Author's Note

Chapter! Yay! Thanks to Mix-Up for catching a few typos in the last one. You rock, my friend.

This one didn't come as easily as the others, but I like where it went. I hope you all do too!

Enjoy!

Decisions

After talking with Mesma, Thunderlane felt somewhat better about his situation. The embarrassment didn’t abate as much as he had hoped it would, but it had helped. The question that remained now was whether or not he wanted to see a doctor to see if this was all some sort of medical condition. He dwelled on that for some time on his flight home. Ultimately, however, he ruled it out. It wasn’t that he wanted to live in his ignorance of the situation and all the possible bad outcomes, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that if he did go to the doctor, he would have to take off his onesie, and risking the humiliation in town over his diaper bulge was too much for him. Reputations were slow to earn and easy to destroy, as he had learned over time.

The next few days after that conversation were deceptively normal. Well, not normal, but as close to normal as he would likely get with how he was. Occasionally he would catch himself thinking in foalish terms (and rightly berate himself for it), but otherwise there were no other problems, and definitely no other messing accidents. It was odd how keeping his diaper clean in that way made him feel proud. More than once he caught himself thinking that he was a big boy for staying clean. But every time he thought that, he would shake his head to clear it, tell himself that he was being ridiculous, and move on.

The one new habit that cropped up for him during that short time was sleeping with the blanket he had bought. Though to be fair, he didn’t see that in particular as being abnormal. Especially with how soft and cozy it was. That, he thought, was inconspicuous. He wouldn’t have to explain himself for it, really. A lot of ponies slept with blankets, especially when they felt like that. And if any pony ever saw, it was an easy thing to dismiss. Not like everything else he had been doing.

But, like all good things, the brief sense of normalcy came to an end. More specifically, it crashed spectacularly.

He had been playing with his toys one day, building a block tower. A stray block had fallen behind him, and he had turned to get it. His diaper, thick as it was, had brushed against the unstable tower, and was enough to send it tumbling down. When he turned and saw this, he had pounded his forehooves on the carpet.

“Dumb diapee! Why ou hafta be in da way! Is wuined!” His anger was so overwhelming for a moment that he didn’t realize what he had said. When he did, his eyes went wide, and his hooves went over his mouth.

To say he was ashamed or embarrassed was an understatement. The understatement of the century, actually. He was downright horrified with himself. He thanked Celestia that no pony had been here to hear him say that. Thinking in foalish terms was one thing, but speaking in them was a whole other hoofball game. The tentative sense of peace he had felt after talking with Mesma about parts of his situation had been obliterated in one foul swoop. There was no way in hell it was coming back anytime soon.

When the initial horror had passed, he became angry. More specifically, he ended up throwing a rather age appropriate temper tantrum. He let out a cry of both anger and anguish, threw himself on the floor, and started kicking and flailing his hooves, as the initial angry cry dissolved into sad sobs.

He stayed like that for a long time. When the kicking, pounding, and flailing, had wiped most of his anger from his system, he sat up, sniffling. He wiped his eyes with one hoof, slowly pulling himself together. When the tears finally ceased, and he could think rationally again, he was bewildered by his actions. What had come over him? It was like some alien baby had flown into his brain and taken over his body. The incident scared him enough to begin thinking that he needed to tell somepony what was going on. And not just parts of it, everything.

But who could he tell? It wasn’t like he could just spit this out to anypony. The judgement that would be forced upon him by Ponyville would be too much to bear. The question came again. Who could he tell?

Certainly not his parents. They’d think he was doing it to be lazy. And he couldn’t tell Rumble either. There was no way he was going to risk losing his baby brother’s idolization of him over something that he likely couldn’t help with.

He could try talking to Twilight, but he didn’t feel like he knew her well enough to divulge this sort of thing. Even though he logically knew that she would likely be solely scientific on the matter.

The idea of a doctor cropped up again, but if he didn’t have another medical problem underlying this, it would be a waste. And how could his foalish behavior be explained? There were too many holes in that.

And then… There were his teammates. They’d known him long enough to know that even though sometimes he was lazy, he’d never take it this far. But the idea of them laughing at him still stuck deep within his mind. Though, he mused, they likely wouldn’t laugh if they thought it would make him sad. And they were all pretty open minded. Plus, his need for possible extra bathroom breaks could be explained. But what if he lost his job? Flying with the Wonderbolts had been his dream since he was a kid. What if he lost that? Then what did he have? His former life. It would all go to shambles, just as Wind Rider’s had.

No.

No. It wouldn’t come to that. Wind Rider had been disgraced for his actions, of which he was in complete control. This was something he couldn’t control, and even if he did lose his job, he wouldn’t lose it in disgrace because he didn’t do anything wrong. And his teammates would be there for him. No matter what.

That was the thought that settled it for him. Tomorrow, he was going to talk to Spitfire, and pray that she would understand.