The Sky Gazes Back

by Posh

Rating: teen
Tags: Rainbow Dash, Suicide / Self Harm, Scootaloo, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Sad
Length: 1037

Scootaloo has a question for Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash wishes she had a good answer for her.

Scootaloo has a question for Rainbow Dash.

Rainbow Dash wishes she had a good answer for her.

Gold medalist in the Writeoff Association's January 2018 contest, written for the prompt "Lie Me A River." Cover art by Xieril, used without permission.

Edited by AndrewRogue.

Published 2018-01-30 21:00:07 UTC
Last updated 2018-01-30 21:00:07 UTC

Long Way Down

A tiny hoof prodded Rainbow Dash's flank, jarring her from a groggy half-sleep. "Rainbow? Can I ask you a question?"

"Nyum? Mwuh?" Rainbow smacked her lips and squinted at the pint-sized filly lying beside her on the cloud. "Yuh-huh. W'zup, Squirt?"

Scootaloo tucked her outstretched foreleg beneath her body, like a cat. "Back when you were a filly... if you found out that you couldn't fly, that you'd never be able to fly... what would you do? How would you deal with that?"

"Throw myself off the side of Cloudsdale," Rainbow Dash said, automatically, through a yawn. "Learn to fly, or die trying."

"...Oh. Uh, thanks."

"Anytime." Rainbow Dash shut her eyes and reclined on her back, wadding up a lump of cloud and nuzzling into it.

Then Rainbow, realizing what she'd said, froze. She abandoned her half-formed pillow, and took a long, hard look at Scootaloo. The filly's wings were half-open, flapping experimentally.

"Why're you asking?" Rainbow said, in a low, suspicious tone.

Scootaloo's body stiffened, and her wings snapped shut. "No reason!"

Rainbow Dash turned to her side, propping her head on her hoof. "Scoots, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing. Nothing's on my mind."

Rainbow frowned.

"No, I mean it. Really!" Scootaloo grinned, a little too widely. "Just thought I'd blurt out a random question – something to wake you up. 'Cuz, uh... you snore. Like a chainsaw. Like a rusty chainsaw."

"That's never bothered you before." Rainbow felt cold fingers of anxiety creeping along her neck, and she took a deep breath to ground herself. "Are you sure that nothing's wrong?"

Scootaloo hesitated before nodding. "Positive."

Rainbow softened her frown into a more sympathetic expression. "'Cuz, like, you know you can tell me if something's—"

"I know. I know, I really do." Scootaloo turned away from Rainbow Dash, gazing over the edge of the cloud, at the ground far below. "I just..."

"You just...?" Rainbow rose to her haunches. She felt sluggish, her muscles taut from disuse. "Scoots, it's just us up here."

Scootaloo didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice was thin and raspy.

"You'd seriously rather die than live without flying?"

Rainbow's eyes traced over Scootaloo's stubby, underdeveloped little wings, folded tightly against her body. She bit back a sigh, and a wince, at her prior thoughtlessness. Groggy or no, she should've thought before speaking, should've payed closer attention to the question.

And, Rainbow thought, perhaps she shouldn't have brought Scootaloo up to a cloud, the kind of setting that'd naturally bring out her self-consciousness.

"I mean, when I was a filly, maybe I would've felt that way," said Rainbow. "But you gotta understand..."

She crept closer to Scootaloo.

"You gotta understand that I was a really, really stupid filly. I knew exactly what I wanted – even if I didn't know really how to get there – and I didn't think too much about anything else. So, yeah, if I couldn't fly? That would've felt like the end of the world to me."

Her hoof cupped Scootaloo's cheek, tilting the filly's head until their eyes met.

"You don't gotta worry about that, though." Rainbow brushed back Scootaloo's mop of magenta mane. "You're tons smarter than I was at your age. Way more mature, too. Heck, you've learned stuff I didn't figure out until I was a grown-up. So, even if you never got the hang of flying, even if you just... couldn't... you'd make it. You'd find your own way to be awesome."

"...More mature than you, huh?" Scootaloo flushed, a bashful smile crossing her face. "No offense, Rainbow Dash, but that's not too hard."

"Aw, shaddap, you." Rainbow's tail whipped Scootaloo's cutie mark in a gentle, playful smack, making her yelp. "Think you're so cool, with your regular sleep schedule and your balanced diet."

"And my big sister." Scootaloo pounced at Rainbow, squeezing her in a hug. "You didn't have one of those growing up. So, I got that over you too."

"Yeah, y'see?" Rainbow pulled Scootaloo closer, with a hoof that shook almost imperceptibly. "It's like I said. You're way ahead of me, Scoots."

Scootaloo giggled, and pressed her cheek into the crook of Rainbow Dash's neck. "So... you wouldn't jump off of Cloudsdale if you couldn't figure out how to fly?"

"Ah... probably not, no."

"...Then what would you do?"

A lump formed in Rainbow's throat; with some difficulty, she swallowed it.

"I really don't know, kid. I never worried about it." A half-truth – better than another lie.

They stayed in the embrace for a few more silent minutes, before Scootaloo pulled away, and peered over the edge of the cloud again. Her face was screwed up thoughtfully, lips pursed and eyes narrowed.

"It looks like a long way down from here. Guess the fall from Cloudsdale'd be from even higher up. You'd have a long time to think about it." She paused. "Maybe to change your mind about it."

Rainbow craned her head to get a glimpse for herself. An expanse of green fields and gold-roofed houses stretched below them, carved in two by a jagged blue scar. The rivers' waters were a shade darker than the color of the sky above.

For reasons she couldn't explain – for reasons she didn't want to think too deeply about – they looked more inviting, too.

"C'mere," said Rainbow, pulling Scootaloo with her. "Let's stop thinkin' about it."

She settled down, and draped a wing over Scootaloo, who snuggled tightly against her. Gradually, the filly drifted off, her breathing prickled with a rusty little rumble of a snore.

Rainbow closed her eyes, but couldn't keep them shut. Her feathers itched, and her head felt light, as if she might swoon. She gazed out at that endless blue expanse, unmarred by any clouds besides her own. For the first time in her life, the sky didn't promise excitement. It stared into Rainbow, it stared through Rainbow, as Scootaloo's question whispered through her mind – again, and again, and again.

It was all Rainbow could do to stare right back, and clutch Scootaloo close.

Author's Note

Special thanks to the Writeoff Association for all their advice and feedback.

Don't kill yourselves, guys.