some snacks from Sugarcube Corner,” Pinkie says a second later making it super obvious that they’re all trying to give me and Twilight a chance to talk.

“Come on, Egghead,” I say standing up to walk over to the big sitting area in the showroom. It’s where we always sit when we’re all here, because it’s where we all fit. That’s why the sitting room was so new.

Twi stays a couple steps behind me during. It kinda freaks me out, like she’s going to attack me from behind or something. It doesn’t matter that I know she isn’t going to do anything like that, by the time I get to the next fainting couch I’m on edge and grinding my teeth.

Twilight sits on the sofa. She looks beat. It’s the look she gets when she’s been staying up way too late for way too many days in a row. Plus, she has that defeated thing going on. The one that says she isn’t making the kind of progress her checklist and calendar says she needs to be making to achieve her usual level of kickassery.

I know I should ask if she’s ok. I should probably tell her thank you for trying to help Rarity. I should, but I can’t. All I can see is her explaining to Spike why Rarity was wrong to chuck Mac down the street. The memory of her logical tone sends a wave of angry chills down my spine. So, I don’t say anything. She doesn’t say anything either though, so we just sit in the kind of heavy, tense silence that I usually fly away from as fast as I possibly can.

Shy and Rarity must be talking in the kitchen, or Rarity is listening at the door and refusing to come out until Twilight and I have talked, because they should be done with the tea or whatever by now.

That sucks.

I’m pissed, but I need Twilight. My Twilight. I need my friggin’ Egghead to help me figure out how to get Rares out of this mess. I need Twilight to make sure Fluttershy doesn’t go off the deep end. I need Twilight, because I’m going to be a courtroom soon and I’m not going to understand a damn thing anypony is saying, and I’m going to need Twilight and Rarity both there to make sure nothing gets screwed up. That’s a two pony job, and I trust Rarity’s attorney about as much as AJ trusts the Flim Flam Brothers. I don’t need the Princess of Friendship. I need Twilight on my team.

But first, I need her to look at me. She’s been very obviously not looking at me since she got here. Part of me can’t blame her. I know what I look like right now. If I saw somepony this messed up on the street, I probably wouldn’t want to look at them either. But I’m not just some pony on the street. So, the fact that she’s acting like I’m not me anymore isn’t helping me feel any less irritated with her.

“Twi?” I say and I’m proud of myself for keeping my exasperation out of my voice. She stops looking around the shop but doesn’t quite look at me either. “Dammit Twi, just look at me!” I lose what little control I had.

Her eyes snap to mine and instantly fill with tears. “Rainbow, I...” The words catch in her throat and she looks away again.

I get up and walk over to her. She throws herself at me, which hurts because she still hasn’t figured out that she’s way stronger as an alicorn than she ever could have been as a unicorn. I let her hug me and pat her back a little.

“I’m so sorry,” she says over and over. “I’m sorry I was so terrible to you yesterday. I’m sorry. I- I- I couldn’t believe… and then the Princess… It just doesn’t make any sense. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “Things are pretty messed up all around.”

“I know and I’m so sorry, Dash.”

I lean into the hug a little bit. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Twi. I just need you on my side.”

She pulls back with a little offended look on her face. The look quickly changes to something sheepish and apologetic though. “Of course I’m on your side, Rainbow.”

“Good.” I pull her in for one more squeeze. “Now can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

That’s when the others come back. They must have literally been waiting at the doors before they came in. Flutters sits next to Twilight on the sofa. I go back to my spot on the fainting couch and Pinkie takes a big armchair. She brought a tray of cupcakes that are frosted half purple and half rainbows with little “RD and Twily made up!” party flags poking out of them.

She looks normal, but something isn’t right. The vibe between me and Twilight is still off. We didn’t really talk about anything. Twi just got to apologize enough to be able to function. Pinkie is in tune with that kind of stuff. She’s probably worried that she made the wrong kind of cupcake decorations. She cares a lot about making sure the party actually matches the occasion.

Pinkie isn’t the only source of weird vibes though. Fluttershy and Rarity both seem off too. Like, more off than they were when they went into the kitchen.

Rare takes a spot on the floor in front of me after she sets a glass of water on the end table where I can reach it. She is close enough to touch, but just barely. She probably assumes that I won’t notice that something is going on, but it’s too late. I noticed and I’m not just going to let it go.

Why is Marshmallow on the floor? And why does she look like that? And why is Flutters avoiding making eye contact? What happened in that kitchen?

I lean forward. I have to clench my teeth, because I’m stretching my ribs in a way they really don’t like again, but I manage not to let out the whine I feel in my throat and cover it with a little coughing sound. Rares leans back just a little so I don’t have to stretch so far, and I nuzzle right behind her ear. I know what it must look like, but I don’t care.

Rare is sitting with her perfectly prissy posture. Her cup of tea is hovering in a perfectly controlled blue aura in front of her face- waiting to be sipped. Her cupcake and a tiny little fork are perfectly arranged on a neat little plate on the coffee table. Other than being on the floor, she looks perfect and normal for Rarity. But, now that I’m close enough to touch her, I notice that she’s shaking, like she’s either about to burst into tears or to start yelling at somepony.

“You ok?” I whisper. She just nods her head a tiny bit, which is actually a really good indicator that everything is not ok. If everything was fine, she wouldn’t make a show of minimizing my question.

Shy’s definitely got something to do with the weirdness. Rarity’s eyes are moving carefully around the room to maintain the illusion that she isn’t upset, but she looks at Fluttershy for a nanosecond too long. Shy’s wings are twitchy and Twilight is staring at the bottom of her cup. So, she must know what’s going on too.

I hate drama. I don’t know what I’m doing, but this isn’t ok. I want to ask Rarity a question, but I don’t want everypony to hear it. I wish I could see her face. Whatever is going on, I don’t know what it is or how to fix it.

Pinks shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She knows something’s up too. She’s looking around at everypony, and it’s like the air is slowly leaking out of her mane again. She gives me this big-eyed pleading look. Whatever the drama is, Pinkie can’t handle it right now. She needs a break.

I nuzzle Rares again, and she leans into it just a little and nods. She must have seen Pinkie’s look too. We don’t have to talk about it to agree that we aren’t going to make Pinks deal with anything else right now.

I pull back from Rare and give Pinks the best smile I can manage. Her mane instant starts curling again and I can almost hear the expression in her eyes saying ‘thank you thank you thank you Dashie!”

“How ya feelin’ today, Dashie?” Pinkie asks in her ‘let’s move onto something else” voice.

“Sore,” I admit, “but it could be worse. How did it go at the station?”

Her mane starts losing volume again, but just a little bit. “They just asked a lot of silly questions,” she says and starts fidgeting with her cupcake wrapper.

“I’m sure you did fine, darling,” Rares chimes in with her reassuring confidence. I can’t see her face, but she must be smiling a real smile at Pinkie. Nothing else would make her perk up like that. Even though she’s still kinda off.

“It didn’t feel fine,” Pinkie says to Rarity. “It felt like they wanted me to say that you were trying to sneak into a party you weren’t invited to or something. They really wanted to know if you had any magic-pony friends besides Twilight.”

“Why would they want to know that?” I ask.

“They seem to be working a theory that Rarity had an accomplice,” Twilight answers in that logical tone that I’m learning to hate.

“Wait,” I raise a hoof and try to infuse my words with a laugh and a double dose of sarcasm. “So, they don’t just think that me and Rares decided to use me as rape-bait for one of the most mild-mannered stallions in Equestria? They also think that we decided to ask somepony to help us, but only after he’d beat the shit out of me and mounted me from behind?”

“I didn’t say it was a reasonable theory, Dash,” Twilight says looking right at me this time. “Although, some explanation must be made for how Rarity, who has never had any particularly advanced magical training, was able to generate enough power to throw a stallion of Mac’s size more than a hundred yards.

“Mac’s attorney has all but announced what their defense strategy is going to be. He’s leaning heavily on some antiquated legal codes that date back to the unification, which were put in place because of earth pony and pegasi prejudice against unicorn magic. The laws essentially make it completely illegal for a unicorn to use their magic in any aggressive fashion on non-unicorns.

“Asking these questions now is actually a very favorable approach for Rarity. If the investigation were to find an accomplice, who was actually the pony that had attacked Mac, then Rarity would be in the clear.”

The words “attacked Mac” make me see red. Mac attacked me! What the hell is Twilight thinking? Why does she keep talking like Mac is some kind of victim in all of this?

Before I calm down enough to say anything, Pinkie speaks up. “But there isn’t anypony else.” She chimes in sadly. “So what does that mean?”

“It means that my actions must be defended on their own merits,” Rarity answers calmly. Then she looks back at Twilight. “Contra mentioned that you’d sent over some materials to assist with my defense?”

“Yes.” Twilight goes to full presentation mode now. “There have been very few cases like this where the assault charge was upheld, but there are some very unique concerns here. Typically, the first line of defense would be ‘extreme emotional duress.’ One of your good friends was in danger, so you were well within your rights to defend her, and because of the heightened emotional state your ability to regulate your magic was not what it might have normally been.”

“That sounds like a good option,” I say. Only in my head do I add, “Because it’s what fucking happened!”

“Except that Rarity wasn’t out of control,” Shy mumbles. She’s looking at me through her forelock. She knows me too well. She knows that I’m pissed off right now. That’s why she’s giving me the “please calm down. Don’t be angry” look. “She said yesterday that she was holding back trying not to kill him.”

“Precisely,” Twilight says. “The basic premise that Rarity is a pony that loses her composure during high-pressure situations is easily dismissed.”

Pinkie giggles. I literally feel Rares give her the eyebrow. “What?” Pinkie says. Then stands up and acts like Rarity did at that first tea party thing we had for Princess Celestia backing up toward the kitchen, eyes glaring at each one of us in turn. “Nopony move! Just stay where you are and my fancy fancy dress will stay perfectly pretty!”

I have to laugh at the memory. Rare doesn’t just roll her eyes. She rolls her entire head and groans. ”That was one time! It was the test outing of my very first Gala dress!”

“Riiiiight,” Pinkie laughs and goes back to her chair.

Pinks has a point. Marshmallow plays the damsel in distress card more than anypony I know. The funny part is that she almost never does it when she’s actually in distress (except for that time with diamond dogs). When shit is really hitting the fan, Rare is cool as a cucumber. She walked up to a dragon and tried to steal from them for pony’s sake.

“What would be the next line of defense?” Rares asks bringing us all back to the point and then shooting a little glare at Pinkie Pie. Pinkie just sticks her tongue out in response.

“That Mac deserved what he got,” Twi picks back up in presentation mode. “Perhaps you used more magic than you should have, but the consequences should simply be considered part of his sentence for the crime he committed. For example, a pony caught stealing may suffer some terrible side effects of anti-theft magic, which can last for months. Each month perpetrator experiences symptoms may be subtracted from their overall sentence, depending on the severity of the symptoms and the severity of the crime.”

“Oh, that’s great,” I’m really trying to not sound pissed, but the more Twilight talks the angrier I feel. “So, because he got his flank kicked by a mare, he doesn’t have to deal with any consequences at all?”

My brain hurts and I’m suddenly exhausted. I think Mac should go to jail, but not forever. The laws that Twilight and Rarity keep talking about are totally stupid, except that I grew up in Cloudsdale where a lot of ponies still talk about how unicorns can’t be trusted to not just take over the world with their magic. Twilight is my friend and Rarity’s, but she keeps talking about all the ways and reasons why Rare might be in serious trouble for helping me. It’s all just confusing and I’m just about to the point where I can’t think about it anymore.

“That’s a gross overstatement,” Twilight grumps back at me. “Mac has some bruises and a couple cracked ribs. If his recovery time is counted as concurrent imprisonment, it would shave a few months off of any sentence at most.”

“Oh. Ok.” I calm down a little bit. “How much time could he get?”

“If the attempted murder charge carries, Apple Bloom could be a grandmare before he gets out.”

“If it doesn’t?” Rares asks.

“If he’s found guilty of the rape at trial, he’ll probably get ten years,” Twi answers

“If he does the sensible thing and pleads guilty?” Rare counters.

“Five.”

Why does five years seem like such a long time? We’re talking about my rapist getting what he deserves and I feel bad for him- not just him. I feel bad for AJ and Granny Smith. How are they supposed to keep Sweet Apple Acres running without Mac for that long? I feel bad for Apple Bloom. She’s just a kid, and she loves her big brother. Is she really only going to be able to go see him at some prison a few times a year?

“What happens if the judge-ponies are Dummy McDummertons and Rarity gets in trouble?” Pinkie is trying really hard to be brave, but her voice is shaking.

“Three to five, depending on how severe the committee feels the infraction is,” Twilight says staring at the bottom of her cup again. Pinkie throws herself at Rarity. Rares just takes the impact and holds Pinks while she cries.

“It’s not right, Twilight,” Fluttershy says. She finally sounds like she gives a damn, instead of just sounding like she’s shocked and angry. “You know it isn’t right.”

Twilight just hangs her head for a minute. “I- I think Celestia would issue a pardon if it came down to that.”

“Fat lot of help that would be,” I grunt. “Why not just pardon her now and get it over with?”

“Because that would mean Celestia thinks Rarity did something wrong,” Twi answers. “Which she doesn’t. It’s better for everypony for Rarity’s name to be cleared by a hearing in open court than for Celestia to make a unilateral decision like that.”

I can’t help it. I know it isn’t Twilight’s fault that things are playing out like this, but it sucks. Rares can’t afford to have the kind press that’s going to happen because of this bullshit. It could ruin her career.

Suddenly, I feel like I just got hit by a train.

Careers.

My career.

The Wonderbolts…

It’s the offseason- three months of being back in Ponyville full time, except for one practice every other week. Spitfire said that they wanted to work a Sonic Rainboom into the big finish this year. I’m supposed to be going to flight guard training in a couple weeks.

I’m a Wonderbolt that can’t fly.

Chapter 12: Friday- Grounded

It’s like somepony died and that pony was me.

The only thing I ever wanted to be is a Wonderbolt. Getting called up was one of the best days of my life. Months later when I’d finally settled into the routine, I realized that I’d made it. I really was a Bolt and I would be as long as I stayed on my game. I wasn’t just middle of the pack either. Once I stopped being a nervous idiot and let myself relax into being a part of the team, I kicked ass and not just in the shows and public events.

The air shows are a huge part of being a Wonderbolt, but that’s not all there is. We’re a legit military unit. The Bolts are an elite strike force. We do rescue missions and reconnaissance.

All the galavanting across Equestria for friendship and stuff was actually really good training for being a Wonderbolt. I knew how to work in a team. I knew how to deal with other cultures and stuff. I knew how to not give up on a mission just because things got screwed up. My place on the Bolts was solid, which was kind of a big deal with all the recruits basically killing each other to try and get a spot.

Now… I’m grounded. Oh, I’ll probably fly again, but I might never fly the same again. It took me my entire life to get on the team and I might be starting from ground zero because of what happened to me. Except for this time, I’m older. Everypony knows that it’s way harder for adults to recover from massive injuries like this.

I would’ve stayed a Wonderbolt for as long as I stayed on my game, but Big Mac put his giant hooves on my wings and made them go crunch. Nopony’s said it yet, but there’s been that look. The doctor had it. Fluttershy had it. Swift Justice had it, because they all have wings and they all know that -even though none of my fractures are terrible- recovering from having every bone in my wings broken is possible. But getting back to where I was isn’t very likely. Even if it is possible, it’s going to take a long damn time and by then the Bolts will have had to fill my spot with somepony that didn’t let themselves get messed up like this.

The thoughts and logic that all add up to me losing the only dream I ever cared about suck me down into a dark tunnel of memories that play on repeat. My wings flaring, followed instantly by Mac pinning them against the rough wood planks. Then the crunch and whine of bones breaking and wood groaning to stay in one piece. I feel my wings twitching, and the pain is so intense that I can’t tell if it’s a memory or if it’s real. Only this time instead of just feeling the physical pain of being broken, it’s like my wings feel some other kind of pain I’ve never known before. It’s a kind of loss that just seems impossible because it’s so big and it never ends. And it keeps happening over and over and over again. Each time the hips behind be thrust forward and the force pushes up through my spine and I feel the weight of heavy hooves grinding down on my wings one more time.

Slowly, my mind starts to circle back to reality. None of the sensations really fade. The rotation and repetition just become so familiar that I’m able to remind myself that they aren’t real. They’re just memories. The fact that I’m probably not going to be a Wonderbolt for much longer is real, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I get why the team has to move on. It sucks, but I know it isn’t a thing I can change.

Layer by layer I come back to the present. I have no idea how long I was out. Maybe all the darkness only lasted a few seconds, but I don’t think so. It’s definitely afternoon now. Rarity is here with me, but everypony else is gone. I don’t know how she got everypony to leave instead of staying to worry about me, but I’m glad she did.

She’s still on the floor with her head on the couch, just a couple inches from mine. She’s watching me, but not staring. She’s worried, but not scared. She’s tired, but not irritated. She’s just here, waiting for me.

My eyes latch onto hers like a landing strip in a storm. She’s the lighthouse in a hurricane rocked sea. She’s the homing beacon on my radar. Those calm, patient, worried eyes will keep me safe. They will guide me home.

Some part of me silently begs for her to tell me that I’m wrong. I need her to tell me that it didn’t happen. I need her to tell me that I didn’t get raped and lose my career all in one night. I need her to tell me that I came by for some weird reason, fell asleep, and now I’m running late for something important. So, I need to get my lazy ass off her couch and let her get back to work.

I need her to lie to me. Otherwise, I don’t know I’m going to function.

As if she can read the panic and desperation in my eyes, she gives me the only lie she can and nuzzles my cheek. For a split second, I can imagine a world where a nuzzle from Rarity would mean something completely different than it actually does. It’s an alternate reality where I’m home because, of course, I live with Rarity that’s what marefriends do. I fell asleep on my favorite fainting couch, because listening to her yammer on about Moonlight Silk gets boring after about .025 seconds. Now she’s waking me up so I’m not late for practice, or a party, or something. Rares would never let her special somepony get away with being late.

The weird, half-second daydream makes me a whole different kind of sad for some reason, but it’s a sad I can deal with. I processed a long time ago that I’d probably never have that kind of life. Of course, I never really imagined that kind of life with Rarity, because… she’s Rarity. But, I did imagine it with other ponies and I knew it just wouldn’t happen for me. Being a Wonderbolt was totally worth the trade. The disappointment of knowing that I would be alone was always totally balanced by the awesomeness of knowing I’d be a Wonderbolt.

That isn’t true anymore. Now I just have nothing.

I blink and look into Rare’s eyes again. She has the same patient worried look. I nuzzle her again. I want the dream back. I want to feel safe and loved. I want to know that everything is ok, and the worst that can happen is a dragon attacking or Applejack not having enough apples to make cider this year. But, my the memories and bad thoughts are like a top spinning out of control in my brain sending flashes of images across my mind and waves on uncontrolled, unwelcome feelings through my body.

I’m hurt. I can’t fly. I can’t be a Wonderbolt anymore. Somepony asked me to spread my legs yesterday so they could get pictures of what happened to me. Scoots knows that I’m just a broken piece of garbage now. Mac is in jail. Shy is so angry she can barely function. Applejack has to figure out how to run the farm by herself. Twilight is so caught up in being logical that being in the same room with her is like having sandpaper rubbed against my face. Pinkie is holding herself together with frosting, because her friends are fighting and there’s no way to fix it. And Rarity... Rarity is here with me at the bottom of the shitpile.

I wish he’d just killed me.

I barely move my muzzle searching for more comfort, even though I know nothing can possibly help. Rarity moves so our foreheads are touching again. I think she’s whispering something to me, but I’m not hearing her. That spot on my head is my anchor. That spot on my head where she’s touching me is the only thing that makes me have the tiniest hope that if I can just wait it out the storm of emotion will ebb and life won’t be so bad.

The small contact helps a little, but it isn’t enough. I need more of her. I need that alternate reality back. I need the break from the truth that feels like it’s crushing me from the inside out. I can’t handle any of this right now.

I start to move off the couch. Rare tries to pull back to give me space, but space is the last thing I want so I don’t let her. I can’t get my legs to do what I want. I’m too sore. They’ve been in one spot for too long. My rump fucking hurts. So, I just kinda roll off the couch onto her. I should crash into her or hit the floor hard, but of course I don’t. She catches me. She cradles me in her magic, but I don’t want it. I want her. I reach my forehooves around her neck and pull until our chests touch. Somehow, she sits me down on the floor without making any part of me hurt.

It still isn’t enough. There’s desperation and panic creeping into my darkness now like if I don’t manage to distract myself enough then I’ll just disappear into all these dark feelings. I don’t want to disappear. Rarity is still here. She’s still with me. She can save me. She can make everything better. I don’t know how she can. I just know that it feels like she can.

So, I lean back and pull her on top of me. She squeaks something that might be my name, but I’m still not paying attention to anything she says. The pressure of her body on mine is like being wrapped in the best blanket in Equestria. I use every muscle I have to hold her, even my wings twitch for her, but they hurt so damn much I can’t move them. I wrap our tails together. I pull and mold my body into hers until the giant hooves on me disappear. The deep, sharp, splitting pain is gone; and the only thing I can feel is Rarity.

I close my eyes and hide my muzzle in her mane. I breathe deep until the smell of the dirty street is gone, and so is the smell of fresh air mixed with the pyro-fuel they use to make the smoke patterns at the Bolts shows. I breathe as deep as I can until all I can smell is Rarity.

I turn my face into her neck just a little more, so my ear is against her shoulder. I can hear her heartbeat. It’s a little fast, but it’s steady and it’s slowing down. Now that I’m not falling or pulling on her anymore, she’s calm and her breaths and heartbeat quickly return to their normal, and now familiar, pace. I listen and count the beats until my own husky breathing fades and my heart is beating as close to the rhythm of Rarity’s as I can manage.

She’s on top of me and there’s pressure, but she isn’t really letting me feel her weight. Somehow, she knows when I’m calm and present enough that she can change our position. She wraps a leg around me and we roll to the side. Her legs are over, under, and around me; holding me close like a foal holding their teddy bear. It only takes a second and all the places where I was forcing us together relax and fit into place like puzzle pieces. The tension instantly goes out of my muscles. I deflate into her and Rarity cradles me gently.

Now I hear her whispering to me that I’m going to be alright. Now I feel the small strokes of her hoof in my mane.

I feel dirty. I want to push her away and tell her not to touch me. This is wrong. Not just because being this close to Rarity is wrong, but because she’s Rarity and I’m ruined. She’s a beautiful, white unicorn and I’m nothing. She has a future. Even if all of this legal stuff ruins her career, Rarity will always be the type of pony everypony should know. I’ll be lucky if I manage to go back to being the Ponyville Weather Team Captain. There are so many reasons I should let her go so she won’t get tainted by all the darkness on me, but having her hold the only thing that makes me feel any better and I’m selfish. So, I just snuggle in a little closer.

I wish I could fly a thousand feet up and then just let myself crash to the ground and die. That would end all of this. But I can’t do that. All I can do is this. This is what I can do. And, because she’s Rarity and she’ll do anything she can to help me, she lets me.

I fell asleep. It’s like my brain knew I couldn’t undo what I’d done. There was no way to get myself out of that situation without massive awkwardness and explanations that I didn’t have to give. So, my brain shut down to give me a restart.

The floor is softer than it was when I fell asleep. It takes me a second to realize that Rare must have moved me. Us. She moved us, because she’s still here with me. My body isn’t crushing against her anymore, but she’s still here. My head is on her chest, and she has one leg wrapped around my shoulders. She feels relaxed. Her breathing is even. For a second, I think that maybe she’s asleep. Then I hear a page turn and open my eyes.

We’re in her bed, under the blankets. Her sketchbook is on the table. There’s an empty cup there too. One of the books Spike brought over is floating in front of her.

“How long was I out?” I ask startling her a little.

She puts the book down, then looks at me. “Just for a couple of hours,” she answers, carefully controlling the concern and relief in her voice. It’s pretty obvious that she wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from me when I woke up.

“You didn’t sleep?”

“I worked on a couple of things instead.” She shrugs.

“Why?”

She’s making a face that I don’t get, like she can’t decide if she wants to facehoof herself and say something about me being dense or if she should just explain herself. It takes a second, but I watch her decide to tell me the truth instead of saving me from it.

“I have a few orders that I’d like to get finished and sent out before my career is ruined,” she says. She’s sad. She’s so damn sad.

What is she going to do? It’s not like anypony does background checks on who makes their clothes, but Rares has a name ponies know and the ponies that she really wants to sell clothes to aren’t going to like the idea of having a known criminal as their designer. They’ll know what she did. She can’t put her name into the hurricane of high fashion anymore. Those ponies will tear it apart. I don’t know much, but even I know that.

“I can’t fly,” I say blandly, because it’s the only thing I can think of to say. It’s not like I’m really worse off than she is, and I’m not trying to get her to feel bad for me. I just want her to know that I get it. I get losing something it’s taken a lifetime to build.

“I know, darling,” she says nuzzling me.

She gets it. I can tell from the heaviness in her voice. I’m glad that I don’t have to explain that the Wonderbolts aren’t going to save a spot for a pegasus that can’t fly. They aren’t going to put a rape victim on a poster for colts and fillies to hang up on their bedroom wall. I’m never going to be Rainbow Dash, Wonderbolt again. Now, I’m Rainbow Dash, that pony that got raped that one time.

We just stay like that for a while. Eventually, my stomach rumbles, but I don’t really want to eat. She’s playing with my mane. Opal got up on the bed at some point and fell asleep on me. I’m kinda starting to like that cat, but I miss Tank.

I look around the room and see her sketchbook. “Can I see?” I ask nodding to it.

She picks it up and opens it to a page at the front. It’s Nightmare Moon. It’s a view from the side. It takes me a second to remember that Rarity was standing up on the balcony thing when Nightmare Moon came back. That’s what’s happening in the picture. The next one I recognize. It’s almost exactly how that memory looks in my brain. It’s Fluttershy yelling at a dragon.

Twilight with her new wings. Applejack at a rodeo. Sweetie Belle on stage. Pinkie playing with the twins. And then, it’s me. There’s a picture of me streaking across the sky. There’s one of me in my gala dress. Then there’s one of me sleeping on a cloud. Every other picture looks like a memory, but this one isn’t. There’s no way Rares has ever seen me napping from that perspective. This one she just drew.

The next few she shows me are designs. A long, pretty dress for Fluttershy; a lab coat for Twilight; a huge party hat for Pinkie. The pictures make me feel kind of nostalgic. The designs make me smile. There’s one of Applejack that makes me laugh out loud. It’s a huge, flowy, apple-looking thing. The page has a note on the top that says “too much?”.

There are a lot more pictures in the book, but I’ve seen enough. “Thanks,” I say. “Those are awesome, Rare.”

“Of course,” she says quietly as she puts the book on the bedside table. There’s a distant look on her face. She’s sad. It’s like there are grey clouds rolling around behind her blue eyes.

I want to make her feel better. “How can I help?” I ask.

If I didn’t know what I just saw, then I’d think I’d made it up. She blinks and the clouds are gone. Instantly, there it is- that perfect, in-control, prissy, Rarity face. It’s so fake I could vomit. I push off her and sit up. “Don’t do that,” I say glaring at her. “Don’t fucking do that. Not to me.”

Her ears disappear, flat against her head. She looks… scared? No, not scared. She looks sorry, and that makes me mad too. I watch the tears rise then, in a single blink, they’re gone, which turns my anger into guilt. I didn’t mean to make her cry.

I force myself to take a breath. I settle down and relax a little. I reach for her hoof and she lets me take it. “I can’t stay here if you do that,” I tell her.

“I know I’m fucked up,” I add and start tracing flight patterns on her foreleg again. “And I suck at feelings and stuff, but I just- just-”

She doesn’t do anything to rush me. She’s patiently watching me, listening to me fight for words to explain myself, but she’s also obviously thinking something because the tears are back. Before she can blink them away again, I touch her face with my hoof- I wish it was a wing. The first drop falls from her eyes like the first drop of rain in a storm, and just like a storm so many more drops fall after the first one.

She doesn’t want me to watch her cry. She turns away from me and hides her face in the pillow. I lie down next to her. I want to pull her to me and hold her like she’s been holding me since it happened. I want her to know that she isn’t alone. I want to ride out the pain with her, but it feels wrong. I don’t have the same strength she does. I don’t have anything to give her that isn’t ruined.

So, I do the only thing I can think of- the only thing she’s done for me that feels like it’s safe to do for her. I sing. I sing her a sad lullaby from when I was little. When I finish the song, she’s looking at me again. She’s still crying, but she isn’t hiding it anymore. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Sorry for getting mad.”

“It’s nothing, Rainbow. I shouldn’t have tried to hide from you. I apologize.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask without trying to hide my concern after a couple of seconds.

“Because I’m frightened,” she answers whispering again.

“Of what?”

“Of what might happen to you if I sleep.”

“Rare-”

“I heard something, Dash.” She cuts me off, and there’s suddenly a hard, angry glint in her eye. “I heard it. I heard you and did nothing. The worst thing imaginable was taking place a stone’s throw from my front door. I heard it, and I did nothing. I chose to keep myself safe in my little house, rather than help somepony in trouble.”

“You didn-”

“You are broken, and it’s my fault. I heard ponies in the market, but didn’t trouble myself to listen.”

“Rare.” I sit up so I look right at her. “We were across the road. It happened fast. He only let me scream for a second the first time.”

“Oh Celestia,” she mumbles. “The first time.” I almost smack myself in the face. I’m supposed to be making her feel better, not worse.

For the first time, I realize that I’m probably not the only one that’s been reliving that night over and over. She’s been questioning herself, examining every little aspect of her memory.

Were those ponies? What time was it? Probably just some friends headed home after unwinding at the bar. No big deal. Who was it? Could she tell? A mare and a stallion? Were they fighting? Could she really hear the voices? Did she hear any of the words they said? Why were they wandering through that part of the market? Nopony lives there. And then the scream. My scream.

The whole thing plays through my mind from her perspective, and suddenly I get it. I wouldn’t be sleeping either. What if I missed something and somepony got hurt.

“How can you ever forgive me?” she asks her eyes turned away in shame.

Closing the gap between us is easy this time. Our barrels press together and I lift her face with my hoof, so she’s looking at me. “It wasn’t your fault, Rares.”

“I could have-”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know that it isn’t true.”

“I know that you saved me,” I say simply. “I know that if he’d been inside me a couple minutes longer I probably would’ve died. I know that you’re the only reason I haven’t tried to kill myself since it happened.”

“Rainbow-” she tries to chide me.

“It’s true, Rare,” I cut her off.

There’s another pause, then she finally looks at me again. “I wish it had been me, Rainbow,” she says softly.

I know that all of my other friends have been thinking that they wish this didn't happen to me, but Rare wishes she could’ve taken my place. They aren’t just words to her. She really means it. She would rather take the place of anypony than see somepony in pain. If there were a way to magic me out of this and put herself in it, then she would. She’d do it, and not tell me about it, and when I was all whole and pissed she’d just smile and say some shit about how “a lady does things for her friends.”

“You can’t think like that,” I say and touch our foreheads together.

“It’s true,” she echoes my words back to me.

“I know, but that doesn’t make it ok, Rare.”

We stay like that, just breathing, for a long time. Long enough that eventually it feels like we can move on to talk about something else, because there’s nothing left to say about that night.

“What happened in the kitchen?” I ask.

Something about the question immediately puts her back in performance mode. She pulls back and all of her careful control returns to her posture. I watch her blink all the feelings away. Before I can get mad at her for hiding from me again, she blinks a second time and I can see her literally forcing herself to let me see all of the hurt feelings she’s trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, darling,” she finally says with a weary sigh like she’s hoping that I’ll accept the bare minimum of an explanation and move on, which is exactly what I would normally do, but life definitely isn’t normal right now. “Fluttershy is just worried. That’s all.”

“Worried about what?”

She rolls her eyes at me and sits up with a little huff. The look on her face is kind of priceless. It says, “of all the times for you to suddenly take an interest in things Rainbow Dash, you chose now?”

“She offered to take care of you,” Rare explains simply. “I declined on your behalf.”

“K...” That’s obviously not the whole story.

Rarity sighs and rolls her eyes again. “She pointed out that having you stay here might play into the story Big Macintosh’s attorney is trying to tell. That it may seem rather convenient that after what happened you apparently moved in with me.

“She also felt the need to point out that I’m not a terribly skilled caretaker, and that she may be better suited to providing you the care you need to recover as quickly as possible.”

“She had no right-” If I could fly out the window, and go crashing into Fluttershy’s house right now I would.

“She was only trying to help, Rainbow. I don’t believe she intended any of her words as an insult, and she made some rather valid points.”

“Like what?”

“That bit about the attorney, although I don’t care about that. The facts are what they are regardless of where you choose to convalesce.

“She also mentioned her concern that you and I are becoming too close. She’s worried that we’re developing some unhealthy codependency or some such thing. She and Twilight have obviously had some extensive conversations on the matter.”

“Do you think they have a point?” I ask even though I’m not totally sure I really want to know. Rares is how I’m coping. She’s how I keep breathing. What am I going to do if she tells me that she thinks all of that is unhealthy?

“I don’t know, Dashie,” she says carefully. “I’m sure it’s a valid concern, but it’s one I’ve been trying to keep in mind through all of this.”

“You have?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“And I think this whole problem isn’t even three days into its maturity. I think you and I are both traumatized and we’re doing the best we can. If you believe that you would recover better with Fluttershy, then, of course, I will support that decision. Although, I must admit I’d rather you stayed here with me.”

There's obviously a lot more she isn't saying, but I’ve heard enough. I pull her into a hug. She hugs me back, snuggling down into my neck. “I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her. “And I’m going to tell Shy where she and Twilight can put their opinions next time I see her.”

“She was only trying to help, Dash,” she says into my chest.

“I don’t care,” I say with only a little of the frustration I’m actually feeling. “Those two can either figure out how to calm down and be my friends or they can leave me the fuck alone. I’ve got enough to deal with without holding their hooves too.”

“They are being our friends, darling. The best way they know how.”

“Well then, I’ll tell them that I need them to figure out how to do it better.”

The silence is heavy. I know she’s right. I know they’re just trying to help, but I also know that if they asked me how they could help I’d tell them to back off.

There’s a knock at the window that startles both of us. It’s Pinkie. “Hey everypony,” she says and she sounds mostly normal with just the tiniest tint of worry in her voice. “Just wanted to stop by to check on you two. Do you need anything?”

My stomach picks that exact second to rumble. “I’d kill for a hay burger and fries,” I say.

“Silly Dashie.” She shakes her head. “You just need to say please. No murder required.”

“Hey, Pinkie Pie?”

“Yes, Dashie?”

“Will you please bring me a hay burger, fries, and strawberry shake?”

“Okie dokie lokie, Dashie. Do you want anything, Rarity?”

“An orange cream shake and a strawberry salad, please. Thank you, Pinkie Pie. Let me get you-”

“No problem-o. I’ll be back in a flash,” Pinkie blurts out before Rarity can finish offering to pay for our food. Then Pinkie’s gone and I can’t stop the smile on my face.

We get up. Rarity brushes her mane and resets the spell on her coat. I stretch. “Remind me to take some painkillers after we eat,” I say.

We go back downstairs. Pinkie’s knocking at the kitchen door when we get to the bottom. She’s got our food and a fresh Sugarcube Corner box with her. “You know, you aren’t doing anything to help me keep my figure, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity says. She’s mostly joking.

“But I am helping you keep your sanity, by ensuring you maintain proper sugar to stress ratios.”

“I’d say we need several more of these boxes to do that,” I chime in and we all laugh a little. Pinkie looks like she’s about to take off, but Rarity tells her that she’s welcome to stay and Pinks sits down.

“Not to be a terrible hostess, but I think I’ll take this into the workroom and finish up a few things if that’s alright with you girls?” Rare says. Pinkie springs back up and hugs her real quick. Rarity hugs back. It’s always weird, but awesome, to realize that my friends are friends with each other too. I almost never see Pinkie and Rarity hang out, but they’re obviously just as good of friends with each other as they are with me, which is awesome.

I’m about to tell Rarity that she really should sit down and eat, but then I remember that Rarity isn’t sore. She doesn’t have any sprains or broken bones. She’s just exhausted. “You sure you can work?” I ask.

“It’s nothing too taxing,” she assures me. “I should be fine.”

“K.” She nuzzles me as she leaves with her salad and shake levitating in front of her.

My burger tastes awesome, but I can’t finish it. The same goes for the fries. All of this sitting around doing nothing means that I don’t need nearly as much food as I’m used to.

Pinkie cleans the kitchen while I eat. It’s good for her to have something to do, and shows all the habits she’s picked up working at a bakery. She pulls the oven out and sweeps behind it. She takes out the trash. She opens the fridge for no apparent reason, then shuts it again.

“Pinks, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Applejack asked me to make a list of things you two might need.”

“She still at the station?”

“No,” Pinkie stops nosing through one of Rarity’s cabinets to look at me really quick. “She finished just a bit after we left. She’s at the farm now. She cried when she got home and saw everypony helping with planting.”

Applejack cried? Yet another reminder of exactly how messed up my life is right now. “Did she say how it went?”

“No. She said she doesn’t want to talk about it. Typical AJ.” Pinkie goes back to rummaging through cabinets. She’s probably checking to see if we have all of the ingredients for both mine and Rarity’s favorite cupcakes.

“If you see her later, will you ask her to come over? I just want to make sure she’s ok.”

Applejack is the Element of Honesty, but she’s a farm pony to the core. When she talks about feelings, she says what she means; but she’d really rather not talk about feelings if she can avoid it. She’s kind of my go-to pony for talking about feelings and stuff, because the conversations are always short and easy to understand. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to talk to her like that about all of this, but I want her to know that I’ve still got her back.

“Sure, Dashie.” She’s scrubbing the inside of Rarity’s oven now. It doesn’t really look very dirty in there. I wonder when the last time Rarity actually used the oven was.

“Hey Pinkie?”

“Yeah, Dashie.”

“How are you doing?”

She stops cleaning, pulls her head out of the oven, and looks at me. It’s easy to miss if you don’t really know her- Pinks puts a big ol’ smile on top of all of her feelings- but she’s messed up and trying not to show it.

“Come here, buddy,” I say holding my hooves open for a hug.

She walks over to me but doesn’t hug me. “It’s ok, Dashie,” she says with a smile. “I know you don’t really like hugs right now.”

“I like hugs from my best friend, now hug me dammit. Just be careful about it.”

Pinkie gives awesome hugs. She has the most practice of anypony I know.

“I’m sorry, Dashie,” she whispers.

I’m not one hundred percent sure what she’s sorry for. Is she sorry for what happened to me? Is she sorry for being messed up about it? Is she sorry for something she said to the investigator ponies? Is she sorry that things are messed up with Twilight and Fluttershy? Or, is she just sorry for all of that? I just squeeze her and say, “It’s ok, Pinkie.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks pulling away.

“Not really. Do you?”

“Kinda. Do you really think they’ll take Rarity away?”

“I don’t know. I think it’d be really messed up if they did.”

Pinkie nods. “Dashie?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about the feelings?” She glances toward the workroom.

She makes it sound like she thinks there’s something going on between me and Rarity, but she doesn’t sound worried about it or anything. “No,” I answer. “There’s nothing to talk about. Not really. Rare is just helping me out.”

“Okie dokie lokie,” she says quietly. Then, after a long pause, she says, “She needs to sleep.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I just don’t know how to make her do it. I don’t know how to make her feel safe.”

“Maybe she’ll feel safe, when she feels like you feel safe?”

“She’s the only thing that makes me feel safe.”

“Rarity isn’t a thing, Dashie.” She says, quickly reminding me that Rarity isn’t some security blanket I can just wrap myself in forever. She’s a pony, and she’s taking care of me, and she needs to be taken care of too.

“I know. I’m trying. I’ll try harder.”

“I don’t think you need to try harder,” Pinkie says thoughtfully. “She just needs to know that all the things she’s doing to help you feel safe are working.”

That’s a hard one to wrap my brain around. I’ve always been the pony that makes other ponies feel safe. I’m the brave one, the awesome one; but not this time. This time, Rarity is the awesome one. She’s the one holding everything together with just her hooves.

“How do I do that, Pinkie?”

“You just tell her,” Pinkie answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Rarity likes knowing she’s doing a good job.”

“What if she doesn’t believe me?”

“Then you tell her again, silly.”

Pinkie stays for a few more minutes, then decides she should go check on Applejack. As she’s leaving she tells me that Twilight got a letter from the Princess saying she and Luna would be here in the morning.

I get up and go check on Rarity. She’s humming to herself again. It’s the lullaby I sang to her upstairs. She’s getting parts of it wrong, but figuring it out pretty good. It felt good to take a little break from each other, but it feels even better to be back in the same room. I’m thinking about sitting down, but I want something to do. I realize there are a few letters I could write, so I go grab some paper and a pen off her desk. I almost grab a pencil, but I’m guessing those are fancy drawing, fashion, uppity, write in solid glittering gold pencils. I also grab a book to use as a desk.

The fainting couch in the workroom is my favorite. I think I’ve tried them all out now. I think this one gets used the most. Probably because of all the dramatic fits Rares has over designs that “simply won’t do!”

I spread my stuff out and start a letter to Spitfire. I don’t know what the procedure is, but I know if I just don’t report for practice or training then my flank is gonna get kicked.

Hey Spitz,
Something happened, and I don’t really know how to deal with it so here it goes. I got attacked. Got beat up pretty bad. It happened Wednesday night after work. I went to the doctor, and they said I’m grounded for at least a month. My wings have more holes than feathers. I know somewhere in the manual it tells me what to do now, but my manual is at my house and I can’t get home. I’m staying with a friend for now. So, I’m hoping you can help me out and tell whoever needs to know, so they can send me whatever paperwork they need to so they can let me go, and bring somepony up off the reserve list.

Thanks,
Crash

That sucked to write, but at least it’s done. Next one is to Thunderlane. He isn’t my boss, but he can tell the ponies in Cloudsdale that need to know. I feel kinda bad for not taking care of this earlier, but I really didn’t think about it.

Thunderlane,
If you haven’t heard already, I got messed up pretty bad after the bar on Wednesday. Doc says I’m grounded for a while. Tell whoever needs to know, so they can reassign my stuff. I should be ok for ground duty in about a week. I’ll let you know when I find out for sure.

Thanks,
RD

I seal the letters and look up to see what Rares is doing. That pony works fast. When I came in here, I had no idea what she was doing. She was bent over something at her desk. Now, I guess she was cutting out the pieces that she’s been putting on that fake pony thing. It’s going to be a pretty cool dress when it’s done.

“That could be about twenty percent cooler,” I say trying not to smile.

“Yes, well- not everypony is up to that standard, darling. Very few have the- oh what is the word?”

“Awesomeness?”

“Hmmm. No.”

“Radicalness?”

“Not exactly.”

“Coolness?”

“It’s more….”

“Too cool for their own good-ness?”

“Ah! Yes, precisely.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re sooooo funny, Marshmallow.”

“Wherever did you come up with that nickname?”

“I don’t know. ‘One mustn’t fight inspiration, darling. It comes when it comes!’” That gets me a glare over the top of her glasses. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m not entirely sure it matters if I like it or not, does it?”

“Not really.”

“C’est la vie.”

“Gesundheit.”

Chapter 14: Friday- The Meadow

Rarity helps me get a drink and opens the bag of chips. She gives me one then pops one in her mouth. I raise an eyebrow at her, because it’s still really weird to try and imagine Rarity eating chips, even though I just saw her do it. She just rolls her eyes at me and gives me another one. We split the whole bag one chip at a time, so no crumbs get on her bed.

There’s really no need to talk, which is nice. It’s dark outside, but not super late. I don’t want to go to sleep. I feel restless. We’ve been in this house all day, which isn’t bad. I definitely didn’t want to be out dealing with everypony staring at me. I’m just not used to being inside so much.

I have an idea. It kinda freaks me out, but if Rare comes with me, then I think I’ll be ok.

“Hey Rare?”

“Hmmm?”

“Wanna go for a walk?”

Her eyes get HUGE, like Pinkie Pie huge. It’s so funny to see her have an unfiltered reaction that I automatically laugh, which sucks some of the chip in my mouth up into my nose, which hurts but makes me laugh even harder. It takes me a full minute to get the laughing under control, and she just gives me a look that’s half worried stare/half glare the whole time. My ribs ache when I finally stop laughing, but in a good way.

“Are you quite finished?” she asks as she helps me get another drink.

I almost snort again, just because it would be funny to keep right on laughing, but it wouldn’t be worth the pain in my chest this time. So, instead, I say with only a little smirk, “Yeah, Marshmallow. I’m all good now.”

“Wonderful,” she chirps. Then she looks anxiously out the window. “It’s getting rather late.” She sounds nervous. “Are you certain you’re feeling well enough for an outing?”

“That’s kinda the point,” I start to fidget with my forehooves a little. “I’m hoping nopony will be out. I really don’t want to deal with being seen or having to talk to anypony.”

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” she asks again. She’s being careful not to say what she actually means, which is that she’s worried I’m going to freak out because I don’t feel safe or something. All of the humor from just as second ago is gone now. She’s asking a serious question that deserves a serious answer.

“If I’m not, you’ll bring me home, right?” I say a little sheepishly. It’s really not a Rainbow Dash kind of thing to say. It sounds way too wimpy and soft coming out of my mouth, but it also feels honest and right. I’m not my usual, awesome self right now. I need her to come with me if I go outside, because she’s right that I might freak out. I might get out there in the dark and feel like Mac is attacking me all over again, and if that happens then I’m going to need my unicorn to snap me out of it and make sure nopony sees me.

“Naturally,” she says easily. She sounds half like she’s trying to be my knight in shining armor and half like it’s no big deal to her. It’s funny and awesome.

“Then, yeah. I’m good.”

She takes a second to think, then sighs a little. “I’ll need a few minutes to get ready. Is that alright?”

“Sure. Take your time.”

“Would you like to read in the meantime?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” I get the tingles all over, and she gently flips me onto my stomach, then floats the book over. I almost ask her to do it again, because it was kind of fun, but I don’t. I just say, “Thanks.”

“Of course, darling.” She puts the plate with the cookies by me, then goes into the bathroom. She hums while she does whatever she’s doing. I just listen to the humming instead of reading, because it helps my brain go quiet. If Rare is humming, then that means she really isn’t mad at me anymore and that is awesome.

I close my eyes and feel the last little tingles of magic leave my wings. She did some sort of time release on them. I give a little flap. I haven’t really tried anything like that since it happened. It sucks and it hurts, but it also feels good and normal to actually move my wings a little. They’re healing. If I could get in the air, they’d probably be mostly better in a week, at least the bones would.

Regrowing feathers takes forever, and I wasn’t kidding when I told Rares that it itches like crazy. One of the hardest parts of growing new feathers is not preening them out because they itch so bad. Sometimes, it’s better to just wrap the wing for a few weeks, let the feathers grow, and then go from there. Maybe I’ll talk to Rarity about helping me wrap my wings for the next few days.

“Ready?” She asks, and it startles me a little. Her mane looks like normal. She probably magicked it again.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” I want to hop off the bed, but even having my muscles start to tense for a move like that hurts. So, I just move slow and careful. Now that I think about it, I’m kinda surprised I haven’t hurt myself more forgetting that I can’t move at my normal speed. I hate doing things slowly. Slow is stupid- except for when everything hurts, then slow is safe and less painful.

When we get to the kitchen, Rare tosses a blanket over her back. “Do you want anything?” she asks.

“Naw.” It’s a cool night, but not bad. Plus, because being a pegasus is awesome, I don’t feel the cold the same way other ponies do because pegasi are designed for high altitudes. Earth ponies are usually the warmest. They have the thickest coats and just generally run a little hotter. Pegasi feel cold to other ponies, and unicorns are somewhere in the middle. It’s cool, because when I touch or hug other ponies they always feel warm. I like that.

It’s probably the thought of touching other ponies that starts it. One second I’m fine, walking across the kitchen to the door, but now I’m frozen. My legs start to buckle, because of his weight pressing down on my back. It’s like I’m trapped in an oven set to broil. The burning heat of his body is pressing down on me from everywhere, burning me and paralyzing me with fear and pain all at the same time. The hot branding irons of his hooves sear and sizzle around my cutie marks, and I clearly remember that even his hooves felt weirdly hot when they slammed down on me and then lifted me up only to bring me back down on the worst heat of all. The one he shoved inside me.

All of this is happening, but not happening at the same time. I can’t see where I am, but I know I’m not in the street. I can feel the slamming, and pulling, and burning everywhere; but the only part of me that’s moving is my ear, which twitches a little trying to beat away his hot breath. I can hear him. The grunts and low whinnies he made as he rut me. The venom in his voice as he hissed at me. But at the same time, there’s a loud ringing kind of white noise in my ears too. The kind that comes from the sudden absence of sound.

Then there’s a spot on my head that somehow manages to feel cool and warm at the same time. It isn’t burning and painful like all the places he touched me, but it doesn’t make me feel ashamed and wish I was dead either. It feels safe, like home. I focus on that spot. I focus on the hope I feel knowing that spot exists and that there’s somepony on the other side of that spot waiting for me. I want my whole body to feel just like that one spot.

It starts with her smell. The stench of the bar, and the empty street, and stale stallion musk fades and is replaced with the clean, flowery scent of Rarity. The sounds of the attack lower into the background and her voice fills my ears instead. “Come back to me, Rainbow. It’s alright, darling. You are safe. Come back to me. Oh, please come back.”

I open my eyes, and I realize that I don’t remember closing them. Rarity is so close. Her eyes are closed, and she keeps muttering all of those gentle coaxings to try and get me to snap out of whatever it was that just took me over.

I’ve always thought Rare was pretty, because she is. It’s kinda like saying the Wonderbolts are awesome. It’s just fact. This second though, she’s gorgeous. She looks like home, and I know I’m going to be ok. So, I lean into that place where our heads touch a little harder. That’s all it takes to let her know that I’m back.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

“Yeah. Flashback.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You already did it.” I pull back and quickly kiss her forehead. “Thanks.”

She smiles and nuzzles me a little before taking a step back. I miss her closeness the second she pulls away, but I don’t try and close the distance. That would be weird, and I don’t think I could explain why I want her close if she asked me.

“Does a little venture outside still sound appealing?” she asks after giving me another minute to get myself together. Her tone is cautious and carefully bright. She isn’t trying to hide the fact that she’s worried, but she’s also giving me a chance to at least pretend to be normal, even though everything is messed up.

Going outside actually sounds even better than it did before. The breeze coming in from the open door is calling to me. I want to be outside in the open air the same way I wanted to be in a scalding hot shower right after it happened. It’s like the wind and the sky can blow away some the mark Mac left on me, so I don’t have to keep feeling like I’m covered in his grime all the time. “Yeah.” I nod. “Let’s go.”

We step outside, and she locks the door. I think she’s going to lead me on a walk through town since it’s late enough that there probably won’t be very many ponies out and about, but she turns the other way toward a little path into the woods that I’ve seen from the air but never walked on.

“Where we going?” I ask. I can’t decide if I’m relieved that we won’t be walking around town, or weirded out that I’d rather be walking through the woods in the dark than around ponies right now.

“There’s a lovely little meadow this way that very few ponies seem to know about,” she answers easily. “It isn’t quite as large as the one near Fluttershy’s cottage, but it is perfectly pleasant.”

We walk with our sides pressed together, just like when we walked to Town Hall or when we walked home from the hospital. We don’t talk, which is good because I’m busy thinking.

Ponyville is my turf. I know every inch of it, but I can’t remember the meadow she’s talking about, and it drives me nuts. I don’t even notice the flowers or whatever else we walk by, because I’m trying to fill in the blank space on the map in my head. It’s actually really good for me, because it takes all of my concentration, which means there isn’t space in my head to freak out about my freak out in the kitchen or to dwell on all of the memories that came with it.

We’ve been walking for about ten minutes, when I finally figure out my mental map. The meadow has really old trees all around it, and it kinda dips in the middle so when it rains there’s a giant puddle. Ducks and stuff use it for a bath sometimes. It should be about a fifteen minute walk from Rarity’s.

“Here we are,” Rare says right on cue.

She’s right. It’s nice. It isn’t huge, but the trees open up and I can see the sky. There are a few clouds drifting lazily around. They are some of my favorites, the listless ones that really don’t have a purpose except giving ponies something to look at. Luna’s stars twinkle and colors in the sky kind of ripple. It’s not her best work, but it’s not bad. Looking up at it, the sky feels huge and empty, but it makes me feel a little claustrophobic at the same time. The sky that was never more than a flap away, but that might as well be a different planet right now. Instead of being my place to escape, it’s a lid shut tightly on top of me, keeping me on the ground whether I like it or not.

I should look away, but I can’t. Part of me wants to scream at the sky for holding me down the same way Mac did, and part of me wants to collapse into the dirt and cry because I just want to go home. Every part of me is singing, screaming, pleading to be up there where I belong. I just can’t make it happen.

“How are your wings feeling?” she asks.

I’m so distracted that I almost miss the fact that she sounds way too casual. It’s a loaded question, but I can’t figure out what she could really be getting at. I fluff my feathers a little. It hurts but doesn’t make me want to bawl my eyes out.

“Not bad. Why?” I manage to keep my voice neutral, so she doesn’t pick up on all the anger and stuff swirling around inside me.

“I’ve had an idea if you’d like to try it.” Again, her tone is too careful, too casual. It’s the same voice she uses when she’s designed something ridiculous for me that I’ll never actually wear, but she’s sly getting me to try on so I can see that there’s no denying how awesome it is.

“What is it?” I ask suspiciously. I really don’t trust that glint in her eye, even though I know that it usually means she’s about to be really pleased with herself, which usually means she’s done something awesome that I’m totally not going to admit that I think is awesome. There’s just a huge disconnect between the time and place when she usually uses that tone of voice and where we are right now.

“What do you think of trying to go for a little flight?” She glances up at the sky then looks back at me.

She's one hundred percent serious, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. She probably has no way of knowing that I really can’t fly right now. I know she isn’t trying to hurt my feelings, but I feel like she just backhoofed me across the face.

I try to force the words out despite feeling like there’s a pit in my stomach the size of Cloudsdale. “I- I- can’t, Rare,” I stammer. It’s only one tear that rolls down my face, but that’s all it takes. She sees it and instantly closes the gap between us to wipe it away.

“Oh my darling, that was unforgivable,” she says, her voice heavy with an apology. Then she leans our heads together again. “That was a horribly inappropriate time to try and be coy. I’m so sorry. Please, may I try again?”

I really don’t want to have that slapped feeling again, but Rare isn’t an idiot. I trust that she won’t make the same mistake twice. Plus, I really want to know what she’s talking about. “K,” I sniff.

She takes a deep breath, pulls back, and stares at the ground. “I meant to offer to assist you,” she says quietly. “You seem to enjoy being held in the air so much. I thought you might like to try it again on a broader scale. I’m afraid I’ve ruined the idea altogether, however. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Can you do that?” I ask trying not sound to doubtful. Maybe I should have more faith in her magical awesomeness, after everything that’s happened, but it’s still not natural to think of her that way. She looks up into my eyes and nods confidently.

“I wouldn’t dare take you up very high, particularly on our first outing, but at the very least I can get you off the ground for some extended period of time.” She sounds likes she’s working through the idea like a dress design. Like she’s trying to decide exactly how she’s going to make her idea work.

I feel the smile on my face before I realize that I’ve made up my mind. “Ok, Marshmallow. Let’s do it.”

She literally lights up in front of me. It’s like somepony turned up the dimmer switch inside her coat. I follow her to the middle of the meadow. She spreads out the blanket and straightens it until it’s perfectly flat. Then she lays down in the middle and wraps herself in it.

“Would you like your wings out?” she asks cheerily.

I hesitate. Being in the air with my wings out sounds absolutely awesome, but the idea also makes me kinda nervous. If there’s wind or something I don’t know if I’ll be able to adjust and keep things from getting worse. Or, if my wings can even handle anything like that without something else breaking worse than it already is.

I toss my mane a little. No wind. She said she’d keep me close to the ground and these tall trees make for a good break.

“What day is it?” I ask.

“Friday,” she replies.

There isn’t supposed to be any major weather until Sunday unless they changed the schedule. There are a few clouds, but they’re just the randoms- nothing organized or intentional.

“Yeah.” I decide. “Wings out.” Slowly I start to stretch them. I feel the familiar tingle of the numbing thing, and shake my head at Rare. “I got this,” I say with a little strain in my voice. “You just keep me off the ground.”

It doesn’t take as long to stretch my wings out as I thought it would. Rares has been taking really good care of them. The main joints feel almost normal, but they weren’t really damaged, so that isn’t that weird. The weird thing is how heavy they feel. I’m missing a little more than a third of my feathers, but my wings feel like they got dipped in concrete. Still, it feels good to have them open in the air, and to be totally in control of them.

Rares watches while I do a few pre-flight checks. The feathers I have are well preened, and in perfect shape for flying. Even in the places where they’re angled to cover holes, Rarity kept them in a perfect plane. I wonder how she knew to do that. I won’t be able to adjust any of the individual layers without hurting a fractured bone, but I will be able to adjust the overall angle. So, as long as I’m not too far up, I should be able to to turn a fall into a gliding landing without causing any damage.

Rares is giving me a weird look. “What?” I ask.

She shakes her head and answers innocently, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Bullshit! What is it?” She looks happy like she’s teasing me about something and I don’t get it. It bugs me, and I stomp my hoof at her. “Don’t try and play innocent with me, Marshmallow. What is it?”

She laughs. It’s not the big laugh Applejack would laugh at me if she were here to see me stomping my hoof like a toddler, but it might as well be. “Oh darling,” she coos. “You’re just adorable. That’s all.”

I give her a look.

“Oh, don’t pout.” She waves a hoof at me. “It’s most unbecoming.”

I don’t change my expression.

She rolls her eyes and sighs. “I was simply enjoying watching you. Is that a crime?”

“If it was would you care?”

“Not in the least.” She turn up her nose at me. “As you know, I’ve recently turned to a life of crime and am finding it rather pleasant. So, I am naturally inclined to expand my repertoire. In crime or in fashion, one must be able to diversify.”

“Alright.” It takes me a full second to decide that it’s ok to laugh at her because the joke feels way too close to reality. “You ready, Miss Criminal Mastermind?”

It’s funny, because if Rarity actually decided to be a criminal mastermind, then Equestria would be in big trouble. She’d be one of those classy mob-boss types that everypony knows is up to no good, but that never actually gets caught doing something wrong. But, that’s just not something Rarity would ever do. It is so insane that Mac’s lawyer is so bent on trying to paint her like that. It will never work, because she’s just Rarity. Her reputation is everything.

She nods to my question. Her eyes close and horn lights. Everything is slow. She’s being very careful with me. The tingles creep up my body starting at my hooves. There’s a flexing and relaxing thing happening, like she’s testing her grip, trying to figure out how tightly to hold me. It feels a little bit like I’m wrapped in a rippling silk blanket or something, but it also feels like maybe the blanket is made of padded steel that’s been perfectly molded for me to fit. But, it also doesn’t feel like either of those things, because magic kind of feels like nothing. So, there’s this weird sensation of non-feeling, but at the same time, I can definitely recognize all of the tingly loops and swirls of her aura especially when it gets to my wings.

I’m trying to be patient, but the longer I have to wait the more anxious and the more excited I get. Without meaning to, I start shifting my weight back and forth on my hooves. Rare makes a little face, and I stop. Her face relaxes again, but once she’s up past my wings, she moves along a lot faster. She still doesn’t lift me up right away though. When the bubble of magic first completely closed around me, I felt claustrophobic, but only for a second because then it was like somepony opened a window. Suddenly, there was air moving around me. Not in a natural kind of way, but in a controlled way. Like a vent in a house angling the breeze in a specific direction.

Finally, Rare takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. “Thank you for your patience, Rainbow. Are we ready?”

I cock my head at her. “Duh.”

That earns me an eye roll and some mumbled response about how I’m brash and impossible. It breaks all the tension. If Rarity is relaxed and calm enough to be whining, then things are going to be just fine.

I start moving in a really weird way- rising straight up off the ground like a hot air balloon. It’s nothing like how take offs are supposed to feel, but this isn’t really a take off anyway, so it doesn’t freak me out too bad.

When I’m about ten feet up, she stops. There’s the tiniest breeze blowing the wrong way across my wings. Without thinking I turn to adjust. The turn is too smooth and too slow, but it works.

I look down at Rare to tell her how awesome that was, but she has her eyes closed. She doesn’t look like she’s having trouble keeping me up or anything, just focusing. I lean forward a little bit and feel myself dip six inches. I lean back and go back to where I was. Everything has just the tiniest delay, but I’m totally in control of where I go.

“This is awesome!” I say loud enough that she can hear but soft enough that probably thinks I’m just talking to myself.

As awesome as it is to be in the air, and it’s more awesome than doing a sonic rainboom while drinking cider, it’s also just freaking weird. The air itself doesn’t feel quite right. There’s movement, but I can’t call it a breeze. It’s still that weird vented feeling, but it’s better than nothing. Across my feathers, it’s like light and information spilling across my nerves. There’s a tingle that I know. It’s as familiar as breathing, but that has nothing to do with Rarity. It tells me I’m a pegasus, and I’m in the air where I’m supposed to be. I'm home. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling.

I have to resist the urge to flap. Flapping would be a very bad idea.

I try leaning to the left. Slowly, I turn in a circle, probably about twenty feet wide with Rarity in the center. I’m never more than ten feet up or ten feet away from her. I lean a little more and circle closer to her. Then I lean the other way and try to circle back out to the right. I feel the magic fighting me though, it’s not a tight maneuver and we don’t have the space for it- not with the ten by ten rule. So, I ease up and level out. When I’m not giving her directions with my movements, she just holds me still. I am in total control.

For ten minutes, I circle and slowly dive then climb. We manage a tight enough turn for me to change directions so that I can circle the other way.

When I look down, Rarity’s eyes are still closed. She looks peaceful. There’s just the faintest little smile on her lips. She doesn’t look tired, but I’m guessing she needs a break. So, I lean forward again and slowly circle down to land. She doesn’t let me go until all of my hooves are safely down.

When she opens her eyes, she looks tired but not in a bad way. She looks like I feel after a good workout. “How was that, darling?” she asks hopefully.

It takes a second for my brain to catch up to being on the ground. I was so focused on my technique, and figuring out what I could actually do, and how things felt that I didn’t really get to feel all of the awesomeness, but now it comes in one big rush. I want to tackle her, or do Twilight's stupid Yes! Yes! Yes! jumping up and down thing. But, I can’t do either of those. So, I just smile so big my face might break and say, “That was the most awesome thing ever!”

“Wonderful,” she squeals. “Would you like to try it again?”

After five more minutes, she taps out, because she’s getting tired and worried about dropping me, which is fine by me. I can already feel the difference in every part of me, especially my wings. I feel more like me than I have in days.

When I hit the ground, I barely even notice any of my aches and pains as I move to settle in the grass next to her. She lifts the blanket for me and I snuggle into the warmth.

“That was soooo cool, Rare!” I start rambling, and I can’t make myself stop. “It was just so awesome! How did you even do that? Was it like the apple and orange thing? Is that how you knew which way I wanted to go?”

I ask questions that I don’t really want answers to and tell her things about flying that she doesn’t care about. She doesn’t even try to say anything. She just listens to me go on and on about every single second.

At some point, she lays her head on top of my forelegs, and I rest mine on her neck. I keep talking though because I’m charged with adrenaline. It doesn’t matter that I was only ten feet up or that I didn’t do any of my best moves. I was in the sky. I was home. I tell her about my first memory of flying, and how awesome clouds are. Then I hear something. I look around but don’t see anything. Then I hear it again. It’s the daintiest little snore I’ve ever heard in my whole life. I look down and sure enough, she’s asleep.

After being awake for three full days and two full nights, she’s finally asleep- here in a meadow on the ground. Who is this pony? She’s yelled at me on trains in the middle of the night for messing with her beauty sleep. She told Applejack that she couldn’t help get a tree out of the library, because she’d get all icky.

But, she’s also the pony that hid in a mud puddle so that she could run a race for her sister. She took on a pony three times her size and saved my life. I’m a pegasus that can’t fly, and she just gave me the sky back. She’s a prissy pain in the flank of a pony, and I love her.

The realization hits me like a tsunami, crashing down on me for way too long and making it almost impossible for me to catch my breath. I don’t mean I love her as a friend. The squishy places of my heart are in love with her.

But... she’s… Rarity!

Rarity isn’t like me or Applejack. AJ and I have both always known that we might end up alone. I haven’t ever been in love before. I kinda thought it would never happen for me. I loved the Wonderbolts. I loved the sky. What pony could ever keep up with that, right?

AJ is married to that farm, and she’s straight as an arrow. It’ll be some stallion that turns her head enough to get her attention. She likes a good roll in the hay, but a relationship just isn’t something she wants to be bothered with.

Pinkie hangs out with lots of ponies. I think she’d like to settle down with one or two someday, but for now, she just hangs out with anypony or any couple of ponies that dig her. She won’t end up alone either, but she might be a part of a herd or something.

But Rarity, it’s just always been obvious that she’d do the marriage thing. The idea that Rarity might end up alone just doesn’t make any sense. Sure, she hasn’t had a lot of luck with dating or whatever, but she’s always out there looking- except for when she’s to busy working or saving Equestria. The point is that she's always wanted to have a special somepony. She wants the big day with the big dress and everypony crying in the audience about how beautiful everything looks and how bad the food is.

I only figured out that I don’t want to be alone forever a few months ago. Actually, I’ve always known I didn’t want to be alone. I hate being alone. What I figured out was that I wanted a special somepony. It was after a show, and I saw all the other Bolts checking in with their families in the crowd. My friends come to as many shows as they can, but it isn’t the same. The closest I ever got to that feeling was having Scoots at that first Ponyville show, and that was a fucking disaster.

I want a family. I want somepony waiting for me to get home at the end of the day.

Rares would be an awesome fanpony. She’d make weird dresses and hats that would bug other ponies in the stands because they’d be so big nopony could see around them. She’d cheer louder than anypony else, and then look around like she couldn’t figure out which of the ponies next to her made all the noise.

It’d be like when Sweetie Belle sings. Rares is always there, always the first one to start stomping her hooves and the last one to stop. It’s cool that even though their parents are never around Sweetie always has somepony to take care of her. Rarity didn’t have to do that; she’s like a single mom a lot of the time, and it actually looks really good on her. It’s like knowing that she helped Scootaloo when she busted up her wing, that’s just fucking awesome. Scoots doesn’t trust many ponies, so letting Rarity take care of her was a big deal.

When I first met her, Rares wouldn’t shut up about the one, but that first Gala changed that. It changed her. It was like that night hit her harder than the rest of us. She’d still go off like that sometimes about wanting to find her one perfect somepony, but it was different. The dream was kind of shattered or something. Instead, she started talking about respect and finding a partner she could share her life with, and stuff like that. I think some of it got to me, and that’s why I changed too.

I never thought it would be her though. She’s irritating. She’s prissy and almost always right. Even when she’s wrong, she finds a way to be right. It’s annoying. Plus, she’s so damn dramatic all the time. She’s so careful and controlled and all caught up in how things look.

Then again, she’ll dress me up in the weirdest stuff sometimes just to see if she can. Like that time before the parasprite invasion. How did she even get me in that wig thing? Now I know her well enough to see the little smirk in my memory and to recognize the rise in her voice. That day was a competition and she kicked my ass.

The more I think about it, the more it sucks. What the hell do my feelings think they are doing? I’m a fucking rape victim. My wounds aren’t even healed. She’s been awesome and done everything I’ve asked. How do I repay her? By making shit fucking weird. She deserves better than me, even better than the me I was before Mac ruined me. But, now I’m just no good for anypony and I don’t know if I ever will be again.

It won’t always be like this. She won’t be holding me up forever. What’s going to happen in a week when I go back to work? Or in a month when I take my first flight on my own? What’s going to happen when some handsome stallion or some cute mare asks her if she has a marefriend, and she says no but she is completely dedicated to helping a dear friend recover from a horrible trauma, so she doesn’t have time to date?

I won’t get in her way. I know it will never be me. I want her to be happy. I want her to find that partner and be a mom. Element of Loyalty, right? I totally got this. I’m gonna love the shit out of that prissy pony, and she’s never gonna even know; because making her carry that around would be a really shitty thing to do.

My buzz from getting off the ground is gone. The crickets are chirping. The breeze picked up just a little and is moving through my mane. The only part of me that really hurts right now is my rump, and even that isn’t too bad. I got to soar ten feet off the ground today. Rarity is finally asleep, and I’m snuggled up next to her. She doesn’t know that things have gone all weird inside me, and I’m not going to tell her. For now, I can just snuggle her back and enjoy the good stuff. She never needs to know that all the good stuff is about her.

“Goodnight, Marshmallow,” I whisper. Then I rest my head on her back and fall asleep to the rhythm of her breathing beneath me.

Sometime in the night, she wakes me up and whispers that she’s taking me home. I tell her to shut up and go back to sleep. I fall back to sleep wrapped in a blanket wrapped in Rarity’s aura.

I have a dream about her.

We’re at a Wonderbolts team thing. Everypony is there with their families. I’m standing by the snack table, and I hear her before I see her. She's telling somepony to stop running. I turn and see a little pair of tiny wings buzzing toward me attached to a foal that’s hovering just a couple inches off the clouds. It’s the proudest moment of my whole damn life.

“Mom! Look!”

“Good job, squirt!”

My kid has an awesome rainbow mane; it’s a few shades darker than mine though. It looks crazy cool next to her bright blue-white coat. She’s clean, and she smells good, and she’s so happy to see me. I toss her up on my back when she gets to me, and she wraps her tiny little forelegs around my neck.

“Mama said I could show you when we got here,” she practically sings in my ear.

“Where is your mama?”

“Right here. Oh, I’ll never get used to this cloud walking business!” Rarity is wearing a huge sun hat, and saddlebags that say Team Dash, and have a really cool design of both our cutie marks. Behind Rarity are Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. They’re shoving each other and joking about which one of them would hit the ground first if they fell.

“Hey Crash!” Soarin’ yells from somewhere. “Your crew all here?”

“Yeah!”

“Finally! Let’s eat!”

Then, we’re in bed and my head is on her chest. She’s reading by horn light. I snuggle in closer. “You’re supposed to be asleep,” I tell her and take a swipe at her book.

“And you are supposed to be working on finding some manners,” she retorts. I wrap a foreleg around her and pull her down, so she isn’t sitting up anymore. Then I nuzzle her shoulder ‘til she turns her back to me, and I slide her back, so there’s no space between us. I hear her giggle at me. “Really, Rainbow Dash?”

“Shut up, Marshmallow,” I say into her ear. “And turn out the light.”

I wake up because one of my legs is going numb for some reason. I realize that I’m not totally sure if that last part of my dream was really a dream. Rare doesn’t seem bugged though. I think she might actually be sleeping, so I’m calling it cool for now.

Chapter 15: Saturday- Waking Up

I’m not quite asleep when it happens, but I’m awake enough to know that I’m not dreaming. I know where I am. I even know why it’s happening. I just can’t make it stop.

My heart races, thudding against my chest like I’ve been sprinting for hours. My wings are twitching, painfully begging for the sky at the same time every muscle and bone is screaming at me that there is no way I’m getting off the ground right now. Every single nerve in my body is saying that I need to fly away, but I can’t because it hurts.

I can’t breathe. I’m twisted up in a blanket that feels like a solid metal snake coiling around me and trying to squeeze to death. The more I try to twist away, the more tangled I get.

I need to get out of here.

A sound comes from across the darkness. It’s a beautiful sound. In my panic, I only know that the sound means safety and that it came from the bathroom. I manage to rip myself from the blanket and flap my wings. I only flap once, but I know I’m going to pay for it. I feel the fresh crack of bones that were trying to heal, but I don’t care. The second it takes me to cross the room is too long.

Rarity was doing her hair. She notices me rocketing toward her just in time to put the brush down and try to brace herself. I crash into her harder than I mean to, and we slam back into something that quickly collapses after the impact.

I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s like I’m searching for something right in front of me that I can’t see. I’m just trying to find my safe place. Rare is saying something. I know she’s trying to talk to me, but I can’t hear her. I have to find what I’m looking for, but I don’t know what it is. I know she can help me, but I don’t know how. She can help me get away, but I don’t know how to let her, so I keep trying to find whatever it is I’m looking for and mumbling any nonsense I can manage to get out of my mouth.

Somehow, she understands. Her hooves grab my head and pull me forward. The gentle force freaks me out at first, but then there’s that spot on my head. The second I feel that familiar pressure it’s like I can suddenly take a deep, painful breath.

She lets go, and I kind of collapse on top of her. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I’m being poked in the ribs by wood of some sort, and that there’s an awful lot of sweet smells going on. I think we broke a shelf or something. I don’t have the brain capacity to figure out which one though. The only thing I think about is that place on my head.

“I’m here, Rainbow,” Rarity whispers as she runs a hoof through my mane. “I’m right here.”

I think maybe I screamed her name when I flapped my wings before. I’ve definitely been mumbling it for the past few seconds without realizing it.

“Breathe with me, Rainbow,” she says in that calm, controlled, soothing voice. “Just breathe with me.”

The spot on my head rises and falls a little. I force myself to follow and breath in time with her rhythm.

“Well done, darling.” Her voice is a little louder and more confident now. “Now, take your time and come back to me. I’m right here.”

Rarity keeps stroking my mane as the panic slowly melts away. We’re in a pile of bottles and broken wood. I slammed her into the thing in the corner where she keeps all her products.

“Sorry, Rare,” I finally manage to mumble.

“It’s alright,” she says, nuzzling me between the ears. “It won’t take but a moment to fix.”

The room starts getting bigger and brighter as it comes back into focus.

“You’re going to have new bruises now, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m afraid I will.” She sighs with just a tiny bit of her normal dram. “This dreadful pelt of mine doesn’t hide a thing. Not to worry, I’ve become most adept at keeping minor discolorations to myself.”

“Still sucks. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for Rainbow. These things do happen from time to time.” She shifts her head to nuzzle me again, then rests her head back in the same, comforting spot. “Are you alright?” She doesn’t sound quite as controlled this time. I can actually hear that she’s worried now.

“Yeah.” I try to burrow into that spot on my head a little more. “I got stuck between being asleep and being awake.” I can’t find the words to explain exactly what happened, so I don’t try and just say lamely, “It freaked me out.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she answers. “You were sleeping so soundly. I thought I’d just get ready while you rested a bit.”

That’s what woke me up. She was humming, and I wanted to listen.

“It’s cool, Rares.” I take a deep breath and try to force my still racing heart to settle. We stay like that for a while, just breathing together while she absently runs a hoof through my mane and waits for me to get myself together.

When everything is calm, and the silence is starting to turn from peaceful to weird, she says, “Would you like to go back to bed for a little while? It’s still very early.”

“Come with me?” I ask pulling back to look pathetically at her face. I don’t really mean to look pathetic. I’m just sure I do. Asking her to be my security blanket is so not cool, but I’ve pretty much given up on trying to be cool for the time being.

“Of course.” She nuzzles me then helps me up. A quick flash of her magic instantly fixes all the shit I just broke. Some part of my brain wonders if that was impressive or if anypony could have done it. I’m guessing fixing the shelf, and all of those little bottles, and putting everything back where it belonged in just a second was probably pretty impressive. It didn’t look like a big deal though, so I really have no idea.

Then she follows me out of the bathroom and back to the bed. We curl around each other, so our heads rest on each other’s backs. It’s nice. We’re close enough that I feel all of the comfort, but from this angle, I don’t have to look at her face and feel the weight of her worry.

“Did you sleep?” I ask.

“For a few hours,” she says trying to sound like a few hours is all she ever needs.

“What happened?”

“I woke up in the dirt,” she pouts.

It just sounds like such a Rarity thing to say that I have to laugh. “That’s what happens when you fall asleep outside, Marshmallow.”

“False,” she snaps with just a little sarcasm. “It’s what happens when somepony steals the blanket all for themselves.”

“Sorry,” I say, and I honestly mean it. She isn’t the first pony to tell me that I’m a blanket hog, but it’s not like I can help it.

“It’s alright.” She nuzzles me. “You looked rather adorable, wrapped up like a little foal. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I had a good dream,” I answer without thinking.

“Oh?” She perks up curiously. “Care to share?”

“Nope.” I shake my head and try to fill my voice with my usual coolness. “I’m good.”

She shrugs. “If you say so.” It’s one of those double-sided Rarity responses. She’s obviously curious, but she’s going to act like not knowing doesn’t bother her at all, which is fine by me. It takes a minute, and she glances at me sideways a couple of times before she gives up on hoping that I’ll open up about the dream.

“Did you hurt yourself?” she finally asks in a completely different, concerned tone.

“Maybe...” I close my eyes and do a quick inventory. “Not too bad though. I just bought myself an extra couple days of ground time is all.”

“Perhaps we ought to wrap your wings while you sleep?” she suggests.

“Yeah, I was going to ask you to do that anyway. All the new feathers are going to drive me nuts.”

“Would you like to take care of that now?”

“Might as well.”

We say the words, but we don’t move. I love preening, and Rare is good at it, but it’s getting annoying. It’s like running. I love running just to run, but when it’s something I have to do, then I start to hate it. It’s irritating to have something I like so much turning into something that I feel like avoiding.

It’s also irritating that I fell asleep actually feeling ok about life- sad about all my stupid feelings, but ok with life otherwise- and woke up not knowing my own fucking name. Rare slept. That should be an awesome thing, but it feels like there’s no way she slept long enough and... it feels like it’s my fault. Plus, I can’t help but I wonder if she got up early because I freaked her out being all clingy in the middle of the night.

“What’s wrong, Rainbow?”

“Nothing,” I answer automatically and try to relax my face, so whatever feelings she was able to pick up on aren’t showing anymore.

Her body goes stiff. “Please don’t lie to me,” she says crisply. “If you prefer not to discuss it, then that’s fine. Please just don’t ask me to ignore my instincts when I know something is bothering you.”

I take a deep breath. Of course, she picked up on my mood. Of course, she called me out for trying to hide stuff from her. Maybe she wouldn’t have before, but I basically got on her case for doing the same thing yesterday. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“Apology accepted.” She nuzzles my neck a little, and I feel her relax. All the tension from a minute ago totally disappears, so I relax too.

“Everything is just all fucked up,” I say because I know that I really should talk about some of the stuff. And, she’s the pony I want to talk to about most of it. I don’t really want to deal with being told not to swear or whatever, but maybe it will be worth it to get some of the messy feeling stuff out of me.

She sighs wearily and seems to lean on me a little more. “That is certainly an understatement. Are there specific items in the fuckery that are bothering you?”

I smile and roll my eyes. Fuckery. How did Rares turn fuck into a prissy word? It doesn’t even sound like a curse word when she says it, which is good because it sounds weird when she swears. Part of me wants to laugh, but the rest of me feels too heavy. I started talking and now I feel like I can’t shut up.

“I can’t make it stop, Rare.” My eyes start to burn in frustration, and my voice cracks a little. “Even when I know what’s going on.

“I knew I was freaking out this morning. I knew where I was and what was happening, but I went crashing into shit anyway. It’s like, I get just a second of feeling like me, and then it’s happening all over again. I hate what’s happening to me, but I feel bad for Mac. It feels like that with everything.

“I don’t know how to feel like this. I’m not you. I don’t know how to handle of this stuff and it’s confusing, which just makes me feel that much more messed up, you know?”

I keep waiting for her to interrupt, or to say something shallow and cliche that’s supposed to make me feel better but doesn’t. She doesn’t do that. She just listens.

“I’m not a complicated pony,” I ramble on. “I feel my feelings, or I don’t, and I move on. I can’t do that with this. It won’t go away, and it keeps coming back when I’m not ready. It’s like a freaking quarray eel waiting to snap at me when I’m not looking.”

I didn’t mean to admit all of that to her. In the back of my mind, part of me is laughing at myself for being such a pansy-cake, but that part gets totally drowned out by the rest of me that feels grateful that I have somepony to lay with me and listen to the things I can’t say to anypony else.

“It won’t always be like this, Dashie,” she says gently after a few minutes of silence.

“How do you know?” I meant to snap-back at her, but my question comes out sounding like a foal asked it.

She lifts her head and starts stroking my mane absentmindedly again. “The same way you do.” She shrugs. “Life. It never stays the same, does it? You will never be the same Rainbow Dash you were before this terrible ordeal, and you won’t always be the Rainbow Dash you are right now. Your wings will heal. Your bruises will fade. You will walk down the streets of some big city with your friends and nopony will suspect what you’ve been through, despite the scars you carry.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Her words carry a lot more weight than they should. I look back to see that her eyes are distant like she’s staring down a dark tunnel toward something only she knows well enough to be afraid of. “Rare?”

She shakes herself out of the trance and meets my gaze. She gives me that brave little smile of hers and says, “Blueblood didn’t just have bad manners, Rainbow.”

I flinch and try to sit up, but she rests her hoof firmly on the middle of my back to keep me where I am. When I stop trying to move, she goes back to playing with my mane. She’s staring at the strands of green and purple sliding across her hoof when she says, “It didn’t get nearly as far as your situation. He was a brute, and he did hurt me but there is simply no comparison to be made between my experience and yours.”

She looks me in the eye again. “I allowed myself to be taken advantage of in some ways that night for which I shall ever be ashamed. You, on the other hoof, have done absolutely nothing wrong. I can’t know what you’re feeling. I only know that I thought I would never be able to show my face in public again. Then not all that long after, I was standing next to him smashing a bottle across an airship’s nose. Life moves on, Dashie. In time, so will you, if you care for yourself properly.”

I just stare at her for a while. This time when I move to sit up, she lets me go and I turn to face her. She takes my hoof and starts tracing patterns on my foreleg in a comforting kind of way. She’s gone back to not looking at me, but she’s obviously trying to comfort me. I say the only thing I can think of, “I didn’t know.”

“Nopony does,” she assures me. “Not even Fluttershy.” Rarity almost shrinks in front of my eyes. “I couldn’t bear to tell her.”

That night at the donut shop after the Gala comes back to me. Rare was laughing right along with the rest of us. She was relieved. We all were. That night sucked. Getting there and being together like we should have done all night was like finally getting to take a breath after being underwater.

Part of me always blamed Rarity for how things went down with Blueblood that night. She didn’t know anything about him, but she threw herself at him anyway. Except, now that I think about it, she really didn’t. She showed up at a fancy party in a nice dress and tried to spend some time getting to know a pony that wasn’t worth getting to know. She’s Rarity, so she gave him way more chances than he deserved, but really she didn’t do anything to deserve getting treated like crap. And she really didn’t do anything to deserve whatever else he did to her.

“I’m sorry, Rare.” I’m not sure if I’m apologizing for what happened to her or for blaming her for it for so many years.

“Thank you,” she says wiping her eye just a little. Then she clears her throat and says, “I hope you know that I wasn’t trying to elicit your pity or diminish your pain. I merely meant to say that I know from experience how time can heal some of these wounds, even if it can’t heal all of them. ”

“It’s cool. I get it.” I lean forward and she nuzzles me. When she pulls back, I ask, “So, what do I do now?”

“You keep getting up in the morning, darling.” She shrugs as if the answer is obvious. “That’s all there is really. Occasionally, you stay in bed and eat ice cream or drink some wine. But, generally, you wake up, put yourself together, and do what must be done. Then one day you’ll look in the mirror and realize that you’ve survived a month or a year, and you can’t remember the last time you felt like you do right now.”

“So, I just fake it til I make it?”

“Essentially.”

I wait a beat then say, “Sounds like bullshit to me.”

She rolls her eyes at me.

“The ice cream and wine thing didn’t sound too bad though,” I say with a hopeful lift to my voice.

“We have Princesses visiting, an advocate to meet, wings to preen and wrap, friends to check on, sisters to supervise, books to read, a defense to prepare, and pets to entertain. Which of those items do you propose we explain away first?”

“You suck,” I pout.

She shrugs. “But I do it with such fabulosity that nopony seems to mind.”

“You still suck.”

“And yet you haven’t tried to tell me that I’m wrong.” There’s that smile. That “My name’s Rarity and I know everything, so you might as well just do what I tell you.” smile.

“Because you suck,” I say again as if that is all the defense I need.

“Very well,” she says with a sigh as she hops off the bed and walks over to her vanity. “Stay in bed all day. Eat all the ice cream. Drink all the cider. Just don’t blame me when your inability to get off the ground has nothing to do with your wings, and everything to do with your own poor choices.”

“You. Suck,” I say again as she walks back with the wing oil, because her stupid, innocent, don’t-blame-me, prissy, reverse psychology, bullshit mind tricks totally work.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Now roll over. Let’s get these wings taken care of first thing. I shan’t be providing anypony evidence to accuse me of neglecting your care today,” she says hopping back up on the bed.

“Yeah, because you don’t need that on your rap sheet too,” I say as I roll over.

“Exactly. Although,” she muses, “I do believe I would have a strong case for an affirmative defense on that one as well.” Then she starts working on my wings.

“Whatever,” I mumble as I squirm to get comfortable. “I hate your lawyer by the way.”

“So, I noticed,” she says after licking a feather into place.

“You did?”

She giggles and rolls her eyes at me. “You aren’t the most subtle pony I’ve ever met, Dash.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, I’ve quite enjoyed it. Contra Forma has always been a bit abrasive, as well as being a bit obvious in her appreciation of my flank. It just doesn’t do well in my industry to offend potential resources for such trivial offenses. She’s harmless.”

“I thought Mac was harmless.” It’s an instant response, and so is hers.

“Not everypony is Mac, Rainbow.”

“It doesn’t bug you when ponies look at you like that?”

She shrugs again. “Did getting ogled bother you before all this happened?”

The short answer is: no. It didn’t bother me at all. It was kind of awesome. I knew I looked good, and it was funny any time I could catch somepony checking me out. That seems so fucking stupid now.

Does that mean I think Rarity is stupid for not getting in Contra’s face and telling her to back off? No. I don’t think Rares is doing anything wrong. I don’t like her lawpony because she’s pushy, and I don’t like knowing that she seems to think it’s ok to treat Rarity like eye candy without even trying to hide it. I just don’t trust that pony.

It didn’t matter if ponies checked me out before. I wasn’t walking around asking myself if I trusted everypony that looked at me, because I knew even if somepony tried something I didn’t like then I could handle myself. I think I still know that about most ponies.

I never felt like I needed to know that about Mac. It’s Mac! He put on a fucking dress so he could sing with Apple Bloom that one time. Yeah, he’s huge, but he’s Mac! Plus, it’s not like he ever looked at me like that. Maybe he did, but I never noticed. I did catch him looking at Fluttershy a couple of times though. Fluttershy, who never wanted attention from anypony.

I fluff my feathers in anger without thinking, and Rarity huffs at me. “I just fixed those.”

When did she get over there? Did I really zone out for a whole wing and not notice her switch sides?

Yep.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I apologize for snapping at you. You were obviously deep in contemplation.”

“Yeah.”

“Care to discuss?”

Not really, but I don’t know how many times I get to say I don’t want to talk about stuff before Rarity will start getting pushy. I try to keep my voice even, but there’s still an angry quaver to it. “He used to look at Fluttershy, Rare.”

“And now you know why she’s so upset,” she answers like I’ve finally caught up to something I should have figured out days ago.

“Because she thinks it should have been her?”

“Perhaps,” Rare lifts her mouth away from my wing and looks at me carefully, measuring me to see how much she thinks she can say without upsetting me too much. “Or, possibly she believes he went after you for being attracted to mares because she finally started showing her feelings for Twilight.”

His words again ring through my memory again, but suddenly they sound totally different and they make a lot more sense.

How do you know you don't like a stallion? Ever give one a shot?

Oh come on. You don’t even know. You might really like it if you tried it.

I promise I’m going to be real gentlelike. I’m going to show you that a stallion can be just as nice as a filly.

Ain’t I been nice? Didn’t I hold you close and kiss you like you wanted?

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I barely make it to the open window and spew my guts out onto one of Rarity’s bushes. Every lurch and heave of my stomach makes me think about him. I remember wanting to throw up on him. I can feel the hot, grimy feeling of him on my coat and the burning fullness of him ramming me from the inside; but now the memory is all flipped around in my head and instead of me it’s happening to Fluttershy while I watch.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I say with the one breath I can catch between the convulsions in my stomach. I almost fall out the window a couple of times, but Rarity holds onto me and keeps my mane out of my face. When it finally stops, I’m crying and not just because I threw up.

Rares snags a few mint leaves for me from the bathroom to get rid of the taste of bile. She also brings a wet washcloth and wipes my face.

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” she answers, wiping my mane away from my face.

“I need to talk to her,” I say with a sudden sense of urgency. It all finally makes sense now. I finally get why Flutters has been so messed up about all of this, and I need to tell her that it isn’t her fault. “I need to say sorry.”

“I’m sure she and Twilight will be with the Princesses when they come by,” Rare says calmly. “You can talk to her then.”

“You really think she’ll come?”

“Without question.” She gives me a look like she’s surprised by my question. “You are her oldest and dearest friend, Rainbow. There’s nothing you could do that would keep her away for long. She isn’t the slightest bit angry with you. On the contrary, I daresay she’s more worried than she’s ever been. And for our darling Fluttershy, that is quite an accomplishment.”

“K.” I take a breath and let myself relax just a little bit. It feels like my brain is still in overdrive, trying to catch up to all of the new information. One thing is standing out though- even though Shy’s reaction makes more sense now. “I’m still pissed about what she said to you.”

“Yes, well… perhaps you ought to talk to her about it.” Rarity is doing that overly controlled thing. The one that drives me nuts, but I know is right. I don’t want to talk to Shy about it. I don’t get mad at Fluttershy. Nopony really gets mad at Fluttershy.

“Is this how it felt to be jealous of her?”

“It was similar, I imagine.”

We just sit for a few minutes, and it’s one of those times that I fill with looking at her. She’s got new bruises from this morning. She didn’t get to finish styling her mane, and I’ve spent enough time with her now to notice the difference. She did her makeup today though. It blends better than when she does it by magic. It looks more natural, but I don’t think anypony would notice the difference unless they saw her up close every day. She looks better but still tired. She still looks good though.

I’m pretty positive that thing in the middle of the night wasn’t a dream. I wonder if she’s going to say anything about it, or if she’s just going to write it off as a symptom of my life turning to shit.

“Shall we wrap your wings up now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

The doctor wasn’t just being nice when she said that Rarity is good at all this medical stuff. She wraps my wings individually and my ribs in one giant bandage. Part of me feels confined and freaked out, but the other part loves the pressure. I feel like I can move and breathe without making anything worse.

“Did you make this wrap thing? It’s huge.”

“I did.” She smiles proudly. “The medical text suggested interweaving three smaller pieces, but that just seemed silly.”

“You should go back to the hospital and show the doc. If they don’t have something like this in the Cloudsdale hospital, they should.”

“I think it would prove rather ungainly for a pegasus to try and manage.”

That’s true. It’s too long to work around by hoof very easy. The only way for it to work is for a unicorn to put it on a pegasus, and usually, ponies go with doctors of the same tribe just because it’s convenient.

“Still, it’s worth a shot.”

“Perhaps.”

“When exactly did you make this?” It seems weird that she just happened to have the perfect thing for my injuries.

“I had a little time while you were sleeping.”

“Seriously?” The thing was perfect. It looked like a machine made it.

“Wait a second.” I’m having a memory of her talking about being able to run the sewing machine even if she’s in a different room. “You made it without looking at it?”

“For the most part,” She says it like I asked if the sky is blue. Like it’s no big deal. Like anypony could do it if they tried. “It’s just a length of fabric, Dashie, not haute couture.”

“Still…”

“You are too easily impressed, darling.” She kisses my cheek. “All done. Breakfast?”

“Yeah, ok.”

Breakfast is coffee, apples and warmed chocolate croissants.

I feel dumb, but I have to ask the question again. “Rarity, how good at magic are you?”

She’s sipping her coffee, and sketching something that she isn’t really happy with. “Hmmm?” she says. She isn’t really paying attention. “Oh, really, I’m nothing special magically speaking. I did get a little magical boost when we recovered the Elements that took some time getting used to, but it was a wave that washed away rather quickly.”

“So, any unicorn mare in town could’ve picked Mac up and chucked him like a sack of flour?”

“Certainly not, Rainbow Dash. Very few unicorns in Equestria could come close to accomplishing such a feat,” Princess Celestia says from the back door.

Chapter 16: Saturday- Princesses

The kitchen isn’t big enough for three alicorns and five ponies. Neither is the sitting room; so Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and me are all hanging out in the showroom’s sitting area waiting for Rarity. Fluttershy and Pinkie both offered to help put stuff on trays or whatever, but Rare insisted she needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts.

The Princesses seem ok with their piles of cushions and blankets on the floor. So, I don’t get why Rare is still acting all freaked out. It’s not like she didn’t know they were coming. Maybe she just thought they would come after she had a chance to organize all the ribbons in her workroom and magic away every speck of dust the Boutique has ever seen.

When she comes into the room, Rarity keeps mumbling about how everything is a mess, and how sorry she is that she didn’t think to have an alicorn sized couch, and how she meant to get some of that fancy tea Celestia told her about years ago. She sets down a tray of coffee and tea for everypony, then looks around like she doesn’t know where to go. I scoot over and make a place for her on my fainting couch, and she looks relieved.

When she settles in next to me, I nuzzle her and whisper, “Chill out, Marshmallow. It’s just Luna and Celestia.”

Rare pulls back to glare at me. It’s the same look she gave me in the Crystal Empire when I said the Crystal Palace just looked like another old castle to me. I can remember the exact way she said, “Have you lost your mind?” She’d say it again now if there weren’t two princesses here to hear her. Instead, she rolls her eyes, takes a controlled breath, and leans against me again shaking her head at me just a little.

Then nothing happens. Everypony just sips their tea and nibbles on their pastries without making eye contact. Nopony even tries to make small talk, which makes things get real weird real fast.

“So,” I say, because I hate awkward silences even more than I hate talking about feelings. “I got raped.”

Twilight sprays tea so far from her mouth that it almost gets on Celestia. For her part, Celestia doesn’t seem to notice that Twilight just turned into some kind of tea sprinkler. The Princess’s eyes just get all big for a second, but I’m pretty sure she has to use every bit of self-control that she’s spent hundreds of years developing to not have tea come out her nose. Fluttershy and Rarity look like their jaws are going to fall off their faces. Pinkie and Luna smile at me in a sad way, but somehow they both seem to have a smile behind the sadness too.

So, basically, the line worked exactly how I planned.

“Dashie-” Fluttershy says in that annoyingly quiet, pleading way of hers. It half sounds like she’s apologizing for what happened to me, and half sounds like she’s my mother and I’m trouble for being rude at the dinner table.

“What?” I cut her off before she gets a chance to tell me not to talk like that. I wave around that full room. “It’s why everypony is here. It sucks. It’s not like I want to talk about it. But, unless Celestia and Luna are here to tell me that there’s some magical something or other they can to do to make it so I don’t have to talk about it ever again, then I’d rather just get this shit over with and not waste everypony’s time.”

Something about my little speech snaps Rarity out of the funk she’s been in since the Princesses showed up. I feel her sit up taller next to me. When I turn to look at her, her eyes are bright and clear; and she gives me an encouragingly decisive nod.

So, I look at the Princesses. “So, are you guys here to fix everything or what?” I try not to sound demanding, and it works for the most part. The question manages to come out the way I meant it: like a real question.

Twilight snorts her tea again, then glares at me. Celestia’s ears twitch back and she breaks eye contact with me, only to meet Luna’s angry glare.

“Will you be explaining things, or shall I?” Luna says, and she doesn’t make any effort to seem less than demanding.

Celestia takes a deep breath, but I cut her off before she can say anything. “I’ll take that as an ‘or what.’ Next question, is Marshmallow really getting charged with assault?”

Celestia has tea come out her nose, and Luna laughs so loud the house shakes, and Rare’s entire body gets warm next to me. Maybe I shouldn’t have used her nickname. I’m totally not sorry though. The ice is broken, and that was kinda the point.

Celestia coughs a little and wipes her nose with a napkin. Luna’s trying not to laugh, or at least to laugh at a safer volume. She chuckles to Rarity, “We apologize. We mean no offense. ‘Tis a fond memory indeed that brings such a response.”

Rares looks at Celestia. “Shall I assume that our darling Rainbow is not the first to use such a clever nickname?”

Luna catches my eye. “My dear sister was so displeased with it that she pronounced its use a crime against the realm punishable by banishment.”

“And now we know why you got put in time out on the moon for a thousand years!” Pinkie giggles.

Luna gives Pinkie a weird little smile. “Had it been thus, I daresay she would not have let me return so soon.”

Celestia rolls her eyes. “That was a long time ago, dear sister. Perhaps our friends would also like to hear about what measures you have taken to prevent the use of nicknames you weren’t fond of.”

“Hanging a pony by the tongue for such offenses was the standard practice of the time. We have no shame for our actions,” Luna says looking away with her nose in the air.

It’s funny. At least for me, Pinkie, Rarity, Celestia, and Luna it’s funny. Twilight looks like she can’t process the idea that somepony would call Celestia a Marshmallow. I think Shy’s still getting over Luna’s laugh, the image of a pony hanging by their tongue, and the fact that I’m not beating around the bush with things at all today.

“Another time then,” Celestia says when she’s done teasing her little sister. “To answer your question, Rainbow Dash, yes. Rarity is being charged with assault. Unfortunately, the law is rather clear about this. Under normal circumstances, it would be a formality. She would appear once before a magistrate and plead no contest. She would then be found not guilty by reason of mitigating circumstances.”

“Why isn’t that what’s going to happen now?” Fluttershy asks. I’m surprised she doesn’t know. I thought Twilight would have explained it to her.

Luna is the one that explains it now. “Owing to the force with which Lady Rarity acted. As my sister mentioned earlier, 'tis no small feat for a mare of Lady Rarity’s dimensions and training to have any truly meaningful magic impact on such a large stallion.”

“Which is why the investigation is trying so hard to prove that she had some sort of magical accomplice,” Twilight chimes in.

“Who exactly is that accomplice supposed to have been?” Rarity asks. Nopony answers. Twilight looks at the ground. Luna and Celestia look at Twilight with pity in their eyes. It only takes a second to figure it out. “No,” Rares whispers. “They can’t possibly suspect… you, Twilight?”

Twi blinks a few tears out of her eyes, and Shy puts a wing across her back. Celestia takes a deep breath, she looks sad and angry when she talks, like she'd really like to kick somepony’s flank over what she has to say. “Twilight and the rest of you have been the target of some negative attention over the years. I have done everything in my power to protect you from it, but the present situation has given your critics an opening. They are striving to make the most of it.”

“But you weren’t even here,” I say. Twilight may have been a ridiculously shitty friend the past couple days, but she doesn't deserve this. If anypony wants to go after her, they're going to have to go through my busted behind first. “You didn’t get back from Canterlot til the next morning, right?”

Twilight nods at me. I look at Rarity. Meaningful looks are not our thing, but even I get this one. We both get up and hug Twilight.

Twi is one of the goodest goodie-four-shoes I know. Sure, she’s broken into a library; and she’s blown up a few things; and she did do that other thing that ONE time; but still. She freaked out about sending a letter late. She won’t cross the street in the middle if there’s a crosswalk because it’s against the rules. So, being suspected of this is messing her up bad. The same rules and bullshit that mean Rarity has to be charged, mean that some piece of shit ponies get to have Twilight investigated.

“I fucking hate this,” I whisper as I reach over to pull Fluttershy into the group hug. Then Pinkie does that thing where she makes her legs way too long to be real, and hugs all of us at once.

“Sorry, Twi,” I say leaning into the hug. “I didn’t think they’d be coming after you too.” Twilight doesn’t answer. She’s just leaning into Rarity’s shoulder bawling her eyes out.

“She told them she wasn’t here, but they don’t believe her,” Shy explains. “They think she came back, and then left again.”

“Fucktards.” Things are really bad when I swear like that and nopony says anything to me about it. When the hug breaks up Fluttershy and Twilight make space for me and Rares on the couch. Pinkie grabs a donut and parks on the floor in front of us.

I look at the Princesses again. “How do we fix this?” The look they give me doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Why can’t Rarity just show them what she can do, so they know that she didn’t need Twilight’s help?” Pinkie almost whines from her spot on the floor.

I think Pinkie is a genius, but all three horned ponies fold their ears back. I don’t get it. “Why won’t that work?” I ask looking at each of the princesses, then Twilight, then Rarity.

Rare takes a deep breath and says, “I had quite a bit of adrenaline running through my system that night, darling. I’m not sure I could put on a display that would convince them of anything.”

“T’would need to be truly impressive,” Luna confirms.

“A magical assessment of that nature would be a risk,” Celestia explains. “Unless Rarity could demonstrate such significant power and skill that the committee is convinced beyond all question that she could have obliterated Macintosh without effort.”

“Duh.” Everypony looks at me like I just sprouted a third wing, except Pinkie. Me and Pinks. We got this. “That’s exactly what happened. Rares said so.”

“Darling, I-”

“Shut up and listen. When our cutie marks got all fucked up, do you have any idea what you did to the sky?” I’ve been piecing this together in my brain for a while, and I’m sure that I’m right.

Rarity folds her ears back again in shame. “Of course, I do. I told Aloe and Lotus to direct all costs from recovering for both sunburns and frostbite directly to me for months afterward.”

“Yeah, but do you know what you did?” I ask. Nopony gets it, but I think Luna is about to. “Do you know how many pegasi it would have taken to make the sky look like a friggin’ patchwork quilt? And then how many more it would have taken to keep it that way? And then how many more it would have taken to make it rain? And then how many more it would have taken to make it snow? You didn’t even switch out the clouds. You just made it snow.

“Plus, I checked with the other weather teams to make sure you didn’t mess up other towns’ systems. You didn’t. They didn’t even know what happened. They just said they saw some weird shit in the sky, but it’s Ponyville so they figured some monster did it or Discord was throwing somepony a party.”

Luna definitely gets it now. Twilight and Celestia have both gone to the thinking place. Pinkie looks like she wants a cookie. Fluttershy looks like she’s got something to say. “W- would that runway show you put on for Hoity Toity be a good example? I mean...it seemed impressive.”

Everypony is looking at Rarity, but she’s looking at me. “I’m no Twilight.” How many times has she said that? “Passable. A little more than average.”

“Rarity,” Twilight asks. She’s got her researcher voice on now. “How did you know how to help the sea serpent with his mustache?”

“On our first little outing in the Everfree Forest?” Rarity answers. Twilight nods. Luna looks nervous. Even though everything is cool now, she really doesn’t like talking about that night.

“Well, what else was there to be done?” Rare says looking around as if it were obvious. “He was right to be upset. He looked awful.”

“I think what Twilight means is,” Celestia says gently. “Magically, what spells did you employ to help him? When did you learn them? Who taught them to you? And how did you know it would work?”

Rarity takes a big breath and looks at me. She looks nervous like she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Magic isn’t her thing. She gives Twilight an apologetic look, like a school-filly that just got called out for not studying for a test.

I nuzzle her to get her attention. “Just tell it like you’d tell me if I asked,” I say. “It never made sense to me anyway.”

“Well, he did look terrible, and he was so distraught. One can’t simply recreate something like his mustache. I had no idea of its texture or hair count. That orange color would have been so difficult to match exactly, and we certainly didn’t have the time to go into all of that. So, I thought a tail would be the next best thing, and I would never ask any of you to make such a sacrifice. I also thought I might be able to ask Aloe and Lotus for some extensions or something in the meantime while my own tail grew back. It did look rather dashing on him, I must say.”

Celestia is about to say something, but I get there first. “Yeah, but how did you do it?”

“Oh,” Rare waves a hoof in a throwaway gesture. “I’m not so technical as all that. I’m sure Twilight would tell you something about connecting each strand to the appropriate follicle so that it would grow properly, and so on. I simply told my tail to become the serpent's mustache, and it did.”

“What?” Twilight looks like she’s about to blow a gasket. Her eye is starting to twitch in that way we all know can’t be good. “What do you mean you told your tail? How did you tell it? You integrated pony cells into a completely different species! What method did you use for that?

“Did you know that you could have made him sick? You could have hurt him. Your tail could have supercharged and exploded! But you just tol-”

Rare cuts Twilight off mid-rant. “It was a basic repair spell, Twilight Nothing more. I just mended the cut strands. It’s nothing I haven’t done a thousand times here at the shop.”

“It was far more than that, Rarity,” Celestia says and we all look at her. “Twilight is right, if done improperly, that bit of magic could have caused serious damage to your target.”

“Oh posh, Celestia,” Luna says. “T’would only be dangerous had Lady Rarity been confined to definitions of species and equations. We know, dear sister, that both you and Twilight are quite beholden to such limits but I have always said that they are not necessary. ‘Tis perfectly safe for an artist to wield their craft as Lady Rarity describes.”

“What are they talking about?” I whisper in Rarity’s ear.

“In essentials, they are talking about the philosophy and method of one’s magic,” Rare explains. “A unicorn may influence the world around them through a variety of methods. Twilight, for example, tends to be very precise, as with the Ursa Minor. She drew on specific spells and charms to create each layer of magic she employed, and then executed each measure within a given set of parameters meant to keep herself and everypony safe.”

“Right. So, what’s the difference?”

“That day I had your cutie mark, I had a bit of a… conversation with the sky. I simply suggested that I thought we ought to try a checkerboard pattern and see how it looked.”

Gagging. Twilight is gagging. Celestia’s eyes are bugging out of her head, and Luna is looking like she just found the next solo flyer for the Wonderbolts hiding in some little flight school outside Appleloosa.

Part of me wants to laugh, and part of me is pretty much on the same page as Twilight. “You did the work of about a hundred pegasi ponies just to try and see if it looked good?” I ask incredulously.

“Well, I was compelled by that cutie mark of yours to do something with the sky, wasn’t I?”

Rares just doesn’t get where I’m going with all of this. She’s so busy believing that the only way to be awesome at magic is to be Twilight that she can’t even see how what she did was a big deal. I don’t even do magic, and I know that she just doesn’t get it.

“I’m sure any other pony here could have done the same,” she says with a genuine innocence that I don’t hear from her very often.

“That is a false assumption, Rarity,” Luna says warmly with just a hint of a smug smirk. “Perhaps I could have. However, although my dear sister and Twilight Sparkle each have sufficient power to achieve such a feat, neither of them would have the control of free-form magic to make it so without extensive preparation. In short, neither of them would be comfortable simply ‘speaking with the sky’ as you so aptly describe.”

“Oh, Luna, you are too kind, but-”

“She’s right, Rarity,” Twilight interrupts. Her eye is still twitching, and she can’t seem to focus on anything so she just stares at the floor. “I always assumed that the spell I cast somehow affected you differently, because you were a unicorn, but that’s never made much sense.

“There was no aspect of the spell that could reasonably be expected to produce that kind of side effect. But, when I tried to gauge how much magical output you must have generated to do what you did, the number was so high that after several attempts I just assumed a bad premise and abandoned the experiment.”

“You can’t be serious.” Rarity glances around at Twilight, then the Princesses, then me. “Perhaps, Rainbow’s cutie mark transferred something; gave me some connection to the sky I wouldn’t normally have had.”

“It’s a workable theory, but even Rainbow Dash would have needed substantial help to do what you did,” Celestia says.

“Yeah. Like a hundred Rainbow Dashes and the entire Cloudsdale weather factory,” I say.

Luna giggles. “Perhaps, I shall give thee reign of the night sky for an evening and see what you make of it,” she says.

“Oh, I could never let you do that, darling,” Rare instantly replies. “Of course, I do have some ideas, but your night sky is so lovely. I couldn’t possibly-”

“Seriously?” Twilight gets off the couch and yells at Rarity. “Seriously? Princess Luna offers to let you take the night sky out for a test drive, and you say you can’t because it would be rude? Not because it’s the fucking night sky and only an alicorn can hope to have any control over it? Seriously!?” She’s huffing and snorting like she’s about to charge at us.

“Um- Twilight,” Fluttershy stands up too and puts her wing over Twi’s back. “Maybe we should take a little break.” She starts leading Twilight to the kitchen.

Celestia gets up to follow them. Twilight looks at her. “It’s the sky, Celestia! It’s the motherfucking sky!”

When they’re gone me, Pinkie, and Luna laugh. We laugh hard. We laugh until we’re crying. It’s a good thing Rarity bound me up like this or my ribs would be killing me.

Rarity says something about how it’s not nice to laugh at Twilight when she’s all stressed out, and that just makes us laugh harder. I can’t help myself. I kiss her cheek in between laughs. She blushes and smiles at me, but it’s the ‘that’s enough, Rainbow’smile. So, I make myself take the deepest breaths I can and calm down.

When we’re all sitting quietly, Rarity finally says- with a little evil look in her eyes- “I didn’t mean to imply that it wouldn’t take a little bit of effort.”

And we’re laughing again.

“Let it be done!” Luna says seriously, pounding her hoof on the floor like a gavel. “When thy name is clear and thy wounds are healed, then shall I give thee the sky for a time. It shall drive both my sister and Twilight Sparkle to the brink of madness. What a revel it shall be!”

“Ooo. Can I throw a party?” Pinkie asks. “It could be a Rarity Rocks the Night theme.”

“Make it so, Pinkie Pie,” Luna declares. “Perhaps we shall proclaim it a holiday.”

“Now, now, Princess,” Rare chides. “Let’s not do anything in poor taste.”

Luna laughs again. Then she and Pinkie start planning the party.

“Can you honestly make the sky do stuff?” I ask Rarity quietly.

Rares thinks for a second before she answers, “If given proper access to it of course, then... yes. I believe so. The night sky, in particular, has wards and protections that I couldn’t hope get through unassisted because the stars and their alignment have such a strong influence across Equestria. However, if given direct access, then yes. I am confident I could arrange things quite nicely- although temporarily.”

“You speak of my sky with great reverence, Rarity,” Luna says sounding pleased.

“Of course. Why shouldn’t I? It is the night sky after all.”

Twilight must have heard something we were saying, because she yells from the kitchen, “That's right! It’s the motherfucking sky!”

Pinkie had to go watch the twins. The horned ponies are still in the sitting area strategizing. I got tired and started falling asleep, so Fluttershy and I came upstairs. She asked if I needed anything, but I didn’t, so she’s just laying here with me.

I was falling asleep downstairs. Celestia was saying something about ambient knowledge informing the conscious mind, and I drifted off. Now that I’m here though, I can’t fall asleep. I kinda want to ask Fluttershy to move off the bed, but that would make her sad.

“I’m so sorry, Dashie.” The words squeak out of her like she was trying to be brave and hold them back, but she couldn’t. It’s pretty obvious that she isn’t apologizing for whatever she said to Rarity yesterday, so I can only think of one thing that could be getting her so upset that she’s shaking.

“It isn’t your fault, Shy.”

“Of course it’s my fault,” she whimpers.

“How do you figure?”

“Mac asked me out last month.” She wipes away a few tears before going on. “I told him no. When he asked why, I told him that I was interested in somepony else. He asked what some other stallion had that he didn’t. I didn’t answer, but I think he figured out that I wasn’t talking about a stallion.”

“So?”

“If I-”

“If you what, Shy?” I snap. “If you lied to him? If you made yourself do something you didn’t want to do? If you didn’t like who you like? Does that make it Twilight’s fault?” I hear Rarity in my head. She asked me the same questions, and I freaked out at her about it. Shy doesn’t freak out at me.

“I just- I just hate it,” she says. Then in one of the quietest whispers I’ve ever heard. “I hate that I’m grateful it was you and not me.”

There she is. There’s my Fluttershy. She feels guilty. She sees my bruises and busted wings and wishes I didn’t have them, but she also feels relief. Rarity wishes she could have taken my place, Fluttershy wishes it had never happened. That difference matters. That difference is why Rares can be my wingmare through all of this and Fluttershy can’t. It’s why Shy went after Rare yesterday. Shy feels guilty, but she wants to do something to help me so she doesn’t have to feel bad about being glad it wasn’t her.

I sit up and pull Shy into a hug. It takes a long time for her to stop crying and telling me how sorry she is. I’m way past ready to have some space, but I don’t let go. She needs me, and I can get some space when she’s done. I force myself to breathe. I close my eyes and think about how it feels to have my forehead touching Rarity’s, and I try to breathe to that rhythm. It’s just a little slower than my own. It’s just enough to make me focus.

When Flutters finally stops crying, I give her one more little squeeze and say, “It’s cool, Shy. We’re ok.”

She squeezes back and says, “Ok.”

I’m kinda surprised she held onto me that long. Shy usually doesn’t like being touched. Hugging isn’t really a pegasus thing. Pegasi are all about space and freedom and moving. Hugging takes all of that away, so even family members don’t do it that often.

We move apart and we both breathe easier. Then we just sit quietly for a while. “Do you need anything?” she asks me. I ask for something to drink. I could get it myself, but it’s good for her to have something to do. I know that.

Of course, she brings me tea. What is with ponies and tea? I mean, it’s ok once in awhile, but I’d rather have water or juice. Shy knows that, but tea makes her feel better. That’s why she brought it. I don’t know why but that makes me think about cider and the number of times I’ve seen Rarity down a bottle of cider in the past few days. She drinks cider when she’s stressed. She drinks wine when she’s trying to chill. She drinks tea when ponies are watching. Apparently, she drinks tequila when she wants to dance.

Fluttershy is giving me the eyebrow. I guess I laughed. I shake my head at her though, refusing to answer the question she didn’t ask.

“So, how’s Twilight?” I say instead.

“Oh, she’s a wreck. She hasn’t been sleeping well or eating much. She-”

“Yeah,” I say-giving her the eyebrow this time. “But how is Twilight?”

“Dashie!”

“What? You’re the one that brought up how she hasn’t been sleeping much.”

“How’s Rarity?” She fires back at me. This is the Fluttershy nopony gets to see except me. She’s more like my big sister than my friend. She’s sarcastic and strong. These are the moments I remember when she gets scared by her own shadow.

“Rares is awesome. Why?”

“Dashie?”

“It’s not like that, Shy. She’s just helping me out.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“So, you aren’t sleeping in her bed, the two of you don’t kiss or nuzzle each other when one of you leaves the room, you aren’t snuggling into her every chance you get, and you definitely aren’t giving her adorable little nicknames?”

“Nope.”

“Dashie.”

“It’s not like that, Shy. You know that.”

“Do I? Do you? Does she?”

“It’s Rarity. You really think she isn’t just helping me?”

“She let you call her Marshmallow in front of the Princesses and didn’t say anything about it. She’s covered in bruises that it doesn’t look like she was even trying to hide. She’s brushing your mane for you, and preening your wings, and being rude to other ponies for you. What does that sound like to you?”

“The Marshmallow thing was funny She was going to do the magical cover up thing when we were done eating, but you guys got here. The rest of it just sounds like Rarity being Rarity to me.”

“Her cat likes you.”

“Fluffball isn’t that bad. Which reminds me, will you bring Tank over? I miss him.”

“Don’t try and change the subject, Rainbow Dash.”

“Nothing’s going on Fluttershy.” She looks at me. She isn’t convinced. I knew we were going to talk about it, but now I’m done. “It’s not there, Shy. She’s just helping me out. I know that. You shouldn’t have said that shit to Rarity yesterday.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” I was trying not to raise my voice, but I did and it cracked. “I’m fucked up, Shy. I got raped less than a week ago, and I’m just trying not to freak out at anypony. Rares makes me feel better. That’s it.”

Fluttershy takes a deep breath and calms herself a little. “She’s my best friend, you know?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, be careful with her,” Shy snaps. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know Rarity is helping you. Just… be careful. Don’t hurt her or yourself worse just because you’re trying to feel better.”

I hear what she’s saying. She’s wrong though. I’m not going to hurt Rarity. I can’t. Rares doesn’t feel like that about me. How could she? She’s being Rarity, which is more awesome than I knew before. She wants a prince, not a busted up former Wonderbolt that couldn’t keep herself safe. She’s got the fucking Princesses of Equestria freaking out about how cool she is, and she’s acting like she’s no big deal. Before I was a Wonderbolt, Spitfire couldn’t say hi to me without me freaking out about how awesome she was. Can anypony say mismatch?

“You never answered my question,” I say after a few minutes of silence.

“Of course I’ll brink Tank over. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Not that one. How’s Twilight?” That blush and sideways glance is all I need to know. I throw up a hoof. “Go Fluttershy!” She bumps it and smiles.

Chapter 17: Saturday- Sharp

Twilight comes up a few minutes later to tell me that the advocate pony is here from Canterlot. I don’t want to get up. I don’t want to talk to some pony I don’t know about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me and have them act like they can somehow make it all better. I don’t want to see them fight back pity because some book somewhere told them that looking at rape victims like that is a bad idea.

Still, it’s pretty damn funny to walk into the showroom and see somepony totally freaked out about sharing space with three princesses and three element bearers. She’s an average size, tan unicorn with a curly mane and some sort of sword thing for a cutie mark.

Even though it’s funny to see, it doesn’t fix anything. I catch Rarity’s eye and give her my best, “please don’t make me do this!” look. She sees me, but doesn’t give me the indulgent smile I was hoping for; her eyes are sympathetic and apologetic instead. I’m not getting out of this. She isn’t going to let me dodge this conversation, because she really thinks it will help me or something noble like that.

I try to not be obvious about looking around. As much as I don’t want to talk to this new pony, I really don’t want to talk to her in front of an audience. Rare nods at me. It only takes her a few seconds to rejoin the conversation and politely say the Rarity equivalent of, “everypony out!” She asks the princesses of they are done strategizing for now. They are.

There’s a little buzz in the room that I didn’t notice before. Luna and Celestia are smiling. They’re talking like they’ve worked out some sort of plan. Twilight looks like she’s about to barf, but I don’t really know why. Rare has her mask up hardcore. Or, she’s being Rarity... She’s smiling and polite, but it seems like she’s still got stress or something bubbling under the surface that she’s working really hard to keep secret. It’s hard to tell though because she makes it look effortless. Just like always.

As the princesses walk to the door, Rare and Celestia share a Marshmallow moment of talking about how hard it is to keep their coats clean that makes me and Luna laugh.

There’s a round of hugs. Then it’s just me, Rares, and the advocate pony- who looks like a herd of buffalo just stampeded through the shop. I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes.

Sure, Celestia and Luna are the princesses. That’s a big deal. I totally respect that. But, it’s not like they’re the Wonderbolts or something. We’re friends. I could totally hang out and drink with those two. They both like a good prank or a good party. Celestia just wants everypony to treat her normal, and Luna just wants everypony to treat her like she isn’t going to turn into Nightmare Moon any second. They’re cool. I feel like it’d be fun to just hang out and fly with them for an afternoon or something. Maybe I just forget that not everypony knows them like that, so it’s funny when they act like hanging out with a princess is a big deal.

I missed hearing the new pony’s full name, but I did hear that she likes to be called Sharp. Rare offers to make some lunch while we talk. I honestly don’t want to be alone in a room with Sharp whateverhernameis, so I follow Rare into the kitchen. Sharp follows a few steps behind me, and we sit at the table while Rarity starts making a salad.

“So, what do you do exactly?” I ask after a few seconds when it seems like Sharp would rather wait in the awkward silence for Rarity to come play mediator than just say whatever it is she came to say.

“You don’t pull any punches do you?” she snaps back. Her tone has just as much bite as mine.

“Why waste time acting like you’re here for an autograph or to braid my mane?” I retort and Rarity gives me that look that says I could at least pretend to have some manners. I roll my eyes at her. Then take a deep breath and try to find all of the patience and stuff I have to use with Wonderbolt fans after a bad show- when I really just want to find my way to the locker room and hot shower, but the bosses say I have to shake hooves and smile for the cameras. It’s a pretty thin act, but it will get Rarity to stop looking at me like that.

“Look,” I say to Sharp. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude. I just really don’t get why you’re here.”

Rare puts our salads on the table. I notice that mine is the only one with strawberries. Then she holds up a few bottles of juice for us to pick from. I pick grape. She opens the bottle and puts in a straw. Once we’re all squared away, she sits down.

Sharp takes a bite of her salad, then starts talking. She talks to Rares as much as she talks to me, which makes me think that she thinks we’re a couple. It makes me kinda happy that Rarity doesn’t correct her about it.

“Basically, I’m here for whatever you need,” she says in a surprisingly casual way. “You’ve already been through the worst, which, apart from the actual assault, is usually the physical exam and the initial interview. From what I hear though, your interview got totally botched, so you’re probably going to have to go in again. Even if they do everything perfectly the first time, they usually interview the victim at least twice. My job is to make sure you don’t freak out in an interview, and to make sure that the guards asking the questions don’t do anything to cause you anymore trauma, and to make sure that you don’t get yourself into any trouble by not dealing with what happened to you.”

“Not to be rude Ms. Sharp, but it seems a bit late for much of that, doesn’t it?” Rares asks.

“Yes and no,” Sharp answers noncommittally. “I can’t help with what’s already happened, but I can help going forward. I can put you in touch with the right ponies to get through this as few screw ups and extra pain as possible.”

I can’t decide if I like her or not. She’s a straight shooter, but it’s like she can’t decide if she’s trying to be my friend or my teacher. She seems like she knows what she’s doing, but she also seems like a pony with a cause. That’s cool, except I’m not a cause.

Plus, even though getting interviewed sucked, I don’t really like that she just made it sound like the guard ponies can’t be trusted.

“This is a long way from over,” she continues. “The public defender assigned to your case is notorious for blaming the victim. He’ll do just about anything to get his clients acquitted, even stupid things.”

“Yeah, we know,” I say in my duh tone of voice. She isn’t telling me anything I don’t know, and it’s bugging me. I know I’m being a pain in the flank, but I don’t know this pony. I don’t trust her, and I don’t like that she already knows so much about what happened to me when it’s none of her damn business.

Sharp looks down at her food, and her mouth kind of twitches like she wants to say something but keeps fighting it back.

“Perhaps you could tell us what your role might be in Rainbow’s case,” Rarity suggests in her polite, businesslike tone.

“Sure,” Sharp says gratefully. Rare just threw her a life raft, and she knows it. Her dark brown eyes settle on me and she says, “Honestly, I’m not sure how much you’re going to need me. If the news from the past few years is any indication, then you’ve got good friends. You’ve obviously got somepony taking great care of you.

“If they get anywhere with this turning the tables nonsense then you may need an attorney, but that doesn’t seem likely. At this point, I think you should call me if you get called in for questioning again. I also think it’d be a good idea to have me there anytime you go to court. I think you should start seeing a trauma counselor, and I think you should spend as much time outside as you can.”

The last thing seems weird. “Why?” I ask.

“Because you’re a pegasus. You usually spend most of your time off the ground, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, every day you can’t be in the sky it’s going to get worse. Every time your basic biology tells you to just get away from all this shit and you can’t, you’re going to feel like he took even more from you. Go outside. Sit on the top of a hill and let the wind blow across your feathers. It will suck, but it will help. You also need to spend time alone.” Her eyes dart to Rarity and then back to me. “Pegasi are natural loners. They don’t bond the same way other ponies do, but after trauma they are by far the group most likely to lose themselves in co-dependent behaviors. When you’re ready you need to make sure you spend time alone and do things for yourself.”

The idea of being alone makes me see red. I can feel every hair on my body and every feather in my wings bristling. I hate being alone. I hated it before, and I hate it even more now. I hate being told that spending time with the one pony I feel ok being broken around is a bad thing. Why is everypony’s first answer to tell me to get away from Rarity? Plus, I hate being talked to like a pegasus instead of like a pony with my own brain.

“I think it’s time for you to go now,” Rarity says. Her tone is polite, but it’s obvious she’s kicking Sharp out of the house.

The tan pony doesn’t get up though. She just looks at me. “You don’t like what I have to say? That’s fine. You’ve got plenty of ponies around that can tell you all the things you want to hear. That’s not my job.

“Some ponies, I hold their hooves and I give them the facts when they can handle it. Some ponies, I tell everything upfront so they can make their own choices. You,” she points at me for extra emphasis, “have got to make choices.

“I know you don’t want me here, and that’s ok. I’ll go, and I won’t come back unless you think you need me. But, I’m not going to screw things up for you even worse by telling you lies.

“You think it’s bad now? Wait a week or a month, when the bruises are gone and you’ve got no excuse to hide in this pretty little house with your pretty little marefriend. Wait until you’re standing in a crowd of ponies, and they all know, and you can’t hide, and you can’t remember your own name. Get to counseling, Rainbow Dash, or when all that shit really hits the fan you’re going to flap your wings and fly away and your friends might never see you again.”

Rarity makes her leave after that. I sit hating that Sharp was right. I hate that I can still feel Mac’s hooves all over me pretty much every second of the day. I hate knowing that Fluttershy has a good point about the fact that I could hurt Rarity and myself without meaning to if I’m not careful about just doing whatever makes me feel better.

I really don’t want to make things worse for me or for Rarity by not dealing with stuff the way I need to, and I know Sharp was right about that part too. Pegasi suck at facing things like this head on. Twilight probably has some big historical reason for why that’s true. All I know is that I’ve seen it. Put most Pegasi in a battle situation, and they will either try to attack the problem until it surrenders or they will fly away. Very few will actually try to work through the problem and solve it. That’s a unicorn thing, figuring stuff out like that. Or an earth pony thing, working at a problem either until it wears down or until it just isn’t a problem anymore because times have changed.

Rare sits across from me when she gets back from showing Sharp to the door. We are both right on the edge of cracking, and I don’t know what to do about it. Everything feels too small and cramped all of the sudden. All of the problems that I don’t have answers for are right there, in my face telling me that it’s time to get away, but I don’t know how.

I don’t exactly understand what’s going on with Rares. I don’t get why figuring out that she just has to put on a magic show is making her look like she’s worried her next fashion show is going to fail.

I don’t get why there are ponies going after her or after Twilight. Or, why anypony in Canterlot cares about how the Princesses treat any of us. That’s political stuff that I just don’t care about. I never have.

I know that there were some ponies that got bugged when I was promoted to the Wonderbolts and even more that griped when I got made a lieutenant. They thought I got the spot because I was a friend of the Princesses and that sucked. Clearly, they just needed a chance to witness my awesomeness, because once I stopped making a fool of myself and just did my thing then they all shut up.

Now I wonder if they really did though. Or, if somepony was just in charge of making sure I didn’t hear about that shit anymore.

Rare clears her throat. I think maybe she just said something to me but I didn’t hear it. “Sorry,” I say sheepishly.

“It’s quite alright, darling.” She smiles knowingly. “You are understandably distracted. I was just mentioning that a walk might be nice. I feel as though we have spent quite enough time in the house for the time being. What do you think?”

“A walk sounds awesome!”

We don’t talk after that. We just get up and go. Rare leads us down the side street toward the meadow, then onto a path toward Sweet Apple Acres. It looks like Sweetie might use it once in awhile, but other than that it doesn’t get much traffic. It’s nice and quiet, and being outside feels good.

We stop for a minute, and Rare unwraps my wings so I can feel the breeze across my feathers. We don’t have to talk about it to know that the stupid advocate pony said some things that were right.

I slowly stretch my wings and carry them out for a while. Everything feels really sore and tender at first, but after a few minutes, it’s not so bad. Plus, having my wings up like that means Rares can tuck under one of them and we can walk with our sides touching. When I get tired, I put the one wing away and just let the other rest on her back. If it bugs her, she doesn’t say anything. So, I leave it there.

We walk around Sweet Apple Acres for a while. We aren’t anywhere close to where they’re planting, so there’s really no chance of running into anypony. The section they’ve set aside this year for the vampire fruit bats runs along one side and a field they haven’t planted in a while along the other. It’s a nice day. Nothing fancy. The sun is warm, but not hot.

The pony in charge of the clouds probably just let them go without doing anything to them, which is fine. Cloud release is actually one of my favorite jobs. All it takes is an extra few minutes, and I can make formations that look cool for miles. Sometimes I’ll make shapes, then go to the park to listen to the kids with their moms to see if they can guess the shapes right. And of course, I always pick out the day’s best cloud and set it aside for my nap.

After a while, Rares pulls us over to a grassy spot and lays down. I follow her, always close enough to keep my wing on her back. She kinda snuggles into me like she did last night, and I put my head on her back again. Even though we lay like that for a long time, I know she isn’t asleep. I wish she was, but I get why she’s not. There’s too much going on. Too much happened this morning that needs to be thought through, and Rarity is the kind of pony that thinks through things by actually thinking instead of napping.

It’s weird that we aren’t talking. Rarity talks about everything. She talks so much sometimes that I want to puke. Not now. Now, whatever she’s got going on in her head she’s keeping to herself. Maybe that’s because she feels like I’ve already got enough to deal with and maybe it’s because I’ve never been one of the ponies she talks to about stuff like that. Even with everything that’s happened, maybe that’s one part of our dynamic that hasn’t changed, which actually makes me feel bad. It’s my fault she’s in this mess. I want to help her out if I can.

I wonder what she’s going to have to do for her test thing. Maybe it will be some kind of obstacle course or something. That would be cool. Maybe Luna has some old school magic trial they used to use for unicorn warriors or something.

With all the stuff that’s going on, and with the way Celestia made it sound like there are a lot of ponies in Canterlot that want to see one of us in trouble for something, I’m kind of surprised they haven’t come to arrest Rarity yet. I wonder if they’re going to put her under house arrest or something. Or, if that would just make things worse because it would seem like more preferential treatment.

I can’t decide if I think her career could really be over because of this, or if she’ll be able to turn it into a good thing. If anypony can flip it around like that, it’s Rarity. She’s a fucking hero, why does her career have to be over because of that?

Even though my eyes are already closed, I feel sleepiness start to settle like little weights on the ends of my eyelashes. I fall asleep because thinking about everything and not getting anywhere is overwhelming. I know she isn’t ok. I know I’m not ok. I know that Twilight and Fluttershy aren’t ok. Applejack isn’t alright either. And, if all of us are this messed up, then there’s no way Pinkie is ok. But, I don’t know how to help with any of that, so I let myself drift off and hope that I don’t get stuck in another freak out when I wake up.

I half expect to wake up in her bed, but I don’t. We’re still bedded down in the tall grass. She’s awake, tucked under my pathetic excuse for a wing, watching the clouds going by.

“You wanna talk about it?” I ask groggily.

“Hmm?” She looks down at me for a second then shakes her head. “There’s nothing to talk about, Rainbow, but thank you for asking.” The words are too controlled. Her voice is just a little too tight. I recognize the tone of voice. It’s the one she uses when she wants to talk, but it’s not the right time or not the right pony. I never noticed before how often she’s used that voice on me.

“Thanks for doing it,” I say, because I need her to know that even though I’m not worth what she’s going through I’m still grateful. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You don’t ever need to thank me, Rainbow,” she says.

I turn on my side and pull her into a hug. She buries her muzzle in my chest, and I’m not sure if she’s crying or not.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“I’m not,” she answers easily and confidently. She relaxes just a little, and I think she’s going to pull away, but she doesn’t. She just rolls a little bit so we’re both more comfortable while I hold her close. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, Rainbow, without hesitation. Regardless of all the rest. I’m only sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“Thanks,” I say, and just lay like that for a while. I catch a glimpse of her hooves, which are still all torn up from her rockhounding trip. “You should do something about those.” I reach over and almost tap one of her forehooves with my own.

She just shrugs a little and says in a totally unconvincing way, “Oh, they aren’t so bad.”

“Whatever. You look like you let a baby manticore gnaw on your hooves. Let’s take a trip to the spa.”

Her eyes go from cloudy to bright in an instant. “Would you mind?” she asks, barely able to hide how much she likes the idea.

“Nah.” I shrug. “It might be nice. If we can avoid seeing anypony. Know anypony that can talk the twins into setting us up in a private room or something?”

And just like that, we’re up and heading toward the spa. I started going on my own a long time ago. When I made the Wonderbolt reserves, one of the trainers told me to find a good massage therapist so that I could recover from workouts faster. Aloe is probably one of the best sports massage ponies in Equestria. I just didn’t need anypony to know that I was into being pampered. Though, if they really thought about it, it isn’t much of a stretch. What’s more pampered than sleeping on a cloud?

We stick to the same basic route back to Ponyville, but once we get close to town I remember that it’s the middle of the afternoon on a weekend and I look like I got raped. Rares does the touch up magic thing on both of us, so we look better than perfect except for the thin spots in my wings. She says it won’t last long, but I don’t know if I believe her anymore. From what Celestia, Luna, and Twilight were saying, Rarity might be on her way to being the next most magical unicorn in Equestria, now that Twi got herself promoted to alicorn.

We take a big breath and hit the street. It’s like walking from Town Hall to the hospital all over again. Main street is our red carpet and we are working it. We look awesome. We act awesome. We know that everypony is talking about us, but we don’t care. She giggles, and I do the Wonderbolt smile. We ignore the whispers and the sideways glances. I still have a wing resting on her back, but it’s the opposite side from our walk to Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity said that she didn’t want me to be unevenly stretched or something.

By the time we get to the spa, I think we’re both about to crack again. Putting on a show like that is exhausting, especially when everypony already knows something really bad happened. Maybe putting on the show is pointless, but this is one of those things that Rare and I actually agree on. It doesn’t matter what ponies think they know, it matters what it feels like they can know. And if we don’t let them see how messed up we are, then there’s no way they can actually know how bad it is, which is how we like it. We’re way too awesome for other ponies to know that we get messed up, just like them.

It’s like the twins knew we were coming. They have a room all ready for us. It isn’t huge, but it’s plenty. Rares asked me on the way here if I was ok with the twins knowing what happened. I’m pretty sure all of Ponyville already knows, but I said I don’t mind anyway. Aloe and Lotus are good ponies.

I see it in their eyes the second Rares drops the magic. They look at me, and I know that they already knew. They just know for sure now. They each ask to hug me and I let them. They’re quick about it, which I appreciate. They hug Rare too. They don’t ask about her bruises, but they notice them and try not to look at me.

“Night terrors suck,” I mumble with a shrug. There’s an awkward pause and an awkward laugh. We move on.

I thought coming here would help, but Rares is still on edge. I’m sure I’ve seen her like this before, but I can’t remember when. Probably because I wasn’t paying attention then. It’s weird to think about how little I’ve paid attention to her over the years. We’ve been friends for a long time. We’ve saved each other’s lives more than once. I know a lot about her, but I feel like I don’t really know her. I’m not the one that pays attention to stuff like that. Anypony else in our group might know what to do for her or understand what’s going on with her, but I don’t get it and I don’t feel like it’s a good idea to ask.

The other hard thing is that she’s still being so damn Rarity right now. She’s smiling and chatting about stupid stuff that doesn’t matter. She’s talking about how wonderful it feels to be here, and she means it, but everypony knows she’s hiding something.

Aloe and Lotus keep trading glances and then looking at me like I’m supposed to know what to do, but the truth is, listening to her ramble on about nothing is kinda comforting for me. It’s normal. It gives me permission to tune out. Even though it kind of bugs me that Rare is still putting on the show, I really don’t want to ask her to stop or to explain things to me right now. It’s probably the total wrong thing to do, but for now I want to just stick to the program and let her act like we’re here because we just got back from some Friendship thing.

It really is a bad idea. I’m sitting too still. It’s taking too long. I have too much space. Rarity is too far away to distract me. I can feel the memories creeping out of my muscles. I can always feel the weight on me, but it’s the difference between somepony resting there hoof on my flank and feeling a huge, hot, heavy brand slamming down around the cutie mark and ripping me apart just beneath the skin. It’s not like they ever really go away, but right now it feels like they are being drawn to the surface by the stillness and the awkward tension in the room. I want to escape the weirdness, but the only option my body is giving me for escape is a nightmare.

I try to focus on Rarity. The more treatments she does though, and the more she acts like there’s nothing really wrong, and the angrier I get. All the anger connected to my cuts and bruises and broken wings flows toward that stupid, beautiful unicorn for no other reason than because she’s acting like everything is normal when everything is not normal. She’s supposed to be relaxing, not putting on a show.

Part of me gets it. I do it too. I was right there with her on the way here. I put on my Wonderbolt smile, and I tell the world I’m awesome and hope nopony notices that I’m totally freaking out. She’s not supposed to do that- especially not right now. That fucking prissy smile is driving me bat-shit crazy right now, and I have to bite my tongue so I don’t yell at her that I need her to make me feel better and she’s doing a shitty job.

I don’t like being mad her though, so I force myself to really think about it. I’m mad at myself; not Rarity. I know she doesn’t deserve it. I get why she doesn’t want to talk about the real stuff with Aloe and Lotus. She’s probably trying to protect me or something. If I wasn’t here maybe she’d open up and let the twins help her think through all of the stuff, but she can’t because she doesn’t want me to hear how bad it is.

I’m mad that I can see it now. I can see her struggling. I can hear the things she isn’t saying because she won’t share any real pain with these ponies. And I know that if I’d paid even a little more attention, then I would have seen it before. The part of me that doesn’t want to yell at her wants to tell her that I’m sorry for being a shitty friend, and I love her, and I’ll do better now.

When we’re finished, I honestly don’t remember what all we had done. I definitely spent some time in a hot tub and got a hooficure (which was weird), because those were the things I could have done without causing problems. Aloe cried, because she was going to try to give me a massage but thought she might hurt me or make things worse. Then she was going to do something to my wings, but she said they already looked as good as they possibly could. So, she just sent us with some stuff to help the new feathers grow in and stop the itching. She said wrapping them was the best thing for them until I can fly again.

The walk back to The Boutique sucks. I’m still mad and guilty. It feels like something bad is going to happen the second we walk through the door of The Boutique, and when we do the place still feels too small. I’m not home. I don’t know what to do with myself. I need a minute, but Rarity is right there. I want to talk to her, but I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realize it, but I’m suddenly I’m hit over the head with the fact that I’ve been feeling helpless and useless a lot today.

I wander into the workroom and plop on my favorite fainting couch, just because I don’t know what else to do. There’s nowhere else to go.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly leaning against the door frame. It doesn’t matter that her coat and mane and hooves look perfect, she still looks like crap. She looks tired and beat up, like she’s about to cry or start wailing on somepony.

“Huh?”

“I apologize for today.”

“Why?” I’m honestly confused. I mean, I’ve been grumpy and messed up, but she has no way of knowing that. I didn’t say anything.

“I feel as though I’ve been rather selfish today- toting you along and asking you to keep up appearances with me. Thank you for that by the way. I know it’s exhausting.”

It takes my brain a minute to catch up, but that’s all it takes to make my anger go away, and kill the feeling that something bad is going to happen. I didn’t think she’d notice that I was off. I thought I’d tried to keep it to myself, but she’s Rarity. She sees everything, and it makes me feel better. I don’t think she was always like that. She definitely didn’t see everything when Fluttershy was modeling, but Shy’s also a lot better at hiding shit than I am.

“What happened?” I ask.

It wasn’t supposed to be a hard question. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m not trying to blame her for anything. I know she’s tired. I just want to understand what’s been going on all day, but she’s struggling to answer. The second I ask, her face immediately looks like the Rarity I’ve always known. Then, it’s like she remembers that I asked her not to hide things from me anymore and she starts forcing the mask away. I never thought Rarity of all ponies would have a hard time talking about herself. It’s kinda sad to watch.

I start to get up. I want to go to her. I don’t know if I want to hug her or what, but the space between us feels wrong. She waves me off. “Don’t trouble yourself, Dashie. I’m alright,” she says. It sounds like she's trying not to cry.

“Shut up, Marshmallow,” I say ignoring the lame attempt. “I'm going to hug you. You're going to like it, and it's going to make us both feel better. Then you're going to make tea, and explain this day to me so I can understand it. When that's over you're going to work for a while and I'm going to make dinner. K?”

I'm standing in front of her when I finish. I don't know where that all came from, but I'm guessing from the look on her face that it was the right thing to say. There are tears in her eyes that she doesn’t try to blink away. She nods, and we meet in a hug.

Chapter 1: Wednesday- Assault

“Hey, apple-butt! You gonna be around tomorrow?” I call when I’m done beating Thunderlane at darts.

“Might be,” Applejack answers from her spot at the bar. “Why?”

“I’m thinking about going for a run. Wanna come?” I haven’t seen her in a few days. She’s been busy doing whatever it is farm ponies do, and I’ve been helping fight off an Everfree storm that just didn’t want to go away, but I’m awesome, so the situation is under control now.

“I might. Come by ‘round lunchtime, and I’ll see where I’m at.”

“Sounds good.” I grin. That’s code for ‘if AJ doesn’t have her chores done, then I can take a nap until she’s finished.’ I give her a hoof bump and walk toward the door. It was fun to hang out for a bit and relax, but I hear a cloud calling my name.

I’m not the first one to leave tonight. Cloudkicker left a while ago. It’s still kind of early though, so I’m kinda thrown off when I get outside and see Big Mac leaning against a wall across the empty street. He usually posts up at the bar with a pitcher and stays there until closing time on the rare occasions he decides to come out, but I don’t remember seeing him inside at all. Plus, he doesn’t look like he’s leaving. He looks like he’s waiting for somepony.

“Evenin’ Rainbow Dash,” he says. He sounds just like he always does, but something feels weird.

“Hey, Mac. You good?” I ask carefully. Letting Mac realize that I’m weirded out over nothing would be the definition of not cool.

“Yyyyep. I’m just fine. Can I walk you home?”

Has he seriously been out here waiting to ask me if he can walk me to my cloudhouse?

“Uh, thanks for the offer, but I was just gonna fly,” I answer, spreading my wings and doing a little feather wave at the same time. He gives my wings a look that makes me instantly pin them back to my sides. “Catch you later,” I say awkwardly and turn away. I just want to go around the corner and take off where he can’t see me.

I hear him push off the wall and start to follow me, his heavy hooves thudding in the dirt and quickly closing the distance between us. I turn to glare at him again and ask what the fuck he thinks he’s doing, but the words get stuck in my throat.

His eyes are weird. That expression from before when was looking at my wings is still kind of there, but it’s worse now. It makes me feel...dirty, and not in a good way. I mean, my wings are awesome, and lots of ponies like to look at them. I don’t usually have a problem with that, but this is different. Mac’s never looked at me like that. Mac’s never looked at anypony like that.

“You sure you can make it back all that way?” He asks as he steps up beside me, closing the distance between us way too fast.

I can feel the pressure of his side resting on my back because of how tall he is. He’s ridiculously hot like he’s on fire. The places where his coat touches mine instantly feel gritty and gross. He smells like sweat, and dirt, and booze. I’m going to have to take a shower when I get home; a cloudbath is not going to be enough to get the stink and grime off me.

“You had a lot to drink,” he continues.

That is total bullshit. I had four, maybe five rounds of cider in the last few hours. Plus, I’m pretty sure I could drink him under the table any day of the week. Wonderbolts aren’t exactly known for being careful with their party habits, and I keep up just fine.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I say and take a huge step away from him. “Thanks though.”

Even after my huge step to the side, he's still standing way too close. I can't take off with him basically standing right on top of me- not without hurting him anyway. So, I start walking again, trying to get enough space to really spread my wings without hitting him. I don’t care if he looks anymore. I just want to get away from him and go home.

The featherbrain decides to stick with me! Right next to me. He’s not really leaning on me, just walking close enough that we’re touching and there’s that pressure of him on my back again. It’s weird. He’s never got in my space like this before. Nopony has.

“You wanna go out sometime?” He asks.

It takes me a few seconds to decide that he’s being serious, but there’s no joking or sarcasm in his huge green eyes. He’s the same serious Mac he always is. I can’t tell if he’s drunk or not. He smells like a bar, but he’s walking just fine. Either way, he must be out of his apple-loving mind.

“Umm...thanks for the offer Mac,” I say stepping away from him again, making sure to do it an angle, so I keep moving down the street. “But that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“No offense, but you’re not exactly my type.” I think about telling him that I’d rather go out with his sister than him, but that doesn’t seem like a good idea right now.

“Cuz I’m not a pegasus?”

I stop walking to roll my eyes at him. He’s being an idiot. The fact that I’ve pretty much only ever dated pegasi is a total coincidence, and it doesn’t matter right now anyway. Plus, it’s none of his damn business. “Seriously?,” I snap at him and start walking away again.

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks.

I wonder if he hit his head at work today or something. Pinkie Pie practically gave me a parade the day she found out that I’m a fillyfooler. Everypony knows it. I know that Mac knows it. It’s Ponyville, so I’ve never felt like I had to try and hide it, but Mac is acting like a stallion asking out one of the gayest mares in Equestria just makes sense.

I stop walking to look him in the face and give my best ‘are you really drunk off your hooves or are you just being stupid?’ look. He doesn’t notice. He just keeps looking at me with that weird look in his eyes, like I’m supposed to give him some big explanation about why I won’t go out with him; like it’s not enough that I just told him no. I have to give him a reason.

For the first time in a long time, I realize how big Mac is. He’s huge. He’s leaning toward me like a boulder about to go tumbling down a mountain or something. I can hear every breath he’s taking and almost feel every time he breathes out. Plus, his smell is stinging my nose and making me feel even more crowded. That same prickling feeling goes up my spine again. The feeling that I need to get away from him is quickly changing from something fueled by weirdness to something with a little flame of panic underneath it.

We’re in the middle of the deserted marketplace, which is almost the exact opposite direction from my house. I really wasn't paying attention to where I was going before, but it’s no big deal, right? Because I’m Rainbow Fucking Dash, and it will take me like 7 seconds to get across town. I just need this damn thickhead to give me enough space to take off.

“I’m not into stallions, Mac,” I tell him bluntly. I give him a shove, mostly because I just want to get some space. “You’re a cool enough dude and everything, but stallions just aren’t my thing. Sorry.”

“How do you know?” he says, just as serious as ever, and instantly closes the little gap my shove made between us, pressing against me harder this time.

Now I wish I hadn’t touched him at all. The weird just keeps getting weirder, like starting to get scary weird. It’s not like Mac talks that much, but I’ve known him long enough to know that he definitely sounds different. Trying to figure out tone has never been a thing I really cared about. So, even though he sounds different, I really have no clue exactly why or what to say to him about it. It’s like I don’t know this guy at all. I just know that he’s still standing way too close, and talking way too weird, and it’s starting to freak me out.

“What?” I ask trying not to sound distracted as I start looking around for other ponies or any way to get away from him, but the stalls are all empty. The lights are all out, except for maybe one across the street by Rarity’s, but I can’t really tell.

“How do you know you don't like a stallion? Ever give one a shot?”

I went on a really awkward date with a colt back in flight school. That was enough. “Not really,” I answer, “but I know. Ok?”

Before I’m done saying the words, everything changes. He really starts leaning on me and kind of pushing me down a little side street. The shift is so sudden that my mind doesn’t know what do with it, but every weird feeling I’ve had since I left the bar is suddenly a blaring alarm in my brain telling me to get away. My heart starts racing and I can taste something weird in my mouth. Not adrenaline- I know what that tastes like. This is fear. I’ve been afraid before, but I’ve never been so scared I could taste it.

This doesn’t make any sense. Even as my body freaks out and every physical part of me is working to get away, my mind is trying to figure out what the hell is going on and how to make it stop. This is Mac! He’s just not the kind of guy that goes around doing this kind of stupid stuff. Maybe it’s just a prank or something. My brain wants to believe that, but every other part of me knows it isn’t true.

I can't see his face through the darkness, but I’m sure that strange look is still there. I also can’t really see where I am. Every time I try to move away so I can get my bearings, he closes the distance between us. I try to push him back, but it’s like trying to move a mountain. I feel like I’m caught in a massive current or something, just trying to stay on my hooves until it stops. I try to move faster and get space that way, but there isn’t enough time. Plus, he’s practically knocking me off my hooves with every step he takes, so I can barely stay standing let alone try to get my hooves under me enough to run.

He pushes me until, with a loud thud, I’m crushed up against the rough wood plank wall of one of the empty stands.

“Mac! What gives?” I demand, turning to face him head-on.

“I’m hopin’ you do,” he answers with a dangerous little smile. He rears, hooking one foreleg under my chin, and slams me with all his earth pony might back against the wall.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for him to be so damn fast. I’m one of the fastest, most agile ponies in Equestria, but somehow I let him get me pinned. It took less than a second and now I can barely breathe. The only way I’m getting out of this is if he backs off or the wall behind me breaks into pieces. I can hear the wood creaking and straining, trying to splinter under the sudden impact and weight. I hope it breaks because I’m pretty damn sure now that Mac isn’t going to stop.

“Stop it, Mac!” I try to yell but he’s still choking me with his foreleg, so, all that comes out is a pathetic, raspy little gasp.

He shuts me up by shoving his tongue down my throat, so I bite him hard. I feel my teeth break the skin and taste his blood in my mouth, which instantly makes me want to spit and I let go. He yelps but he doesn’t go anywhere. His breath is like smoke on my face. It’s too hot and it reeks.

His massive body is everywhere. One of his forehooves is planted to the side of my head bracing him against the wall. The other foreleg is still pressed across my neck so I can barely breathe. I can barely move my head at all. It makes it hard to keep my mouth away from his because he apparently didn’t get the message from my bite. He’s still trying to kiss me again.

I feel something creeping against my stomach. It’s his cock. It’s staring up at me and growing bigger by the second. He’s freaking huge. As panicked as I am, and as much as I want to get away, I can’t stop myself from taking half a second to just be grossed out. Dicks are disgusting. I’ve always hated it in the summer when things are just hot, and the stallions are all hanging out. It’s not their fault. It’s not like there’s anything they can do about it. It’s just fucking gross.

I’ve helped out at Sweet Apple Acres enough times that this definitely isn’t the first time I’ve seen Mac’s penis, but it’s the first time I’ve seen him hard. It makes me want to vomit. It also makes me realize exactly how much more panicked I should be. This isn’t just Mac being drunk and weird. This is way worse. That soft but firm creeping sensation moving up the underside of me triggers a whole new kind of fight response. I have got to get out of this.

“This isn’t funny, Mac,” I manage to say and put as much hate into the words as I can manage. I really don’t want him to know that I’m scared, but my voice shakes and kind of cracks anyway. “Let me go.”

Then he nips me. He nips me on my damn neck like we’re some cute couple on a date. The instinct to take off is screaming in my brain. If I can just get in the air, I’ll be ok. But the nanosecond my wings unfurl he pins them against the wall. I hear a terrible crunch and pain shoots from my wingtips to my spine and back. Dark bubbles dance around the edges of my eyes until it’s almost completely black. There's no way he didn't just break something. My back arches and I try to twist away in response to the pain. My body is trying to pull my wings out from under his huge, heavy hooves but all that happens is a whole bunch of feathers gets ripped and torn from my wings.

Then he laughs. It’s more of a stupid, country boy giggle. “I heard that you pegasi like having your wings kissed,” he says. Then he does it. He puts his disgusting mouth on my wing! He nibbles his way along my leading edge and licks it. The slick, slurping sound of his tongue on my feathers triggers my gag reflex, but with his leg across my throat I can’t even throw up.

I want to rear up and kick him right in that massive shaft of his, but I can't move. I want to headbutt him, but he has my wings pinned too tight. If I try something like that it’ll probably kill me, and I'm not in the mood to die. Plus, he’s still managing to choke me somehow.

“Did you like that?” He asks softly into my ear. I think he's trying to use some husky, sexy voice crap on me. He nibbles on the sensitive edge of my ear.

“No. Now let me go.” I try to say through the chokehold. I try to push him off with my forehooves, but he’s massive. There’s just no way. I’m strong for a pegasus, but he’s a huge earth pony and it makes all the training I’ve done feel like a sick joke. He just leans into me harder. What little space I had to move is gone. Now all there is is his gross, disgusting, hard dick stuck between us and his hot, panting breath in my ear.

“Oh come on,” he hums sweetly. His breath sends a fresh bunch of prickles of fear and anger across every inch of me. “Stop actin’ like you don’t like it. You don’t even know. You might really like it if you tried it. I know you like a challenge. Let’s see if you can take it all.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mac. Let me go,” I squeak past the awkward pressure against my throat.

He pulls his barrel back. For just a second I feel a rush of relief and I think I’ve got a chance. I brace to move. Then he slams his barrel forward again. There’s a massive crunching sound that comes from my chest as much as from the cracking wall behind me. I feel things snap inside me, and I gasp desperately for a breath that I can’t catch.

“Ain’t no call for ugly talk like that,” he whispers gently in my ear again.

Then, he shifts his back hooves widening his stance, so his muzzle lowers to the place where my shoulder meets my neck. His penis slides down and away. Again, for a second my brain races. I let myself hope that it’s all over. He’s going to let me go and this will all just be a weird thing we take a few weeks to get over, then we never talk about again.

Just before his dick flops free, it slides between my lower lips, and the worst feeling of the night washes over me. Nothing he’s done makes me want to vomit as much as realizing suddenly that I’m wet down there.

Instantly, I feel even less able to handle this. What the hell? It must be from trying to fight him off or something because I am definitely not turned on. I like it rough sometimes, but that isn’t what this is. This is just wrong, but my body's betraying me anyway. I never trained for how to respond to this.

I hope that he won’t notice.

He notices. As he slides himself past my slick slit, he hums happily to himself. Then, he starts to push forward again, slipping against me and rubbing my clit. I try not to respond, but it’s impossible. Having him touch me there feels like I’ve been stabbed with a flaming hot branding iron, and I flinch to get away.

“I told you you’d like it,” he says in a louder, way more confident voice. “Now, I promise I’m going to be real gentle-like. I’m going to show you that a stallion can be just as nice as a filly.”

I’m going to throw up. I wish I could make myself throw up. Maybe he’d get grossed out and leave me alone. Shame is racing through me. My mind is churning like a hurricane with thoughts blowing across it, but not in a way I can control. The more I think, the more I realize how fucked I am.

What is wrong with me? Why is my body making it seem like I want this? Why am I such a fucking idiot? Why didn’t I get away? Why is he doing this? What the fuck is happening to me? How am I going to get myself out of this?

I know that I have to get away. I have to keep fighting. I can’t just let this happen. I try to hit and kick and bite, but there’s nothing I can do. My forehooves feel like tiny, weak, little marshmallows as I pound them and push them against his sides and chest. My teeth are useless because I can’t move my head. Plus, I’m trying to suck in what little air my aching chest can handle.

His shoulders tense. Something really bad is about to happen.

“Mac,” I try to yell at him. “N-” That’s all I manage to get out.

No more talking.

He flips me around like a steer at a rodeo, slams his hooves around my flanks and forces me onto himself. I scream out in breathless pain. Then again in shame at how easy it was for him to plunge his huge cock deep inside me.

I feel like my entire body is full of him, like there isn’t even room for me anymore, like my stomach and guts are going to come forcing their way out of my mouth, because there’s nowhere else for them to go. It’s like he shoved a cannon up my tail end that scraped or broke every part of my insides on the way.

I want him out. I don’t care if it means I have to explode, or disappear, or die to make it happen. I want him out of me. I want him off of me.

I try to twist away, but he shoves his hips forward driving even deeper. My head and chest crash into the splintering wood wall. The planks groan but still don’t give. The force of his thrust presses all of the air out of me. Everything feels way too tight. My lungs are sucked in on themselves. My head is smashed into the wall. The worst part is having him inside me, stretching me so far that I feel like I’m going to rip apart, but I can’t do it. I’d gladly rip myself into a million pieces just to not have him inside me anymore.

I try to scream again, not that there's anypony in this part of town to hear it, but I can’t catch a breath. Still, he wraps one foreleg around my throat and chokes me. The other he snakes around my barrel. My wings are half folded, but he's got them pinched somehow. If he puts even a little more pressure on them, I think they'll just snap off.

He thrusts his hips again, slamming me into the wall and a shower of splinters falls on my face. I feel a fresh, wet pain. Something jagged scrapes across my forehead. Then he does it again. Over and over again. My head catches on the sharp thing on some thrusts, but not on others.

I’m still trying to fight, but it’s pointless. I’m being rut. Hard. Like a dirty whore. And there is nothing I can do about it.

Everything hurts. My soul hurts like it’s being ripped from my body. I let myself start to cry and I try to scream. I have to find some way to fight back, but there’s nothing. He’s too big. He’s too strong. He’s too close. I can’t make it stop.

I keep thinking and hoping I’ll pass out from either the pain or the chokehold, but every time I start to see stars he eases up just enough to bring me back.

“It ain’t no fun if you’re sleepin’, sugar,” he says. “You just keep fightin’ me. It’s more fun that way.”

If I ever manage to look AJ in the eye again, I’m going to have to tell her to never, ever call me sugar. Part of my brain can’t believe that I’m even thinking about AJ right now. I should be trying to fight back. I should be trying to get away, and I am. I’m trying to kick, and scream, and bite, and wrench but it doesn’t matter. It isn’t helping. Maybe that’s why my brain is trying to go somewhere else, to think about anything except for what’s happening that I can’t stop. It doesn’t work. Having Applejack’s face flash through my mind just makes everything so much worse.

It takes forever. Eventually, he decides to clamp down the leg he has wrapped around my barrel and lift me off the ground so that he can stand to his full height. Now there’s even more pressure on my neck and chest making it even harder for me to breath. Plus, whatever stuff cracked inside me earlier starts screaming even louder at suddenly being used as a pressure point to slide me up and down on his shaft.

“Why won’t you just cum?” His angry voice rips through my silent screams. He slams me down even harder. I feel myself rip wide open. The pain is almost enough to knock me out. Almost. “Ain’t I been nice?” he asks doing it again.

I start praying to whatever Gods are listening that he’ll just kill me. That he’ll get so frustrated that he doesn’t ease up on my neck fast enough, or that any of the injuries he’s given me will make me bleed enough to just let me die.

“Didn’t I hold you close and kiss you like you wanted?” His grip on my neck gets tighter, and things start to go black again. Every time he asks a question, I get slammed up into the wall again. I’m literally getting pounded at both ends. “Ain’t I waited? Ain’t I been a good stallion and done everythin’ right? Didn’t I get you all excited and give you exactly what you wanted?”

I close my eyes and try to imagine what it will feel like to die. I imagine blue skies and warm breezes. I imagine never feeling stuck or restrained again. I’ve never wanted to die before. Living was way too awesome, but not anymore. Not after this. Death would be freedom. Death would mean I could just forget all of this.

“Well, I don’t want to wait anymore!” He huffs into my shoulder.

He releases the chokehold and I drop to the ground. I catch my breath and let out a weak and raspy scream for help. All thoughts of dying disappear. I have to fight. I know it.

He grabs me again and uses his huge hoof to force my shoulders forward, My front legs buckle and my knees crash into the dirt. The leg around my barrel slides back and lifts my hips, so I’m muzzle down and rump up, just the way he wants me.

He slams forward again. Somehow it’s a whole new kind of pain. It feels like he shoved a knife deep inside me and is cutting me open. He just keeps shoving himself deeper and harder than before. I scream while he stabs me again, and again, and again.

I’m sobbing as I try weakly to fight back. It’s useless. I have nothing left to give, but I keep trying. I keep twisting. I keep screaming for him to stop. My wings keep twitching. None of it matters. None of it helps.

“Shut the fuck up and get rut, Rainbow Dash,” he hisses at me. “Just take it like a good mare is supposed to.” Then he takes a mouthful of my mane and pulls hard making me scream again. “Almost there,” he says proudly around the mouthful of my mane.

I want to vomit. I want to throw up and then I want to die.

Chapter 13: Friday- Applejack

Applejack knocks at the kitchen door. I know it’s AJ, because nopony else would make it sound like the doors about to fly off the hinges just by knocking.

“I’ll get it,” I say. “Hang on AJ! Be right there!”

Rarity huffs at me as I slowly get up, and walk out toward the door. “Must you shout?”

“Yes, Marshmallow. I must!” I say with my muzzle pointed at the ceiling as I walk out of the room. I give my tail a pretentious little flick right as I walk out the door, that totally would have completed the uppity vibe I was going for if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

AJ brought a wagon full of food with her. Literally. It’s Applebloom’s old wagon, and it’s full.

“What’s all this for?” I ask.

“Just shut up and let me in, would ya?”

“Ok, but don’t let Rarity see that thing in her kitchen.” I move out of the way, and Applejack rolls in.

“I won’t tell, if you won’t.” She says with a wink. AJ looks like she’s been trying to manage applebuck season all by herself again. She’s got dark circles under her eyes. She’s shaking just a little, like pulling the wagon into the kitchen zapped the last energy she had. I pull out a chair for her.

“You want anything?” I ask as she sits down and tosses her stetson on one of the other chairs.

“There’s some cider in the bottom of the wagon; I’ll take one.”

I open the bottle and give it to her. Then I start putting stuff away. I honestly don’t know how I know where stuff goes. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m putting everything away wrong, but I don’t think so. It feels kinda good to be up, and moving, and doing something helpful. “You doin’ ok?” She asks.

“Yeah, for the most part. You?”

“It’s been a rough day.”

“Guards?”

“Knockin’ on the door before the sun was even up. I’m a bit surprised they didn’t try to drag Granny Smith into town with ‘em. Not that she’d go. She told ‘em to stop botherin’ everypony and just get on with whatever they’re gonna do to Mac.”

“She’s really pissed, huh?”

“Yeah, Rainbow. Granny raised me and Mac for the most part. Apples founded this town, and Granny takes pride in knowing that it’s a safe place for ponies. Mac ruined that. Not to mention that she’s hotter than a pepper that he messed with one of my friends.”

“Sorry, AJ.”

“What for Dash? It ain’t your fault.”

“I just don’t like that Granny, and you, and the farm, and Apple Bloom are all getting messed up in this too. It feels like it’s my fault.”

“You sit your rainbow flank down and listen to me,” she scolds me and I do what I’m told. “You know that ain’t true. Thanks to you and Rarity, the farm ain’t behind hardly at all. The fellas that came ‘round today all said they’d keep helpin’ even though we can’t really afford to pay ‘em. They set up a schedule and everything.

“Bloom is alright. She told me what you said this morning- what you said to Scootaloo about not turning on her because of what Mac did. That means a lot Dash.” AJ gives me a long, serious look. It’s one of those times where she could say what she’s actually feeling, but that isn’t her style, so she shakes her head and sips her cider then says, “She’ll be alright.

“Granny is fired up, but she’ll settle and we’ll figure it out. I’d sure like to buck Mac into next week, but that ain’t gonna happen. Other than that I’m just fine. I’m just worried about two of my best friends, and what my fool brother did to them. That’s all.”

That’s a lot of words for Applejack. I try to take a second and take them all in. I keep thinking she’s going to be mad at me. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what, Sugarcube?”

“If I did what he said? If I set him up? If I flirted with him just a little? If I’m totally 100% sure it was Mac? If there isn’t any chance he just did something to bruise my big ego and this is how I’m getting back at him?”

AJ laughs -a full, deep, sad laugh- right in my face. “Sugarcube,” she says wiping a little tear from the corner of her eye, “not to be funny, but you're gayer than a rainbow. Always have been. Mac knew it. Not to mention that it wouldn’t matter if you had set him up, flirted with him, or invited him into the barn with bow wrapped around your ass. You said no, and that should’a been it. No matter what else happened. All it takes is one look at you, and I know the tale their spinnin’ ain’t right. And that manure about Rarity is just a bunch of Flim Flam Foolishness.”

“Do you really believe that, Applejack?” Rare asks from the doorway.

It startles both of us, but AJ recovers quickly. “‘Course I do.” she reaches out to give Rare a side hug. “What I just couldn’t figure when they were askin’ me all them questions today is: why they just can’t believe you could do what you did on your own.”

I think Rares is going to make herself some tea, but she pours a glass of wine instead. “Can I have one?” Rares nods and Applejack gives me the eyebrow. “What? It’s good.”

“I’m blamin’ the head wound,” AJ says holding her sideways glance.

“Ouch.” I exaggerate my wince, which is only half fake.

“Too soon?” she asks a little too seriously with her ears half folded back.

“Maybe a little.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool. It was funny.” Rares puts the glass in front of me and sits across the table from me. “Did you get it done?” I ask.

“Near enough for today,” she sighs.

AJ gives me the same kind of look Pinkie did earlier. Rare is in rough shape and Applejack’s noticed, but it’s not like we can really talk about it right now anyway- not with Rarity sitting right there staring off into the distance through her wine glass. All I can do is nod and hope AJ believes that I’m actually trying to be helpful. AJ glances back over at Rarity, then gives me one more skeptical look before she moves on. “How you feelin’ RD? You look like you’re more bruise than pony..”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel,” I answer with a small shrug.

AJ lowers her head, and her ears fold back. I don’t think she expected me to be so honest. Normally, I’d just say that I’m awesome, and we’d move on. But there’s no point in trying to lie like that right now. Every time I move I can feel where I’m hurt. Leaning in to take a sip from my glass stretches my broken ribs. Sitting on this chair reminds me that my tail end basically got ripped apart. I’m looking across the table at a beautiful unicorn that hasn’t slept in days, because she’s worried I’m going to be attacked by things that go bump in the night. There’s just no point in acting like things aren't fucked up right now. Plus, AJ hates it when I lie.

“I’m sorry, Rainbow,” Applejack says so quietly that I can barely hear her. “More sorry than I’ll ever be able to say.”

“Get your apple-pickin’ eyes off the table and look at me,” I say in a ‘we’re gonna talk about this right now’ tone of voice that I learned from her.

She looks up, and I almost decide to back down. AJ doesn’t cry, but she’s about to. Her eyes have tears at the edges that she’s either too tired or too sad to fight back. I’m getting pretty good at this speech though, so it doesn’t bother me, but I try to make my tone more gentle but not too much gentle because that would piss her off. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize to me for something that isn’t your fault. I don’t wanna hear it, especially from you, because I know it isn’t true. It isn’t your fault. It isn’t Rarity’s fault. It isn’t anypony’s fault except mine and Mac’s. Ok?”

“It isn’t your fault either, Rainbow Dash,” Rare says sharply. She’s glaring at me.

“She’s right, Rainbow,” Applejack says. She’s glaring at me too. She was looking a little better until I got to that last bit of my speech. “If it ain’t my fault for not walkin’ you out of that bar, then it sure as hell ain’t your fault for doin’ nothin’ wrong.”

The water in my eyes is hot, and it burns all the way down my face. I hate that I’m crying before I even have a chance to try and stop it. “I should have flown away,” I say through gritted teeth. “I should have realized he was fucked up and got away. Or, I should have fought back more. I’ve saved Equestria how many times, and I couldn’t fight to save myself?”

“How dare you.” Rares voice is quiet. It bites at me, and I can’t not look at her. “How dare you, Rainbow Dash. How dare you try to take the blame for this. You did nothing wrong. You have done nothing wrong.

“What exactly do you believe you should have done? Had the gift of premonition? Been strong enough to overpower a stallion three times your size? Tried to fly away? If I’m not mistaken, you did that, and he proceeded to crack every bone in your beautiful, powerful wings, which nearly killed you. So, what exactly is it that you are trying to convince yourself you should have done?”

Part of me knows she’s right. The rest of me knows she’s wrong. I am not the mare I thought I was. I’m nothing but a weak, broken, piece of trash that some stallion decided to use as a glory hole. If I wasn’t, then none of this would have happened.

So, I yell at her. I yell the stuff I’ve tried to keep to myself or acknowledge in little ways that make it seem like -even though I was having the thoughts- they were no big deal. I yell with the full fury and hatred I feel for myself right now. “I should have died, Rarity! That’s what I should have done! I should have flapped my useless, stupid wings and died! Then none of us would be in this mess!”

I regret the words the second they are out of my mouth, but there’s no taking them back. They snap through the room like a whip. AJ looks freaked out and sad, but Rarity looks pissed like she’s one-hundred percent ready to fire back at me and tell me how stupid I’m being.

Then, in a blink of her big blue eyes, she shuts down. All of the anger and worry get sucked down inside of her, and perfect control rises in their place. Her face relaxes into that stupid, placid smile of hers. On the surface, her eyes are bright and calm; but behind that, they’re stony; and behind that, there’s rage that I never would have noticed before. But, now I know her well enough not to miss it, which makes me even angrier. We did this dance earlier, and she said she wouldn’t shut down on me again. But the anger only lasts for a second and is quickly replaced by guilt, because I know I deserve it this time.

I wish she would just yell at me. That would be easier to handle. Instead, without saying a word, she stands and puts her glass in the sink. Then she gives AJ a quick nuzzle and says in a crisp, clear, perfectly neutral voice, “Thank you for your help with the groceries Applejack, please let me know what I owe you.”

AJ eyes shift from Rare to me and back again. This is exactly the kind of thing Applejack hates. She’d rather just have everypony say whatever it is they have to say and move on. Thank Celestia, she’s learned over the years that her way doesn’t work for everypony, especially Rarity. So, instead of trying to call Rare out for shutting down, AJ says in her lame attempt at mirroring Rarity’s tone, “Call it payment for Sweetie’s work on the farm today. She really put her effort in.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted with the compliment. Thank you. I believe I shall retire for the evening. Please do be careful on your way home, and give Granny my best.”

“You got it. G’night Rarity.”

Then Rare walks around the table and gently nuzzles the top of my head. “Please make sure the doors are locked before you come up.”

“K.” I sound hollow because having her treat me like I didn’t just blow up in her face makes me feel like a foal who just disappointed their mom. It sucks.

We sit and listen to Rarity’s measured hoofsteps as she climbs the stairs. Applejack is looking at me like she can’t decide if she’s going to feel bad for me or punch me in the face for being an idiot. It’s only when we hear the soft thud of Rarity’s bedroom door closing that AJ finally shakes her head and laughs at me again. It isn’t the deep, automatic laugh from earlier. It’s more of a scoff with just a little smirk mixed in. “Boy howdy,” she whistles. “When you blow a gasket, you make sure to take out the whole engine with you, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” I try to sound tough, but it doesn’t work. I didn’t mean to lose my cool with Rarity, but now it’s gone, and I’m not sure how to get it back. And having Applejack laugh at me isn’t helping, especially because it isn’t her real laugh. It isn’t even the laugh she usually uses when I do something dumb or annoying. It’s a weird laugh that’s trying to cover up the fact that she isn’t sure how to react to what just happened.

She leans forward to give me her serious face. “You know it ain’t your fault, right?”

I can’t answer that, because she doesn’t want to hear the real answer. Not really. Because part of me really does think it’s my fault. No matter how many times I think through everything that happened and decide that I didn’t do a damn thing wrong and Mac must have some stuff going on in his brain or something that he should have talked about or something, there’s still that voice whispering in my head. The one that tells me I must have done something. I did something to make it happen. Good stallions don’t just go crazy for no good reason. I did something to deserve it. I must have.

Applejack sits back and gauges my non-answer for a minute. She’s got that face again. Like at the guard station when she decided not to hug me too hard. It’s that face that says things are different now. She never would have let me get away with not answering a direct question before, but now she doesn’t know if she can push me. I hate that face, but I’m also kind of glad she’s making it because I really don’t want to answer her question.

“She saved your life, Rainbow,” she says, obviously deciding to shift gears.

I take a little breath. “I know.”

“She saved your life, and you just yelled at her that you wish she didn’t. You just told her that you’d have all of us cryin’ at your funeral than tryin’ to figure out how to help y’all get through this mess and heal.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

“I know,” Applejack says softly. “That’s why I told you.”

“Thanks.”

“You betcha. Time for me to go?” she starts turning like she’s going to stand up.

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” I ask quickly.

“Why in Equestria would I want to sit around and talk about why you just lost your wheels with Rarity?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant the other thing.”

“Oh…” she rubs the back of her head. Then she stands up and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “I’ll be honest I don’t think I want to know any more than I already do. If you need to tell me, then I’ll listen, but I don’t need to know the nitty-gritty bits to know what happened, Dash.”

“You sure?”

“Yessiree.” She nods firmly. “I already know all I need or want to know for now.”

“If you decide you need to ask…”

“I know where to find you.” She shoves me a little. “Now, I’m gonna get. You alright?”

“Yeah,” I look up at the stairs. “I should go try and say sorry, I guess.”

“You know she ain’t really mad at you, right?” she says in that knowing way only Applejack can manage.

I raise my good eyebrow at her. “You did just see me yell at her, right?”

“Yep.” AJ nods.

“And you saw her go ice queen on me, right?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head this time. “I saw her do the thing all of us got taught in school. I saw her count to ten and walk away before she said somethin’ she’d regret later.”

“Well...shit.”

Now, AJ laughs her real laugh. The one that comes in just a little higher pitch than her normal speaking voice, and sounds just a bit more like a giggle than Applejack will ever admit. “Well,” she says as she puts her hat back on her head. “She’s a prissy little pony, but she’s your prissy little pony now. You’d better go make nice, so you both can get some sleep.” She raises a hoof that I bump as she walks toward the door. “I’ll show myself out.”

“AJ?” I call just before she walks out the door.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful, k?”

We share a look. It only lasts a few seconds, but they’re long seconds, and it’s a serious look. We don’t tell each other to be careful. Applejack is the toughest pony I know, but right now I’m worried about what will happen to her if there’s somepony waiting outside for her. I’m worried that if she isn’t careful, or if I’m not there to look out for her, then something bad is going to happen. I’ve taken the long, looping way home a thousand times just so I could watch over my friends when they were walking home after a party at Pinkie’s. I always make sure everypony gets home safe. It’s kind of my thing, but I can’t do that now, and it freaks me out.

Applejack nods. “You got it.”

Then she’s gone, and it’s just me alone in the kitchen. I put Applejack’s empty bottle in the trash and wash the wine glasses. I even put them away. I lock the door and make sure the door in the shop is locked. It’s early. The sun hasn’t even set yet, which is good. I’d hate to do this in the dark. I make sure the lights are all off and head up the stairs.

Rare is in the shower. She should be singing, but she isn’t. I close the bedroom door behind me and go to the bathroom. The shower curtain isn’t pulled all the way closed. So, she can see me when I stop in the doorway. I should probably say something, but I don’t know what to say yet.

For a few seconds, we just stand in like that with only the noise of the shower to fill the silence. Then she says, “Would you like to get in before the hot water is all gone?”

I nod, and she goes back to washing her mane. I use the step to climb into the tub, while she closes the bathroom door. She moves to the side, so I can step into the water. It’s hotter than I expected, but it feels good. Some of the muscles that are aching from just sitting around all day start to relax, and the other ones that ache for different reasons start to loosen up too- but they don’t stop hurting.

“May I wash your mane?” she asks quietly. Her voice isn’t falsely controlled and polite anymore. She sounds sad, but not upset. The walls she threw up downstairs are already gone.

I nod to her question, but instead of reaching for the shampoo with her magic, she uses her hooves and pulls a bunch of suds out of her own mane and rubs them into mine. How many times have we done this now? Why does it feel like a first? Is it because I’m not freaking out? Because I’m not taking a shower because I feel like I need to wash something off me? Because I just want to be close to her? Why doesn’t it feel weirder that she just shared her shampoo with me? Do I just want to fix what I did downstairs?

The questions flash through my mind and disappear like bubbles popping into nothingness. It feels too good to have her hooves on me to worry about why it feels good. When she’s done with my mane, I step into the water again to rinse.

“Tail?” she asks, and I nod.

“Want me to do yours?” I ask when she’s done lathering my tail, all the while being careful not to pull anything or make me uncomfortable. She was just washing her mane when I walked in, so I know that she hasn’t done the rest of her routine yet. She must have just been standing in the shower for a while calming down. Plus, she had to get her makeup off and stuff.

“If you don’t mind,” she says.

I wrap our tails together for a second then pull mine away slowly, because yanking mine out like I usually do would hurt. Her tail gets covered in the excess soap. It’s a nifty little trick somepony showed me in the shower at Chateau Dash after a date one time.

While I’m working the bubbles through her tail, she makes sure mine is all rinsed out. While she’s rising hers, I look for the body wash. I see the tub of orange industrial stuff, but that isn’t what she uses.

“The lavender one,” she says with a nod toward a tiny little bottle with a flower on it. I pop it open and put a little on her back. Not a lot though, I’m guessing it’s one of those a little goes a long way things, and I’m right. It smells really good. I’m a little surprised she’s letting me do this. There are only a few places on her that I’m too shy to touch, and she takes care of those quickly without making anything weird. Then we switch.

“Would you like the same?” The stuff she used smells good, but it isn’t really me.

“What else you got?”

A basket floats over, and she pulls out a blue bottle this time. It’s gotta be a leftover from a coltfriend, but it doesn’t smell too much like a dude. I like it, so I nod.

It doesn’t even feel she’s trying to get me clean. It’s more like she’s giving me a massage, which she probably is because I’m not really dirty and working out my knots and stuff was one of the things the doctor recommended I do as often as I can. I’m just getting clean as a bonus.

Rarity gives me that warning/asking for permission look, and I nod. Then does the magic thing on my wings so that she can wash my sides. She even asks if I’m ok with her massaging my flanks. I blush a little, but it feels good, and I hurt back there. Plus, it’s not like she hasn’t touched me there before over the past couple of days. She’s calm and professional. It’s like she’s channeling her inner Aloe and Lotus. She doesn’t even smirk at my blush. She just ignores it and lets me keep it to myself.

I feel like a new little pony when I rinse off. The water is starting to get cold, so we get out. She sprays us both down with detangler and leave-in conditioner. I brush her coat while she brushes her mane and tail. Then she brushes me all over.

This is our ritual now, and I’m glad she let me do it. She’s right about there being something calming about it. I know things are messed up, but it doesn’t feel like she’s mad at me. It just feels like she’s tired and a little sad. I know I made her sad, but I’m not the only reason she’s sad, and she isn’t holding what happened downstairs against me. I still feel bad though.

I lean against the doorframe and watch her do something with her mane. I’m guessing whatever she’s doing will make it so she can style her hair the normal way tomorrow. The magical cover-up thing is gone. It’s easy to see her bruises through her white coat; my hoofprints on her chest, my bite at the base of her neck, and the long edge of the bedside table on her back.

“How’s your head?” I didn’t even think about the chunk of glass she had stuck in there last night until now.

“No pain to speak of,” she says. “That maneuver with the mint seems to have done wonders for it. Thank you.”

“No prob.”

She’s put her mane back in a ponytail with a bunch of ribbons or something wrapped and coiled into it. She did it to her tail too. It looks kinda cute like something out of a book about olden pony times- not that I’ve ever read one of those.

She puts some stuff on her face, not the green stuff she always gets at the spa that Applejack tries to eat, a lotion or something. Then her horn lights for a second and the light in the bathroom turns off.

I climb up on the bed and assume the preening position. She starts working my wings open without saying anything, but the silence isn’t bad. There’s still tension though. We aren’t fighting, but we need to talk about what happened, and I know it. So, I finally say, “I’m sorry, Rare.”

She stops what she’s doing to look at me for just a second. “Thank you, darling, but you don’t need to apologize to me.” She nuzzles my side a little then looks back down at my wing before she looks at my face again. “You are allowed to feel whatever feelings you have about what’s happened to you. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I apologize.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” I wish I could use my wing to pull her in a little, but she did that magic thing again, so I’m all tingly and mostly numb. I just fidget with my hooves a bit instead. “You were right.”

“You don’t seem terribly convinced.” Of course, she calls me out on my lackluster response. “Regardless of whether or not I am right, which of course I am, it doesn’t matter; if you continue to feel the way you’re feeling that is.”

“I know you’re right.” I try to say the words with awesomeness and conviction, but I can’t manage the lie. Especially with her looking at me like she already knows it’s a lie. “Part of me knows it anyway.”

“And the other part?” she prods gently.

“Thinks it has to be my fault. There’s just no way something like this could happen unless I did something wrong, right?”

“Wrong,” she says firmly. “And I shall remind you of that every day if I must. There is quite literally nothing you could have done to deserve what’s happened to you. There is nothing a pony could do to deserve being raped, Rainbow Dash- not one single thing. Macintosh did this. Heaven only knows why he did it, but the responsibility is his and his alone.” She says the words with such conviction that I almost believe them, but they don’t make me feel better.

“I hate being a victim,” I admit.

“I know.” She lays a careful hoof on my chest for a minute, then reaches up to nuzzle my cheek. Then she nuzzles my side one more time before she starts cleaning my feathers for what must feel like the thousandth time for her.

I’m glad she isn’t trying to make me talk anymore. She isn’t trying to tell me that I’m not a victim or that I shouldn’t be bothered by the fact that there is no explanation for what happened to me. There’s nothing to say, so she isn’t saying anything. That’s another thing I didn’t notice I liked about her before, because it isn’t always true, but sometimes Rarity knows when to stop talking and just let things be what they are.

I think about the day. All of our friends called us out in their own way. AJ and Pinkie seem to think there’s more going on than there is. Rarity and I aren’t together, but we are kinda a unit right now. So, I guess it isn’t surprising that they’d think that. Shy and Twilight have a point about the whole codependent thing- I know that- but they can shove the rest up their combined asses, and I’m going to tell them so when I see them.

Pinkie said I need to tell Rarity that I feel safe with her. I need to tell her when she’s doing something right. I try to imagine what I’d need to hear if I was the one taking care of her. I’d want to know that I wasn’t screwing shit up. Like brushing her mane or whatever. That stuff matters to Rarity. If I had to take care of her, I’d want to know that she thought I was doing a good job taking care of the things that matter to her.

The problem is that I can’t just tell Rarity she’s doing a good job and not really mean it. It’d be like somepony trying on a dress they don’t really like and telling her that they love it. Rare can spot that kind of bullshit from a mile away, and she doesn’t want it. She wants her work to be just right, and that’s the kind of thing that shows on a pony’s face way more than in anything they say. But, I suck at trying to show that kind of stuff. So, I say, “Thanks for doing such an awesome job on my wings,”

She spits a broken feather into the little pile and shrugs. There aren’t as many coming out as there were this morning, and almost none of them are bloody. “I’m sure you or Fluttershy could do a better job, but I am trying my best.”

“Fluttershy sucks at preening.”

“Oh?” Rares asks, quirking an eyebrow at me, before going back to work.

“Yeah. She’s tried to help me out a couple of times, after adventures or stuff, but she sucks. She’s too worried about hurting me, so she kinda just ruffles things around. I always end up in worse shape than when she started. Plus, she just doesn’t care about her wings like that. I mean, she takes good care of them I guess, but sometimes going to the spa is the only time she preens in a week.”

“That is abnormal?”

“Kinda. I usually preen twice a day. Gotta keep things Wonderbolt ready, right?” I feel a little twinge in my chest when I say that and remember my letter on its way to Spitfire to end my career. “That’s a bit much for most pegasi. But usually, it’s at least every other day or something. Twilight is way worse though.”

Rares laughs a little.

“I’m serious,” I go on. “She spent so much time being a ground pony that it’s like she forgets she even has wings sometimes. If she ever seriously needed to fly and her wings were like that, she could hurt something.”

That’s the second when she bites my main wing joint just enough to make it pop. “Sweet Celestia, that feels good!” She’s got this cute little smile on her face now. The same smile she gets when I’m trying on a dress that looks awesome, but I don’t want her to see how excited I am about it, because that’s not cool.

While she’s switching to the other side I ask, “Rare, would it be ok if I asked Fluttershy to bring Tank over? I miss his little wrinkled head.”

“Of course. He’s a perfect playmate for Opal. Much more robust than the others.” That’s true. Opal and Tank almost always end up playing together at our pet play dates.

“Cool, thanks.”

“Will he need anything? I could arrange the sweetest little bed for him next to Opal’s. Wouldn’t you like that Opalescence?” The cat must have heard her name because she just jumped up on the bed and tucked herself in next to my face. Now she’s flicking my muzzle with her tail.

“Hey!” I twitch my nose to try and keep from sneezing. “Fluffball! Not cool!”

Rares giggles at me. “You are truly unique, Rainbow. She likes you. She doesn’t like anypony. She isn’t even that playful with Fluttershy.”

“She likes you,” I say trying to keep the fluffy tail out of my mouth as I talk.

“She finds me useful,” Rare muses. “But I’m rarely certain she feels much more appreciation for me than that. Now, Opal, stop teasing Dashie. She’s in no position to tolerate your shenanigans, you silly thing.”

Opal stops swishing her tail in my face and hops up on my stomach instead like I’m a cloud and she’s gonna take a nap.

“Great.” I roll my eyes at the cat. “Thanks for that, Rare.”

“It’s the best that could reasonably be expected of her, darling.”

I scratch behind Opal's ear while Rares finishes my wing. “Would you like to stay like that for a while?” she asks when she’s done.

“Yeah, It feels really good to have them out. How do they look?”

“Awful,” she sighs looking down at them. “I’ve tried to hide as many of the holes as I can, but there are a few I just can’t do anything about.”

“It’s cool, Rare. Thanks for taking care of them. You’re honestly the best preening buddy I’ve ever had.”

“You’re very welcome.” She blushes a little, and I realize how what I said must have sounded. Good thing, there’s no reason to tell her that I haven’t had many, or really any, other preening buddies.

“How long until the feathers start growing back?” she asks after another minute.

“Some of the smaller ones should start showing in the next couple days. Primaries can take a month. It’s going to itch like crazy to regrow this many all at once.”

“Hmmm. I’ll ask Aloe and Lotus if they have any recommendations for speeding the process along and helping with the itching. Would that be alright with you?”

“Sure.”

“Would you like a snack?” she offers as she jumps down off the bed.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Sweet or salty?”

“Yes.” That gets me an eye roll. Then she kisses my head and leaves the room. Opal follows her out.

I focus on the feel of her magic while she’s gone. It feels a little different today like she isn’t holding on quite so tight. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

She comes back with a bag of chips, a plate of cookies, and two wine glasses. “Drinking again?” I ask.

“Yes, well. I didn’t really get to enjoy my last glass, did I?” She’s trying to tease me, but I still feel bad for yelling at her.

“Sorry about that.”

She has a cookie in her mouth and brings it to me. “It’s really alright, darling. I knew it would happen eventually,” she says as she climbs up on the bed.

I want to ask what she knew, but I have a mouth full of cookie, so I can’t. I just raise an eyebrow and hope she gets it. Meaningful looks are a Rarity thing, so she does.

“According to many of the psychology books I’ve read over the years, anger is a natural component in emotional healing. You have been swallowing your anger and pain an awful lot over the past few days, as have I. Thus, our little yelling match doesn’t seem so terribly inappropriate after all.

“Do you forgive me?” She bats her eyes and gives me a sickly sweet and innocent look.

“No,” I say blandly. The look on her face is surprising. I thought she’d be insulted, but she looks devastated instead. “I don’t need to forgive you Marshmallow,” I say quickly because I’m not sure if she’s still teasing me or not. “I need to get yelled at sometimes, so thank you.”