Snow fell softly, blanketing the rooftops of Manehattan in a fine sheet of white powder, making each building look like a frosted cake, glittering softly in the lights of the grand maretropolis. Carriages creaked and rustled over the streets while unicorn magic kept the cobbles clear of snow and ice, and ponies walked back and forth, chatting happily and enjoying the weather.
It was nearing midnight, but most shops were open late. It was the week before Hearth's Warming, after all, and so many were out buying last minute gifts or simply enjoying a dinner with friends, families or even special someponies.
There was one shop, however, that was closed earlier than the others, mostly because the manager needed some time to herself. She had been doing this job for nearly two years now, and she had done the same last year. Even though some businessponies tried telling her it wasn't smart, she had simply smiled and, with the down home charm she had learned from her Ma, told them that she was only one pony, and she'd be damned if she spent the week before Hearth's Warming working herself into a coma.
Of course, as it so often was, the truth was more complicated than that.
Scootaloo sighed, her deep lavender eyes looking out over the street below from her perch on the roof's edge. Last year she had done the same, moving up to the little rooftop garden her parents had ordered put in when they knew she would be taking over management of the Manehattan branch of Sweet Apple Bargains. After a wise business decision had led to her Ma, Appejack, buying out Barnyard Bargains from Diamond Tiara, they had opened the first store in Ponyville, with Diamond staying around as manager and business partner.
It still somtimes surprised Scoots, how good of a friend the snobbish pony had become, over the last decade. It had been her advice to open a Manehattan branch of the shop, and she had fully supported Scootaloo when the pegasus had told her parents that she wanted to have the manager position. Surprisingly, Applejack had been just fine with her doing so. It had in fact been Scoots' Mom, Rainbow Dash, who had tried to argue her out of it. Dash had clearly been terrified of her baby filly being out in the big city by herself, but with AJ's help, Scoots had managed to talk her down to earth.
Still, it hadn't been easy, the day she left. Applejack had been standing with tears in her eyes and a proud smile on her face, while Dash had simply stood there, staring at Scoots and so clearly trying her best to not show how upset she was. Scoots didn't blame her, and it hadn't been easy for the younger Pegasus, either. Scoots had never had much of a family, or any at all, really, until Rainbow had stepped into her life, first as an unofficial big sister, then, after she and AJ had gotten married, more than that.
Scoots could still remember the joy she had felt, nine years ago now, when the sky blue pegasus had swooped down on her while the little filly was walking back from school, grabbing her up and taking her for a flight around town, with no explanation, until they landed in front of the Ponyville orphanage. When she had seen Applejack standing there, flanked on one side by Twilight Sparkle, and the Orphanage caretaker on the other, and registered the huge grin on Rainbow Dash's face, she had felt her heart collapse, only to spring back up into her throat. The strangest sensation of joy, panic, hope, fear and, above all else, belonging had encompassed her in that moment, making her feel truly loved and accepted for the first time in her life.
Pity it hadn't lasted.
In all honesty, that feeling had been there for most of her childhood, and for four long, beautiful years, the young Pegasus had lived with her new family, feeling whole in her heart and mind. She worked on Sweet Apple Acres alongside her parents, uncle and cousin, when Dash wasn't off flying for the Wonderbolts, or she and AJ weren't at their second jobs, teaching at Twilight's school. Scootaloo grew strong, and tall. Still, she was always slender, and more than a bit of a lightweight, especially if she compared herself to Apple Bloom, who had suffered a multitude of growth spurts over a couple of years, and was suddenly the second tallest in the family, after Big Mac.
Scoots would never be that strong. It just wasn't in her genes. Pegasi were built to be light weight, their bones hollow, muscles strong, but slim, made for the most aerodynamic build possible. But, being aerodynamic wasn't helpful, for Scoots.
Her mind drifted down those sad lanes, feeling the cold winter air wash over her back, brushing through her thick, winter fuzz. Through her feathers. Her eyes drifted, idly noting the big crowd pouring out of the front door of Rarity for You, down the street. Sweetie Belle and her sister would have quite a bit of profit this year, although, that was nothing new. The shop was the most popular on the street, maybe even in the whole city.
She was sitting there, snow landing on her muzzle and shoulders, purple mane drifting in the wind along with the matching scarf her Ma had made for her, when a voice caught her attention from the street. "Scoots? W-What are you doing up there?!"
She glanced down, blinking herself back to reality, and smiled softly, seeing the tall, bipedal form of Alexei Crofter standing below.
She still remembered how odd he had looked to her the first time he walked into the shop. She knew her parents had hired someone to help around the place, and from talking with them, she knew he was a stranger, an alien creature of some sort, brought to Equestria via some wild magic. However, that had not prepared her for the oddity of his appearance, with his bipedal stance, gangly limbs, tiny eyes and that odd little patch of mane on his head, which seemed to be the only hair on his whole body. She wasn’t entirely sure of that last bit, as he seemed obsessed with wearing clothes, all the time.
She had thought him the strangest, most outlandish thing she had ever seen.
Now, though. Well, after three months of working together so closely, eight hours a day, five days a week, she knew him. She knew he found her world just as strange and odd as she had found him, and knew that it made him very uncomfortable, at times, when he was reminded of his own strangeness in her world.
She also knew that, at times, he would grow quiet and withdrawn. After the first time she asked him what was wrong, and he refused to budge, she had pushed, harder than she should have. He had whirled on her and snapped that he was fine, and it was none of her business.
They had not spoken again that day, or for several hours the following. However, as lunch time had rolled around, he had walked up to her and asked her if he could buy her lunch. He had seemed so forlorn and lost, she had agreed. Over the hayburger she was eating, and his own oatburger, he had apologized for his behaviour, and she had done so in turn. Then he had haltingly explained to her that, in his own world, he had a loving family, friends, even a girlfriend. He had been in her world for over a year now, and he knew that his family probably thought he was dead in a ditch somewhere, or worse. She wasn’t sure what could be worse than that, but had not questioned it.
He was lonely, and scared, and wanted to go home. No one here seemed to trust him, or else they were all afraid of him. He needed a friend, and she was more than willing to give him one. She hugged him, and told him it was alright. That she was sure he would get home, someday, and that until then, he could count on her to be his friend.
Now, their shared lunches were an everyday occurrence. They would laugh, and joke, and take turns paying for the food, both of them trying to one up each other. Three months, and it felt, strangely, like it had been three years and three days, all at the same time. They were the happiest three months she’d had, in a long time.
And so, smiling down at him, with his sandy blonde mane and freckled, pale skin, she gestured with a hoof. “Come on up, Alex.”
He blinked up at her. “Come up? How?” He asked, in that awesome accent of his that reminded her somehow of Trottingham.
“Up to my apartment, then to the back of the hall. The stairwell door is open, so you shouldn’t need help finding it.”
He stood for a moment, then she saw the flicker of a smile, and he headed into the shop. She heard him shut and lock the door behind himself, and she turned back to gazing out over the snow covered cityscape, a small smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.
She had never invited anyone to sit with her, on these nights, not since the last time she was at home, and she and Apple Bloom would sit up by the Earth Pony’s parents, along with Granny Smith, in their place on the hill overlooking Sweet Apple Acres. The two of them would just sit up there, keeping each other company in the solitude of their past, of not knowing the ponies responsible for bringing them into this world. AB was more like a sister to her, than an adopted cousin, and it often stung that they saw so little of each other, now.
AB was still back home, working the farm with her big sister and brother, and Sweetie Belle was more often than not off singing in some concert or other. They would still meet up every summer, after planting season was over and Apple Bloom had the time. The Earth Pony would manage the Cutie Mark Crusaders Summer Camp, and Scoots and Sweetie were always more than happy to show up for a week or two to spend with their oldest and closest friend, doing the thing that had finally earned them their own marks. But it was never quite the same, and Scoots sometimes felt in her heart that it never would be again. . . .
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of crunching boot steps in the snow on the rooftop. She did not turn from the view, but her tail swept around, brushing clear a large spot on the wall beside her. She heard him pause for a moment, then he stepped up and sat down, gently, legs dangling off the side of the building. They sat like that for a long, soft moment in the snowfall, the sounds of the city hushed around them.
She felt his eyes on her, knew he was wondering what was going on. She pursed her lips, wondering why she had asked him to come up. Why her craving for solitude had suddenly ended when she had heard his voice. But she knew why. He was a friend, and a good one, and she was tired of keeping it to herself. He had opened up to her, all those weeks ago. She felt she owed him as much, at least.
She sighed softly, breath pluming in front of her muzzle, and glanced up into the overcast sky, the city’s lights shimmering on the underside of the low, moisture-laden clouds.
“What is it, Scoots?” He asked, softly, and she felt a sad smile curl her lips up.
“I. . . . I don’t know where to begin.”
He was silent for a long moment, then took a breath. “Start with what you’re thinking.”
Her smile widened and she glanced aside at him, head still tipped back. His light, blue-grey eyes shimmered with worry as he looked at her. He had really nice eyes. Such a shame they were so small. Scoots blinked, looking back up into the sky again. What she was thinking?
“I’m really glad you’re here.”
She heard his breath catch, and then heard a smile when he spoke. “Thanks, I think. I’m glad you’re here, too, Scootaloo.”
She sat for a moment, quiet, enjoying the little pinpoints of cold on her muzzle from tiny, crystalline snowflakes landing upon her. She took a breath and sighed again. “I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve been alone for a while.”
“Alone?” He asked after a moment. He left it at that, his hesitant curiosity tangible in the air.
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve got friends, family, ponies who care for me.” She paused, breathing in softly of the cold air, and felt her eyes wanting to drift shut. “But, it’s different, you know? I’ve had the same friends for years, and while I love them to death, sometimes it just feels stale. Mostly, we don’t even see one another anymore, except on special occasions. And my family. . . “ She felt the old thrill in her heart, being able to say that word with meaning. However, it was dulled, now. Not carrying the sharp spike of warmth and belonging that it once had held.
“My family loves me, and I belong with them. . . but I sometimes feel like I can’t talk to them. Because they’re my family, I feel like they might be biased, I guess. Like they’ll always love me, no matter what. Always support me. That’s supposed to be a good feeling, and I guess it is. But, sometimes, I don’t want something so reliable. I want a risk, I guess.”
Her breath caught softly, staring up at the sky again with shining, purple eyes. “I want something new. Somepony I can’t guess about, how they’ll react. Somepony who’ll be honest with me, who will tell me the truth, even if it hurts me. . . “
She shook her head, feeling her train of thought rumbling off the rails, and sighed. “I dunno, Alex. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’ve been a breath of fresh air when things in my life were getting a bit . . . tired.” She looked over at him, properly this time, meeting his eyes, and smiled. “Thank you.”
He looked at her for a long moment, a smile warring with a sad expression on his face, and she tilted her head.
“What is it?” She asked, softly, and he shrugged.
“I don’t know, I just. . . I guess I never really thought about you being lonely, before.” He glanced back up at her with a crooked smile on his face. “I’ve met your parents, and their two of the nicest ponies around. They accepted me for who I was, even when so many others wouldn’t.” He shrugged again, face falling. “I. . . I don’t know what else to say. I mean, I’m sure they’d be honest with you, if you talked to them. I mean, isn’t that sort of Applejack’s thing; Honesty?”
She snorted softly, glancing down at her hooves, toying with the snow beneath her. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just. . . I dunno, I just feel like I can’t talk to them, about some things, sometimes. I’m just being silly, I guess.” She felt his hand on her shoulder, and glanced over, her breath catching slightly at how smooth and soft his skin was against her fur. They had touched before, of course, but somehow, this felt different.
He looked into her eyes, a gentle smile on his lips. “Maybe a little.” He said, and she snorted, shaking her head with a grin, turning away. She felt his fingers catch her by the chin, and in her surprise she did nothing as he turned her to look at him again. “Maybe a little, but. . . ” he reached up, ruffling her mane, and she shivered at the touch, smiling in pleasure. “. . . . I do know how you feel. Sometimes it’s hard to talk to those we know the best, and who we love the most. I suppose we’re afraid of being judged harshly, by those whose opinion really matters to us, so it becomes frightening to think about, talking to them about some things.”
She pursed her lips, and nodded. It made sense, what he said, and matched how she felt. She looked back at him, and saw him looking at her, a gentle expression on his face as his hand kept softly rubbing her mane. It wasn’t odd, in Equestria, to have casual physical contact between friends. In fact it was the norm. So why was his touch making her stomach feel like butterflies were flitting around inside of it?
She had no answer, and so decided to not concern herself over it for now. Besides, he was speaking again.
“So, what is it you’re afraid to talk to them about?”
She sighed softly, turning back to look at the city in front of her, while leaning her head back into his hands. He rubbed her mane, and then his fingers dug in a bit behind her ear, scratching, and she shivered a bit at the feeling.
After some thought, she replied. “I suppose it’s just . . . I feel like I’m not enough, sometimes?”
“What do you mean?” His voice was soft as he kept massaging her ears.
“I dunno. . . . I’m no Earth Pony, I don’t have their strength, or their stamina. Apple Bloom could always buck five trees for every two I could, and I’d have to take three breaks to her one.” She sighed, softly. “But I guess. . . I guess most of it comes back to the same old problem it’s always been. . . . “
She felt his inquisitive look, and she glanced away, pulling back from his hand. She could hear him hesitate, but he didn’t reach for her again, and she knew he had taken the hint. This made her uncomfortable, but she had to talk about it, and it was easier with him. But not while he was touching her. Not while anypony was touching her.
She stood, walking along the wall top a little distance, before stopping and staring out at the city again. She heard him moving, and glanced over, seeing him shifting his position uncomfortably, clearly wanting to move closer to her, but not wanting to disturb her. She felt bad for making him uncomfortable, but she wasn’t sure what else to do. She looked away from him again, feeling a stinging in her eyes that she quickly blinked away.
With a sigh, she spread her wings, as wide as she could, until the muscles burned and the tips of her primaries were flicking in the cold breeze. She couldn’t see them herself, but she didn’t have to. She knew what it looked like.
Rainbow Dash’s wings were amazing to behold, fully opened, spanning over twice her own body length from tip to tip, exactly as a good set of wings should. The muscles around her scapularies were strong, fit, able to lift her and aid her in performing all sorts of stunts and tricks. Even strong enough that she could fly backwards without breaking a sweat.
Impressive. Beautiful. Awesome.
Everything Scootaloo’s wings weren’t.
From tip to tip, her wingspan was less than the length of her body, from nose to tail-tip. Her primaries never properly filled in, leaving gaps between each feather, and her secondaries were still small, still with a downy sort of fuzziness, like she was till in puberty. Her scapulary muscles were strong, nearly as strong as her Mom’s, and her body was fit and athletic. But it didn’t matter. Even in a world of magic, physics were king. No creature, no matter how fit, lightweight or determined, no creature could fly if their wings could not provide enough lift to get them off the ground.
She felt her lip tremble, and a tightness in her throat made it hard to breathe. She closed her eyes, biting her lip, and took several breaths, calming herself enough to speak.
“All my life. . . I would feel it. Every time I closed my eyes, every time I dreamed: The wind in my mane, fluttering over thick feathers as I beat the air with strong wings. Clouds bursting around me as I shattered them, just like my Mom. She would be so proud of me, I just knew it. When I was a filly, I just knew. . . . I knew one day, I would be up there, flying right alongside the great Rainbow Dash. Maybe even out flying her!” Her voice drifted away and for a long moment she stayed like that, eyes squeezed shut, reveling in the feeling in her mind, in her dreams.
But that’s all it was, all it ever had been, and all it ever would be.
A dream.
As her eyes flickered open, her wings drooped slowly. Her throat closed off, and her vision turned blurred as she slowly collapsed back down onto her haunches, tears burning hot and wet as they rolled down her cheeks, and a sob tore from her throat. “B-But. . . But I’ll never f-f-fly like her! Never feel it. . . .” Her voice broke, unable to compete with the ferocious sobbing that ripped her throat, tore her lungs and broke her heart.
She sat, head bowed, wings drooping until the tips brushed the ground, and sobbed brokenly into the snowy night.
. . .
Warmth.
Soft, gentle touch.
Alex’s arm came around her slowly, hesitantly, and when she didn’t fight, it tightened, pulling her over against him gently. His other arm wrapped around her neck and chest from the front, his hand brushing her mane gently and massaging her ear.
Still weeping, she didn’t fight it, and turned, leaning into him, tears streaking over his coat in the cold air. He held her tight and gentle to himself, slowly, softly petting her back, and murmured gently into her ears.
“Shh-shh-shh. It’s okay. It’s alright, Scoots. Let it out.” His voice was soft and soothing, his breath warm and ticklish on her fur, and she slowly found herself relaxing, her sobs faltering. Her tears continued to run, but they had slowed. She reached up with a hoof, pressing it to his chest through the thick, quilted cotton of his coat, feeling it tickling her frog slightly, and, leaning up, nuzzled his neck gently.
She didn’t think about why she did it, or what it might mean. Such would have required her brain to be functioning on a much higher level than it was in that moment. Instead, she acted on instinct, and pressed her nose against his neck, and then rubbed her muzzle and cheek against his skin, shivering, not from the cold, but from the sweet warmth of the contact.
His hand stroked her mane, oblivious to how intimate her gesture was. In a way, she was just as clueless to it as he. Turning, she snuggled in tighter to his warmth, resting her head on his chest, and glanced out from behind her bangs at the cold beauty of the city in winter.
Both sat there, holding each other, thinking of their past, their present and their futures. Thinking about the pain they had experienced, and the love they had once held close to their hearts, but that they now feared was drifting away.
He thought of his family, back home in England, no doubt worried sick, terrified that any day there would be a knock on the door and some PC would be standing there, telling them their beloved son was dead.
He thought about how frightened they must be, at the thought of receiving such news, and how they would hope and pray for it not to happen. And yet, in some way, he knew they would also hope for it, in some strange way, because surely it would be better, to at least know what had happened.
. . .
She thought about her wings, and her friends and her family, and, as usual, her mind turned towards them. The ones she never thought about except in her darkest times. The ones who cast her aside, threw her away, did not want her.
Was it because of her wings? Or had it been some other things?
Why did they drop her on the steps of the orphanage, so long ago?
Mommy? Daddy? She thought, distantly, tears dripping silently from her eyes. What did I do wrong?
. . .
They both sat, silently regarding the snow covered rooftops, like little frosted cakes in a window display. They both sat, thinking about how terribly, awfully alone they were, while silently holding each other close, and all around them, the city radiated the warmth and cheer of the holidays. . . .
~ TO BE CONTINUED ~
