The crowds roared. The fans screamed. All of the ponies leaned forward in their seats, eyes gleaming, eagerly awaiting the blare of the horn that would announce the start of the race.
Scootaloo spread her wings out proudly over her, crouching and pawing impatiently at the clouds. Her purple eyes narrowed with concentration, and the corner of her tongue wet her lips in anticipation. She could hear Rainbow Dash shout out, “Three!”
Her muscles tensed.
“Two!”
Her feathers unfurled, catching the light of the sun.
“One!”
You can do this, Scootaloo. You have what it takes, she thought, her heart hammering like a drum. Focus…focus…
“GO!”
The racers took off like rockets, their wings beating furiously, their eyes thin slits, their hooves reaching out in front of them. One pony, a very pale blue stallion with an almost-black mane and tail, drew ahead ever so slightly.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Scootaloo said under her breath, focusing all her energy into making her wings flap faster. It seemed to do the trick, for soon she was almost even with him. “Ha!” she panted. “Not so fast anymore, eh, Soarin’?”
Soarin’ sneered. “I may not be as young as I used to be, kid, but I’m still fast enough to beat you!” He drew ahead.
“We’ll see about that!”
Around and around the cloud course they went, Soarin’ taking the lead at times, Scootaloo ahead at others. On their fifth and final lap, though, it became clear that both were tiring.
“Looks…like your…age is taking…a toll,” Scootaloo choked out between gasps.
“Yeah? Well…I don’t see…you…faring any better,” he flashed back. The two had slowed considerably.
Soon they could see the finish line. As they drew closer and closer, the crowds erupted in a chorus of screams, half shouting Scootaloo’s name and the other half shouting Soarin’s. However, neither of them won.
A few of the other racers zipped ahead, soaring across the finish line before them.
Just as she saw the finish line cross underneath her, Scootaloo collapsed with exhaustion. Soarin’ fell down next to her, seemingly even more tired.
Rainbow Dash dove down from where she had been before, grinning ear to ear. Her Wonderbolts costume shimmered proudly. “Nice job, squirt,” she laughed, ruffling Scootaloo’s mane. “Fourth place out of fifteen. Not bad for somepony as young as you.”
“Thanks. Did I beat Soarin’?”
“Naw, but you got awfully close.” Rainbow Dash leaned down to help the young mare up, brushing a puff of cloud off her Wonderbolts suit. “Come with me.”
“Huh?” She tilted her head. “Where are we going?”
“Well, after every race or show, we have to sign stuff. C’mon, Scoots, you know this. I’m sure you’ll have a huge line of fans waiting for you to sign their stuff. I have to say I’ve never seen anypony gain so much attention for doing one stunt before. Well, of course, besides me and Spitfire and Soarin’, of course. Tell me, Scoots, how did you manage to destroy so much land with that little trick of yours?”
Scootaloo blushed and ducked her head down. “I, ah, I’m not actually sure, to tell you the truth. But we can forget about that, because I already paid for the damage.”
Rainbow Dash ruffled her mane again. “I’m just teasing you, squirt. Don’t take it personally.”
A new, older, raspier voice cut through the air. “Yes. It’s the captain of the Wonderbolts’ job to tease ponies.” All of them turned to see a yellow mare with a fiery mane and tail drop down onto the clouds. Her muzzle was tinged with gray, and her eyes seemed a lot more tired than before.
“Spitfire!” Rainbow Dash squealed.
Spitfire smiled, nodding. “It’s nice to see you again, Rainbow. How have the Wonderbolts been since I retired?”
“Oh, we’ve been great, Spitfire! I’m trying my best to lead them like you did.”
“Of course you are, Rainbow Dash,” she snorted. “Anyway, don’t you have places to be, things to sign?”
Rainbow Dash grinned. “Oh! Right! Yes! Poster signing!” She gave Soarin’ a long look, eyes sparkling. “Shall we?”
He returned the look, nodding. “We shall.” The two flew off toward the signing together, laughing softly about something.
Spitfire stared after them, a distant look in her eyes. “I always knew they’d end up together, before I even knew Rainbow Dash’s name. They just seemed so…right together. Just like you and Rumble.” She shook her head. “So. Signing. Just follow those two and they’ll show you where to go.”
Scootaloo nodded gratefully. “Thanks, Spitfire. It’s a shame I wasn’t in the Wonderbolts when you were captain. I hear you were a great leader.”
“Thank you, Scootaloo.”
* * *
Scootaloo swept the tip of the pencil across the poster, swirling and curving it just like she had for the past twenty minutes. The poster’s owner, a small lime green filly, beamed up at her.
“When I grow up I want to be just like you,” the filly said, her eyes shining. Then she bounded off, holding the rolled up poster in her mouth.
With a sigh, Scootaloo took the next poster to sign, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Take care, kid,” she told the pony in front of her. Poster signing was interesting, sure, and it was great to know ponies appreciated what she did, but after ten or so minutes it became too routine for her.
“’Loo!”
Her ears shot up. There was only one pony that called her that, and that pony was Rumble. Sure enough, she could see her gray-coated husband streaking through the crowd toward her. Behind him scampered a small gray filly, the pride and joy of Scootaloo’s life.
“Rumble!” she exclaimed, leaping out of her seat to meet him.
The pegasus threw his arms around her, hugging her close to him. His eyes glistened with love. “Aw, ‘Loo, it’s great to see you again. Sometimes I think your Wonderbolts tours and races are too long.”
“Me too,” she murmured, burying her face in his soft mane.
“Mommy! Mommy!” the filly chirped, hugging her leg tightly.
Scootaloo laughed and pulled away from Rumble, lifting the filly and kissing her forehead. “Hi there, Storm,” she whispered. “How’ve you been?”
The filly giggled, “Mommy, it’s only been two days since you saw me!”
“I know, sweetie. It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”
Rumble gave Scootaloo a concerned look. “How much longer is this Wonderbolts tour? Storm and I miss you.”
“Aw, Rumble, cheer up. It’ll only be a few more days, and then I’ll be home for two whole weeks! Besides, the next tour we go on, I promise I’ll bring you.” She threw her arm around him warmly. “Picture it, hon. You, me, Storm, and all of Canterlot Castle. It’ll be great!”
He dropped his gaze to the clouds below. “Yeah, I know…” As if suddenly realizing something, he twisted his head around. “Oh, ponyfeathers. Sorry, ‘Loo, but Storm and I gotta go. We’re holding up the line. I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Love ya, Rumble.”
“Love you too, ‘Loo.” Smiling halfheartedly, he threw their filly onto his back and dashed away, throwing one last look over his shoulder.
Scootaloo settled back into her chair, signing the posters, keeping one eye on the TV in the corner.
An image flickered on the screen and a well-groomed red stallion appeared behind a desk. He was wearing a bright red tie and straightening a stack of papers on the desk. As the camera focused in, he looked up and smiled.
“Good evening, Equestria, I’m Newsflash, here with all the latest news. I must say, not much has been going on lately. So first I’ll begin by saying what a pleasure it is to know how much the music industry has changed since I was a foal. Back then it was all about how loud you could turn up the bass, but now, it’s about true talent. Here to show you just how much talent our lovely citizens have is none other than one of Equestria’s best singers. Fillies and gentlecolts, give it up for today’s interviewee, Sweetie Belle!”
Scootaloo’s ears perked up. Sweetie Belle? Being interviewed on live TV? Sweetie Belle?
The camera shifted to show an elegant white unicorn trotting in through the door. Her purple-and-pink mane, curled slightly at the edges, bounced as she walked. Her green eyes were angled ever so slightly, sparkling brightly in the lights. Her flank was adorned with a purple-and-pink bell next to one purple music note.
“Thanks, Newsflash,” Sweetie Belle laughed, her voice sounding remarkably the same since the last time Scootaloo heard it. “Really, might I say what a pleasure and honor it is to be here today?”
“Ha, ha, you’re too kind, Sweetie Belle. If anything, I’d say we should be lucky to have you. So, first question. How does it feel to be the most famous non-princess pony in Equestria?”
Sweetie Belle blushed. “Please, Newsflash, that honor goes to the members of the Wonderbolts, or maybe my sister, Rarity. But I know what you mean.” She tilted her head. “Hmm, that’s a toughie. Well, first of all, it feels amazing. I mean, I’m not the best singer, but it feels great to know that ponies appreciate what I do.”
That’s exactly what I thought earlier today! Scootaloo thought.
“Although at the same time, it’s a bit hard. Ponies don’t look at me and think, that’s a nice pony. They see me and they think, wow, that’s one of Equestria’s top singers, I should get her autograph. Sometimes I get kinda frustrated. I want ponies to like me for who I am, you know?”
Newsflash nodded sympathetically. “I know the feeling. Now, on to our next question. Is there anything that really motivated you to write your songs?”
“Well…” Sweetie Belle’s face let up in a smile very familiar to Scootaloo. It was her “somepony just told me to talk about what I really want to talk about” face. “Of course, as you know, my husband, Featherweight, is very close to my heart. Lots of times I sing about how I feel for him. I bet you can guess which of my songs are about him, Newsflash.”
“Hmm…is one of them Burning?”
“Right you are! Then there’s also one of my more remorseful songs, which I wrote for my parents.” A hushed silence fell across the room for a few seconds. “I…I never really told them how much they meant to me. I wasn’t a very good daughter. Never Let Go is about how I’ll always remember how great they were to me.”
“Hang on, hang on. What about Three Little Dreamers? That one’s about somepony you lost, am I right?”
Sweetie Belle flinched, her eyes widening and her mouth gaping open. Her eyes grew distant. For several moments she stood there, staring at nothing, not moving a muscle.
Newsflash placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “Sweetie Belle? Are you okay? Who’s it about?”
She started. “Huh? Oh.” Her hoof shot up, wiping tears from her eyes. “Sorry about that, I just kind of…blanked out. No, you’re right. That song is about somepony I lost. They didn’t die. In fact, as I hear on your show sometimes, they’re doing quite well. I wrote that song about Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, two of my closest friends.”
Scootaloo’s jaw dropped, and her pencil clattered to the table. For a moment she forgot all about signing posters.
“Well, why does that make you sad? They’re still alive, so what’s the problem?”
“I…” She hesitated. “I…I’m not really sure. When we were foals, we were the best of friends. We literally did everything together. Every free moment we had, we spent it together, trying desperately to earn our cutie marks. We, ah…we called ourselves the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I know, it sounds silly, but they were like sisters to me. A year after I earned my cutie mark, Rarity and I moved to Canterlot so she could grow her business. While there I enrolled in a school for vocals, and, well, I’m sure all of you know what happened next. Big names started to notice me, and my career had begun. I met Featherweight in Canterlot years later, and we remembered each other from Ponyville. We fell in love, married, and here we are now. I’m expecting my first foal. But—and I’m terribly sorry to say this—I don’t think I’ve spoken to Apple Bloom or Scootaloo in about fifteen years.”
Scootaloo stiffened. Had it really been that long?
“I know they’re doing well. Scootaloo married Rumble, had a little filly, and joined the Wonderbolts. Apple Bloom opened an art studio with Pound Cake and their four foals in Ponyville. It’s just…” She trailed off, looking at Newsflash nervously “Newsflash, can you keep a secret?”
Newsflash laughed, “Sorry, kid, but we’re on live TV.”
“Fair enough. I’ll tell you anyway. When the three of us eventually earned our cutie marks and prepared to go our separate ways, we promised each other we’d meet at our old clubhouse at the same time every year. On the appointed date I went to our old clubhouse and waited. I waited twenty-four hours, Newsflash, but neither of them came. I understand, I really do. Scootaloo was busy, what with Rainbow Dash training her and everything. Apple Bloom was alternating between working the farm and painting. So I left and came back the next year. But they never showed up. Five years I traveled there, Newsflash, and five years I was disappointed. I know they must’ve been busy, but…we never broke promises to each other. It just…it hurt…a lot…”
“Hello? Hello! Equestria to Scootaloo!” a voice snapped.
“Wha—huh?!” Scootaloo yelped, flashing back to reality. “Oh. It’s you, Rainbow Dash. What do you want?”
Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth. “Look around, squirt. It’s closing time for the arena. We have to go.” She flared her wings impatiently, beckoning to the rest of the Wonderbolts behind her.
“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Rainbow, is there any chance we’re going to Ponyville during this tour?”
“Um, yes. The name of this tour is ‘Small Towns, Big Names,’ smart one. Ponyville’s got Twilight Sparkle, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Applejack, and was the hometown of me and Rarity, and you and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle and tons of others. Duh!”
“Good. Can you bring me two parchments and a quill? I’ll meet you guys back at the hotel. I just have something I need to bring to the post office.”
Rainbow Dash looked her up and down before snorting. “Whatever. Knock yourself out, kid. Just don’t get into any trouble, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.”
* * *
Sweetie Belle hopped into the fancy carriage, wincing at the flashes that kept piercing through the night. She brushed her mane out of her eyes and leaned back against the cushiony seat, her eyes closed tightly. That had been, without a doubt, the longest interview she’d had. The questions had kept getting harder and took a longer to answer, so much so that by the time the questions were done, Sweetie Belle could hardly open her mouth to sing a preview of her next song.
Her husband hopped in next to her, yanking the door shut with a sigh. “Yeesh. Is it just me, or do your fans keep getting more and more rabid? A couple of them were trying to pull out locks of my mane.” He rubbed the top of his head pitifully, sticking out his bottom lip. “Of course, I would stand for much worse to keep them from getting to you, Sweetie.”
“Aww, thanks, Featherweight,” she said, smiling. “That’s so sweet.”
“What can I say? I’m a sweet stallion,” he replied, grinning. Then his grin fell and he looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” Sweetie Belle murmured absently.
“You look upset. Are you—are you experiencing pain? Do you need to go to the hospital??” Featherweight’s eyes grew as large as the moon. “Tell me you’re okay!”
Sweetie Belle laid her hoof on Featherweight’s, laughing softly. “I’m okay, I really am.”
“That’s what they all say. Stay here, I’ll tell our driver to drive to the nearest hospital.”
As he stood up to exit the carriage, she placed her hooves firmly on his shoulders and pushed him back into the seat. “Featherweight! Seriously, I’m fine. I was just…thinking, that’s all.”
“About what?”
She shifted her gaze out the window, staring up at the stars. “Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Why didn’t they ever even write to me? Was I not important to them?”
Featherweight furrowed his brow. “Sweets, I’m sure they tried to write to you. Maybe their letters just didn’t get through.” He glanced out the window, saying, “See? There’s the mailpony now, talking to the driver. You never know, it could be one of them.”
“Yeah, right.”
No sooner had she said that than the door flew open and their driver, a gray stallion, poked his head inside. “Sweetie Belle! It’s for you!” he said excitedly. “From one of the Wonderbolts!”
Sweetie Belle gave Featherweight a quick look. “Well, there are tons of Wonderbolts besides Scootaloo that would write to me,” she insisted, taking the letter and tearing it open.
“Read it! Read it!” Featherweight urged, peeking over her shoulder.
“I am.”
Dear Sweetie Belle, it read. I watched the interview, and I agree. It’s been too long. I’m sorry I broke my promise. Can’t say much now. Meet me at the old clubhouse at noon in three days. Apple Bloom will come too. –The Wonderbolts’ Resident Chicken.
Sweetie Belle’s jaw dropped. How could Scootaloo have seen the interview, written the letter, sent the letter, and it have arrived before Sweetie Belle had even left the place she was being interviewed? It was impossible!
Featherweight whistled. “Dang. How’s she see the interview and send this all within four hours?” he wondered, speaking Sweetie’s thoughts out loud. “And how do we know it’s really her?”
Sweetie Belle pointed to the signature at the bottom. “That’s Scoots’ signature. It’s the same as it was when we were fillies.”
“But…Ponyville’s way out of the way for us, and three days isn’t a long time. Besides, are you sure you should go in your condition?”
“I’m going, Feather. I haven’t seen my friends in almost twenty years.” She waved at the driver, who was still standing with his head inside the door. “Mr. Hoof, would you be a dear and drive me to Ponyville? I’ll pay you double what I normally do.”
The stallion nodded. “Of course, Ms. Belle. Right away.” His head vanished and soon the carriage shook slightly and began to move.
Sweetie Belle lay back on the seat, her head resting on Featherweight’s shoulder. He stared down at her, his eyes soft, before relaxing and closing his eyes.
“Goodnight, Featherweight,” she murmured, half-asleep already.
“G’night, Sweetie.”
* * *
“Mom! I need help with—”
“Mom! Yellow Cake kicked me!”
“I did not!”
“Yeah you did!”
“No! I only kicked you because you called me a liar!”
“I only called you a liar because you lied!”
“Mom, can you help me with my homework, please?”
“Hey, Mom, I’m hungry!”
“Mom!”
“Mom!”
“Mom!”
“Mom!”
“ENOUGH!” Apple Bloom snapped, leaping up and whirling around. Her mane was scruffy, her eyes were bloodshot, and her nostrils flared. “Ah have had enough,” she said, calmly this time. “Yellow Cake, apologize to yer sister.”
Yellow Cake shuffled his hooves and dropped his golden ears. “Sorry, Apple Cider,” he mumbled bitterly. His brown mane fell around his eyes.
Apple Cider sniffed and turned up her nose. “Ah suppose it’s alright.” Suddenly she leaned forward, growling, her nose pressed against her younger brother’s. “But if ya kick me one more time, Ah Pinkie Promise Ah will kick ya so hard you’ll be landin’ in Manehattan.”
“G-got it, sis!”
Apple Bloom turned to her other two children. “Now, Firebush, ya said ya were hungry?”
The bright red filly nodded, standing on the tip of her hooves.
“Alright. Ya know where th’ kitchen is. Pick out somethin’ healthy and turn on some cartoons ta keep ya quiet, y’hear?”
“’Kay!”
“Bumblebee, ya needed help with homework?”
The oldest of Apple Bloom’s children, a pale yellow filly with a golden-brown mane and tail, sighed and nodded. “Yeah. My idiot teacher decided to give us homework on homeostasis, but what we learned today was how to—”
“Uh, yeah. ‘Bout that. Uh, ya better ask yer father ‘bout that one, hayseed. Ah’m no better at smartpony school stuff than Ah am at dancin’.”
Bumblebee groaned, “Whatever,” and wandered off to find Pound Cake.
Apple Cider and Yellow Cake stared after their sister with a mixture of fear and annoyance.
“Ma, she’s in one of her moods again, ain’t she?” Yellow Cake asked.
“’Fraid so. If Ah were you Ah’d go play in the orchard, just until she goes over ta her friend’s house.”
The two were happy to oblige, arguing with each other as soon as they stepped out the door.
Sighing with relief and rubbing her aching head, Apple Bloom sank back into her chair and gripped the paintbrush in her jaws, swirling it across the painting with one final touch. Then she drew back, squinting and looking at the picture from different angles. At last satisfied, she admired the painting. The painting was a sunset scene, an apple orchard in the background. The thing that really made the picture was the reddish tinge to everything and the way everything was proportioned, like something somepony who was slowly going insane would see. The trees bent in all sorts of angles, the hillsides were oddly positioned, and the apples on the trees were way larger than they should’ve been. Everything was brilliantly done, the colors blending in such a way to draw you in and never let you go. Apple Bloom called it Living With Regret.
“Apple Bloom?” a soft voice called.
“Aw, fer cryin’ out loud, what the hay do you want?” she demanded, spinning around. “Oh! Pound Cake! Sorry, Ah thought you were one of the kids. Still, what the hay do ya want? Ah’m a little busy.”
Pound Cake lifted his hooves as if surrendering. “Whoa, whoa, calm down, Ms. Snappy-pants. I was just going to see if you were okay, but I think I know the answer.”
“Ah’m fine. Besides, it ain’t none of yer business how Ah’m doin’ and why.” She crossed her arms stubbornly.
“Actually, AB, I think it is my business. I deserve to know how my little wifey’s feeling.” He stuck his tongue out at her and gave her one of his famous grins. The kind of grin that always made ponies feel like slugging him in the jaw. “Although, I can see you’re busy. I’ll just pretend you don’t exist until dinner.”
Apple Bloom flattened her ears and glared at him. “Pound Cake, Ah don’t know how Ah can put up with ya.”
“I’m real glad you do put up with me, though,” he said earnestly.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“Your cooking’s amazing!” Before he even finished speaking he had to dive out of the way to dodge the paintbrush Apple Bloom had chucked at him.
“Pound Cake, yer the most infuriatin’ creature Ah’ve ever met!” she hollered, her face red with anger.
“And that’s why you love me,” he concluded, handing her the paintbrush. “Relax, AB, I’m just kidding. I’m glad you put up with me because you’re amazing and beautiful and intelligent and talented and—”
Apple Bloom cut him off. “All right, Pound, Ah think Ah get it.”
He grabbed her hooves and pulled her out of her chair, twirling her so she ended up in his arms. Though she was by no means short, Pound Cake was several inches taller than her and had to look down at her. “Y’know, Apple Bloom,” he murmured, “I think you’ve overworked yourself, what with the kids being home for summer vacation and whatnot.”
“No, ya think?”
“Tell you what,” he went on, pulling away from her and handing her an envelope, “you just read what’s in that envelope and then have yourself a long vacation. I’ll have Fluttershy and Big Mac stay here to help watch the kids while I’m at work, and you can go wherever you want and just relax. Sound good?”
She thought for a moment. “Yeah, but…where would Ah go?”
He shrugged. “You can go anywhere from Canterlot to Apploosa, it doesn’t matter to me. Although, uh, I take back what I said before. You should probably prepare before you go on vacation. I’ll help you pack and everything. As you very well know, money isn’t an issue. Since we live on the farm, we don’t have to buy food, we can just pick it. The farm was paid for a long time ago, and since I started working in a higher position at the factory, we’ve got a pretty good flow of money coming in. Hay, I could even arrange for you to stay at Canterlot Castle if you wanted!”
Apple Bloom gave a sigh of contentment and leaned against Pound Cake. “Have Ah ever told ya Ah love ya, Pound Cake?”
“Yes. Yes, you have. That’s sweet of you, but you’re being really sappy and not like yourself and it’s kind of creeping me out. I really think you should see what’s in that envelope.”
“Ya mean ya read it?!”
“Well, yeah.”
The mare leapt away from him, her eyes shooting daggers. “What the hay is yer problem, Pound Cake? What if it was some super-secret message for me and ya went and read it?! Sometimes you just—AUGH!”
Once again, Pound Cake found himself dodging flying paintbrushes. When the assault ceased, he grinned at his wife. “There’s the Apple Bloom I know and love. Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
Only once Pound Cake was gone did Apple Bloom look at the envelope he had given her. The front had no return address, so she slid the letter out and read it aloud.
“Dear Apple Bloom,” she began, “I can’t explain much in this letter, but it’s been too long since all of us have gotten together. Huh, that’s weird, Ah wonder who wrote this. Meet me at our old clubhouse at noon in three days, and we’ll talk then. Sweetie Belle will be there too. Sweetie Belle? From, The Wonderbolts’ Resident Chicken.” She looked up in surprise. “There’s only one pony who knows my name, Sweetie Belle’s name, and is a huge chicken. But…why would Scootaloo wanna see us? She’s got a big shot name, a sweet little daughter, and a great husband. Sure, Sweetie’s a famous singer, but what about me? Ah’m just a painter. Oh, well, Ah guess Ah’ll find out then.”
Scootaloo paced outside Rainbow Dash’s office, her impatience making her antsy. Finally, finally, the door opened and Rainbow Dash trotted out. When she saw Scootaloo, she stopped.
“Hey, kid,” she greeted, stretching out her wings. “What do you need?”
The younger mare took a deep breath. “I’m leaving for Ponyville early.”
“What? You can’t do that! You’ll miss our practices!”
“Rainbow Dash, I’ve practiced these moves so much I could do them in my sleep. Say whatever you want. I’ve made up my mind to go. I’ve already packed my bags and have a pony waiting to help me bring them. I didn’t come here to ask for your permission, Rainbow Dash, I came to tell you I’m leaving.”
The cyan Pegasus watched her for a moment before smiling. “Scoots, you’re becoming more and more like me every day. Well, if that’s the case, then have a safe trip. We’ll see you when we get there, okay?”
“Thanks, Dash.” Scootaloo turned to leave, only to be stopped by the captain calling out to her.
“Hey, Scootaloo, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you going there, anyway? Does it have something to do with you staying later a few days ago?”
Scootaloo looked back over her shoulder. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. I’m going to see Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. I told them to meet me at our old clubhouse, so I can see them, even if it’s just for a short while.”
Rainbow Dash looked extremely proud. “Like I said, you’re becoming more and more like me. When the time comes to pass down the Elements of Harmony, I might just pick you for Loyalty.”
Grinning, Scootaloo flew out of the Wonderbolts HQ and into the clear morning air, waving to her bag-carrier that she was ready to go. Ever since Scootaloo was a filly and Rainbow Dash found out she was an orphan, the cyan mare had as good as adopted her. She made sure Scootaloo always had food, water, and a roof over her head. When ponies asked Scootaloo if she had any family, she would always say “Rainbow Dash!” and leave it at that, giving no further information. Even now, Rainbow Dash’s approval meant the world to Scootaloo.
Scootaloo glanced at the slowly rising sun, and then at her bag-carrier, hoping she would make it to the clubhouse on time.
* * *
“What do you mean, I can’t go in the clubhouse today?” Bumblebee snarled, outraged.
Apple Bloom ran her hoof through her mane. “Look, Bumblebee, Ah don’t care what ya say, Ah’m yer mother, so what Ah tell ya to do, ya gotta do, y’hear? And Ah’m tellin’ ya that ya can’t go in the clubhouse today.”
“But all my friends go in the clubhouse. They like the clubhouse, and so do I, and we were going to go there today!” Bumblebee stamped her hoof. “So I will not listen to what my idiot mother has to say. Go buck yourself!”
A dangerous silence fell over Apple Bloom, the sort of silence that sent chills up and down her daughter’s spine. After a moment, the yellow mare took a step toward Bumblebee, her form resembling a lion stalking its prey. “What did you just say ta me, missy?”
Bumblebee whimpered, shrinking in size considerably. “I-I didn’t mean it, I was just—!”
“WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME?!” Apple Bloom repeated, her nostrils flaring and her eyes blazing. “That’s it, Ah’ve had enough of yer nonsense! Soon as Ah get home, Ah’m callin’ up my dear ol’ friend Spike. That’s right, remember him? That big ol’ dragon that came ta Ponyville last spring to help with Winter Wrap Up? Well, Ah’ve heard he’s great with kids, so Ah think Ah’ll have him foalsit you while Ah’m on vacation, all right?”
Bumblebee trembled under her mother’s glare.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, Mom,” she whispered.
“Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, Ah have ta go ta the clubhouse ta meet some friends of mine. Behave yerself or next you’ll find yerself looked after by Diamond Tiara.” With a snort, Apple Bloom exited the farm, slamming the door behind her.
Once in the fresh air, Apple Bloom took a deep breath. “Wow. Ah’ve never felt so alive since Ah tried to be a Cutie Mark Crusader Manticore Hunter.” She winced at the memory. “Now, Ah hope Ah can find our clubhouse. It’s been a while since Ah’ve been there.”
Luckily, though, she didn’t need to find it on her own.
“Apple Bloom?” came an astonished call.
The farm pony whipped around, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the white unicorn.
Her pink-and-purple mane was perfectly styled, curling and twisting to create an elegant, refined appearance. Her green eyes shone with a wiser, older gleam, and her stomach protruded, confirming the rumors Apple Bloom had heard.
“Sweetie Belle!” Apple Bloom crowed, leaping forward and bowling her over. Her arms wrapped around her old friend in a tight hug. “Ah’ve missed ya, Sweetie Belle!”
“Easy, easy,” Sweetie Belle pleaded. “I don’t want anything to happen to my foal.”
“Right. Of course. Ah know how it is.” She stood and brushed herself off, lending a hoof to Sweetie. “So when are ya due?”
Sweetie Belle blushed. “Three months to the day.”
“And who’s the lucky stallion?”
“You remember Featherweight, right? He took the pictures for our school newspaper? Well, he and I got married five years ago.”
“Aw, good fer you, Sweetie Belle!”
Sweetie Belle smiled. “Thanks. Hey, do you think we should start walking to the clubhouse?”
“Sure thing.”
Sweetie was silent a moment, looking Apple Bloom up and down. Then she spoke. “AB, you look so different now. You look more…I don’t know, weathered, if that makes since. Like you’ve been working too hard.”
“My husband, Pound Cake, said the same thing. Said Ah should take a vacation or somethin’.” She ran a hoof through her messy mane. “Must be the kids. They drive me crazy. Like just now, Ah threatened my oldest, Bumblebee, that Ah would send her to stay with Diamond Tiara.” She chuckled. “Celestia, Ah love Bumblebee.”
The unicorn tilted her head. “But…you just said she drives you crazy.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Well…how can you love her and still say she drives you crazy?”
Apple Bloom looked at her like she had two heads. Then she laughed. “Sorry, Sweetie, Ah sort of forgot ya don’t have foals for a second. The thing is, sometimes foals drive ya crazy. Sometimes ya just wanna put ‘em in a box and ship ‘em to the moon. But ya still love ‘em, even then. Because they’re yer foals, and ya know you’d be nothin’ without ‘em. Does that make sense?”
“I…I guess.”
They fell silent for a bit, just staring at the apple trees around them. Finally, Apple Bloom said, “Look, Sweetie Belle, Ah’m mighty sorry.”
“For what?”
“For breakin’ my promise. Ah promised Ah’d go to the clubhouse once a year ta meet ya’ll there, and Ah didn’t. Which is strange, considerin’ the clubhouse is on my property. But Ah’m really sorry.”
Sweetie Belle smiled. “That’s sweet, Apple Bloom, but it’s really fine. The first year we said we’d meet up you were in the hospital, pregnant with Bumblebee, remember? And the second year you had an art show to go to. The third year, you must’ve forgotten, and the years after that.”
“But Ah—”
“Apple Bloom, don’t worry about it. Look, we’re here.”
The two ponies stopped in front of the clubhouse, each filled with a mixture of nostalgia and guilt.
Sweetie Belle said, “Looks like you patched it up some more. So your cutie mark doesn’t just include painting?”
“Nah, Ah’m also good at buildin’ stuff.” She stared at her hooves modestly. “Well, decent at buildin’ stuff. Hey, d’ya think Scootaloo’s already here?”
“I do!” came a loud and confident response.
The two of them turned to see Scootaloo landing calmly, her Wonderbolts outfit, sans the goggles, fitting tightly on her. Her purplish mane was actually brushed, save a few tufts sticking out here and there from the flight, and her tail was shorter and neater. Her wings rustled, the feathers splayed out and catching the sunlight, and she gave a fierce grin. “Hey, guys. I’m not too late, am I?” Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by her two oldest friends bounding forward and wrapping her in a tight hug. Though when she was a filly she probably would’ve pulled away in disgust, she returned the favor, if a little hesitantly.
Sweetie Belle pulled away, amusement glinting in her eyes. “Wow. What have the Wonderbolts done to you? I never thought I’d see the day you actually returned our hugs.”
“Actually,” Scootaloo said, a dreamy look in her eyes, “it’s not really the Wonderbolts that changed me. It was really Rumble and my daughter, Storm. But, yeah, I agree with you, I’m definitely different from when I was a filly. So, how have all of you been?”
Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Exhausted. Worked to the limit.”
“I’ve been pretty good. I’m expecting my first foal,” Sweetie said shyly, as if unsure how to act around the new version of Scootaloo.
“I heard. Congratulations!” Scootaloo coughed. “Also, I just wanted to say, I saw your interview, and…well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I broke my promise, and that I never wrote, or went to your concerts, or anything. I was a bad friend.”
“It’s fine!” Sweetie insisted. “And you’re not a bad friend. Just because you make one mistake doesn’t mean you’re a bad friend!”
“But—!”
“No buts. Now, how about we go into the clubhouse and talk about old times like a bunch of old-timers?”
This made all three of them giggle.
“You’re right,” Scootaloo said, “but I’m still sorry. I—wait a minute, we’re not that old, are we?”
Apple Bloom covered her mouth with her hooves to stifle her giggles. “Well, we’re around the same age, and I have a daughter who’s almost in her junior year in high school, so yeah, we’re kinda old.”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo snorted, “around the same age. I’m younger than both of you. I’m not an old-timer yet, Granny.”
Apple Bloom gave Scootaloo a hard shove, sending Scootaloo flapping frantically to get inside before she hit her again. Sweetie Belle could hardly contain her laughter.
“I was wrong,” she giggled, “you haven’t changed that much.”
Once inside, the three sat in a circle—well, more of a triangle. For a few minutes they were content to just watch each other, taking in every single detail. Finally, though, Scootaloo spoke.
“Do you remember the talent show? How I insisted on singing, Apple Bloom, you did the dancing, and Sweetie Belle, you made the costumes and scenery?” She laughed, bowing her head. “Sweet Celestia, that was fun. If we’d only switched the jobs around, maybe we’d have gotten our cutie marks earlier.”
Sweetie Belle nodded. “At the time, I couldn’t understand why everypony was laughing at us. I thought we’d been great.”
“Aw, that was embarrassin’,” Apple Bloom grunted, blushing.
“And then there was that time we wrote in the school newspaper,” Sweetie Belle added. “That was how I met Featherweight. Still, that was horrible.”
“And what about when Ah stole the Heart’s Desire from Zecora and got the Cutie Pox?” Apple Bloom said. “That was fun. Well, not fun, but really fun, y’know?” The other ponies just stared at her. “Never mind.”
Scootaloo gave a sad smile. “Those were some good times. Sometimes I wish we could just go back to when we first met and relive our lives.”
“Ah know what ya mean,” Apple Bloom murmured.
Sweetie Belle nodded. “That’s part of what I wrote about in one of my songs, Three Little Dreamers. That’s the song I wrote about us, and our time as Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
Apple Bloom gave an excited yelp and leapt to her hooves. “Sing it for us! Sing it for us!” she begged.
“I don’t know,” Sweetie said nervously. “It’s not all that good…”
Scootaloo snorted. “Seriously, Sweetie Belle? I’ve heard it before, and it’s not just good, it’s amazing. I’d love it if you’d sing it for us.”
Sweetie Belle looked between the two of them before sighing and giving in. “Fine. But first…do you think we should do this again sometime?”
“Of course! Ah for one think we should do this once a year, like we were gonna.” The earth pony grinned.
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Scootaloo said. “And I’ll try to get tickets to your art shows, Apple Bloom, and your concerts, Sweetie Belle.”
“Oh yeah, Sweetie Belle, would ya mind if Ah tagged along with ya to your next concert? Pound Cake promised me Ah could take a vacation anywhere Ah wanted to, and right now, Ah think seein’ one of my best friends in a concert sounds mighty good.”
“Sure,” Sweetie Belle said. “Scootaloo, I’ll ask Twilight if she can teach me a cloud-walking spell so I can see you and the rest of the Wonderbolts perform. And I’ll get both of you free tickets to some of my concerts.”
“As far as I’m concerned, the two of you are on the VIP list for Wonderbolts shows, and each of you have four tickets to our next show. Bring your husband, your kids, your friends, or whoever the hay you want.”
“Y’all can come in my art shows for free. Just tell whoever’s standin’ at the door who ya are, and Ah’ll make sure ya can get in.”
Sweetie Belle looked at her two oldest friends and felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Even after all this time,” she said, “we’re still the same. Yes, some of us have changed more than others, but inside, we’re the same.” She cleared her throat. “So. My song.”
Her two friends settled back on their haunches, waiting expectantly with tears in their eyes. And then Sweetie Belle began to sing.
“We aimed for the stars
And we discovered who we are
We shared priceless moments that will last forever more
We lived each day together nights sometimes dusk until dawn
We watched each other grow
In the heat of the sun, in the chill of the snow
We laughed, played, and yearned to reach our goals
We swore that we would ever since we were foals
But now that it’s done
And seeing how far we’ve come
My eyes fill with tears
Remembering the past few years
I’m not saying I regret it I’d never say that
But nostalgia can feel like a knife in your back
Part of me wants time to reverse
For the days to count down back to the first
Nothing lasts forever this I know
Everything changes as time flows
But that shouldn’t matter
I’ll always be a Cutie Mark Crusader.
Time goes by
Yesterday’s gone
Prepare for tomorrow
A future song
I’ll never forget
I’ll always remember
Who we used to be and who we still are
Look here are three little dreamers
Ready to impress everyone
Listen up ‘cause it’s not over
Our time has just begun.”
(from The Cutie Mark Crusader Conclusion by ElectroKaplosion)
* * *
The three of them had decided to stay in the clubhouse for the night. Apple Bloom returned to the farm to get sleeping bags, and then they just sat, talking, laughing, singing, and remembering.
Only when the moon was high in the sky did they finally decide to get some sleep. Scootaloo was the last awake, watching the others.
It’s amazing, she thought, how much friends mean. After all these years, these fifteen years we didn’t see each other, the moment we’re together again, it’s like no time passed at all. Apple Bloom is still impatient, brave, and the confident leader of our little group. Sweetie Belle is still trusting, cheerful, and an amazing singer. I’m still cocky and adventurous. It’s like nothing changed about us. And yet here I am, being all sentimental and sappy. But Sweetie Belle was right. Everything she said in that song was so right. We’re still the Cutie Mark Crusaders, even if we have our cutie marks. It’s not over yet. Our time has just begun.
