The Fall Formal was officially over, and silence ruled Canterlot High School. The darkened hallways were absent of any sound, save the occasional echoing sniffle. Thin rays of moonlight fell upon the school’s shattered entryway, illuminating the tear-stained face of a girl with red and yellow hair. She knelt before a collapsed wall with a trowel in hand, and gingerly set a brick into place before wiping her nose. Her bleary eyes drifted up to the sky and watched as the moon finally obscured the star above it in full.
No going back now, Sunset Shimmer thought mournfully. I’m stuck here for another thirty moons, whether I like it or not . . .
It was a bittersweet realization. On one hand, it meant this entire Element of Harmony mess was finally over with. On the other . . . The memory of dozens of scowling faces flooded Sunset’s vision, and her head suddenly felt too heavy to hold up. Years of work had gone into positioning herself at the top of this school. She’d schemed, bled, even harmed a few people along the way, and it had all amounted to nothing. Twilight Sparkle had seen to that.
No, not Twilight Sparkle, she thought to herself as she spread mortar onto another brick. Not really. The only person truly at fault here was Sunset herself. And that was the part that stung the most. Once again, Sunset felt her eyes begin to well up with tears. How was she supposed to know that friendship could be as powerful as magic? That sounded like some cheesy line from a children’s cartoon, not at all like reality. Certainly not this reality, where magic didn’t even seem to exist in the first place.
Sunset vaguely remembered her old mentor, Princess Celestia, teaching her that other ponies were the true source of power in Equestria. It had seemed a simple, logical observation. So Sunset had worked hard to show the world that she was in charge; the best, bar none, and worthy of fear and respect. Ponies—and people—would follow her no matter what, and Sunset would be the most powerful pony in Equestria.
Only now, it seemed, did Sunset truly understand what Celestia had meant. And it had taken Sunset’s replacement to show her—after she’d turned the whole school against itself, stolen her homeland’s most important defensive weapon, and destroyed half of her new home using it.
The whole thing left a bitter taste in Sunset’s mouth. On top of that, she was back at square one: alone and lost in a strange world, surrounded by people who looked at her fearfully. Except now they had good reason to. Instead of simply thinking she was odd for picking objects up with her mouth, they’d all be remembering the time she’d turned into a giant, red-skinned demoness and brainwashed them all to fight in her personal army.
I’m a monster, Sunset thought, laying her forehead against the remains of the cold brick wall. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she decided to let them fall; her eyes were already rubbed raw. She wondered if staying in this world had been the right call, after all. Lying at the bottom of that crater, listening to Twilight Sparkle explain her failure, all Sunset could think about was how horrible of a person she was. How misguided she’d been, and how she’d never have the chance to change now that she knew there was another way.
Then, something she never expected happened. After all Sunset had done, and with the entire school looking on at her with utter disgust, Twilight Sparkle had bent down and offered Sunset her hand. It was a simple gesture, but one that Sunset would never forget. Nor could she ever forget the sincerity and compassion in Twilight’s eyes. It filled Sunset with a sense of warmth she hadn’t felt since she was just a filly, walking the halls of Canterlot Castle with Princess Celestia. A sense of warmth that Sunset hoped would never leave her again.
So, naturally, it vanished the first chance it got. Everybody had gone right back into the gym to finish the dance, and Sunset had been left outside with a trowel, a pile of bricks, and the memory of each student’s scowling face.
A set of footsteps echoed from down the hallway and Sunset, fearful that it might be Vice Principal Luna coming to check on her progress again, ripped her head off the wall and hastily slapped a glob of mortar on the closest brick she could find. She peered over her shoulder with a sinking feeling and found herself looking at Trixie’s deep frown and cold eyes. It was the same look each of the other students had given her as they’d passed by on their way home. Sunset grimaced and offered her a small wave, but Trixie simply huffed and pressed her nose to the air as she walked down the steps. A few moments later, she’d disappeared into the darkness.
Once Trixie was gone, Sunset groaned and rapped her head on the wall. How was she ever going to face everyone in the morning? Twilight had offered her help, but it was safe to say that she was back home in Equestria now. Her friends had agreed to “watch out for her—” whatever that meant, but Sunset doubted that they’d actually follow through. Not that she blamed them, really; Sunset had been the very person to drive them all apart. It was pretty obvious that she was going to have to deal with the fallout of her actions on her own.
I deserve every bit of it, Sunset thought bitterly. Through her blurry vision, she could still see the tattered remains of her dress still clinging to her body. Yet another reminder of the terrible creature she’d turned herself into. And so much worse . . .
It was this thought that kept her from breaking out into tears for the hundredth time that night. She deserved whatever came to her in the morning, so she would stand and take it without complaint. It didn’t stop her lip from quivering, though. Or her hands from shaking.
Sunset swallowed thickly and raised the brick in her hand up to the portion of the wall she’d been rebuilding. The mortar squelched and popped as she pressed it into place. A moment later, she brought the trowel around and scraped away the excess. She hadn’t made much progress during the dance, but she’d managed to rebuild a few feet of the hole she’d ripped out of the school entryway. In a few more hours, she might even consider herself halfway done.
The minutes passed slowly as she worked—mudding, setting, and scraping. Sunset tried to keep her sniffling down to a minimum, but her nose simply refused to stop running. Once it started to drip, she set her current brick down atop the brickwork and reached to wipe her face off, but it slipped off the wall and mercilessly crashed onto her hand. Crushing pain ripped through her fingers as the brick clattered away. With a yelp, Sunset seized her fingers in her hand and rolled onto the floor, hissing and cursing this world’s lack of nice, protective hooves.
The pain slowly started to ebb away as the minutes passed, and Sunset managed to find her way back onto her knees for a look at her hand. Her knuckles were red and swollen, and the back of her hand was bleeding, but nothing seemed to be broken, at least. A good thing, too. It wouldn’t have taken long for rumors to start flying that she’d hurt herself on purpose to get out of doing the repairs.
After a deep breath, Sunset steadied herself and grabbed the next brick. She pressed some mortar against the bottom and raised her good hand to set it into place, but the interruption of a throat clearing made her freeze.
“Y’know, that wall’s pretty crooked.”
Rainbow Dash? Sunset whirled her head around to see the rainbow-haired girl standing behind her. A zip-up hoodie dangled at her side, the cuff of its sleeve picking up masonry dust as it dragged across the floor. Her face was lost against the shadows cast by the broken wall, but Sunset was easily able to recognize her crackly voice and magenta boots.
Sunset’s eyes fell back to the floor. Of course she’d only come to mock her. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I didn’t realize—”
“I mean, look at it,” Rainbow Dash continued, raising her hands and gesturing at the wall, which Sunset now noticed was bowing at a nearly seventy-degree angle. “It could fall on top of you at any second.”
Sunset realized that was a prospect she didn’t exactly mind right before she registered the concern in Rainbow Dash’s voice. She narrowed her eyes. “Why does that matter to you?”
There was a long pause before Rainbow Dash responded. “Um . . . wow.”
Faux sympathy, that’s all it was. Sunset wasn’t buying it; she’d played that card more than enough times herself. She turned back around and pressed her hands against the wall. Pushing hardly seemed to do anything to correct the wall’s angle, though, even as she rose to her feet for more leverage. It seemed she hadn’t given herself enough credit for how many bricks she’d laid. Another push pressed the wall back a bit, but she could feel it trying to lean back toward her. She pushed again, but the wall refused to budge any further.
A second set of hands planted themselves on the wall next to hers. They were cerulean and toned from years of playing sports. Sunset heard Rainbow Dash grunt, and the wall righted itself without protest. She grinned and gently patted the brickwork. “There we go. Just took a little elbow grease.”
Sunset blinked slowly as she brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “Why . . . I thought you went home.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged but averted her gaze. “Forgot my jacket.”
Sunset nodded and stared at the floor. Maybe Rainbow Dash hadn’t been completely bogus, then. At the very least, she didn’t seem to want Sunset hurt. She briefly wondered if the rest of the school felt that way before immediately deciding that she didn’t want to find out.
The two girls stood in the darkness for a long moment with only the crickets chirping. Rainbow Dash was the first to break the silence, rocking on the balls of her feet. “Are you still crying?”
And the other foot drops, Sunset groaned. She should have seen this coming—she’d used other peoples’ tears as ammunition for years. Somebody was bound to fight fire with fire after so long.
But the teasing never came. Instead, Rainbow simply scratched the back of her neck. “Look, uh . . . We all make mistakes, y’know? Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Sunset’s jaw dropped. “A mistake,” she echoed flatly. “A mistake?! Is that what you think that was?” Sunset clenched her fists and snorted as a fire ignited inside of her belly. “You forget to zip up your pants before leaving the bathroom? That’s a mistake!” Raising her hand, Sunset pointed her finger directly at the twenty-foot crater that scarred Canterlot High’s front yard. It was a sight she could barely make out through her blurry vision. “I planned that for years. Aside from Twilight’s interference, it went off without a hitch! It was entirely intentional!”
Suddenly, Sunset’s knees buckled, and she fell back against the wall. Without ceremony, she slid down onto the floor and cupped her head in her hands. “I never realized . . .” She trailed off as her voice failed her.
When Sunset noticed that Rainbow Dash wasn’t walking away, she wiped her tears and looked up at her. “Why are you still here?”
Rainbow Dash grimaced and crossed her arms. “I promised Twilight Sparkle I’d look out for you.”
What? Sunset blinked. Did she actually intend to keep that promise? Twilight wasn’t even around to know if she did or didn’t. She probably wasn’t ever even going to set foot in the human world again. And, in the off chance she did, why wouldn’t Rainbow Dash just lie?
“You don’t want to be my friend,” Sunset grumbled. “It wasn’t even your choice.”
Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Hey, we don’t always get to pick our friends.” She frowned. “Well, I mean, we do, but we also don’t.” Immediately, her eyes narrowed as she started tapping a finger on her cheek. “I mean . . .”
Was this really Rainbow Dash? The same girl who’d screamed in her face dozens of times? The one who’d been first to protectively leap in front of a wave of magical destruction, and who’d taken nearly a dozen different plans to turn her against her friends? Now that the anger was gone, she seemed like an entirely different person.
“Well, you know what I mean,” Rainbow Dash finished with a conclusive nod.
No, I really don’t, Sunset thought, even as she felt a chuckle tickling the back of her throat. But I think you meant well.
A soft smile broke out on Rainbow Dash’s face.“Here,” she said, squatting down beside Sunset and extending her hand. “Hand me that other trowel, will you?”
Sunset’s stomach tied itself into a knot. She peered at the rainbow-haired girl’s face, expecting to see a smirk, but found only earnest eyes looking back. “. . .You’re offering to help me?”
Now, it was Rainbow Dash’s turn to chuckle. “Well, duh. I’m not gonna hurl it into the street or anything.”
I would have . . . Sunset admitted to herself as she reached for the second trowel and handed it to Rainbow Dash. The other girl took it without hesitation and immediately set to work on buttering a brick with the mortar. Sunset watched with a frown as Rainbow Dash wordlessly set it into place and started reaching for another one.
Before Rainbow Dash’s hand could reach the brick pile, though, their eyes met. Rainbow Dash frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t want any help?”
It took Sunset a few moments to gather her thoughts. She didn’t understand Rainbow Dash’s angle—didn’t get why she’d offer to help her, of all people, with her punishment. But, instead of dwelling on that mystery, she settled for asking a question that had been burning inside her for hours.
She looked at Rainbow Dash and hoped her tears and desperation weren’t as obvious as they felt. “Do you think they’ll ever forgive me?
Rainbow Dash’s gaze softened. There was a long scraping noise, then a dull thunk, as the other girl slid down beside her. “Y’know,” she said, drawing her knees up and staring down the hallway. “I used to be a pretty crummy person, too.”
Sunset gave her a look, but Rainbow Dash just waved her fingers. “No, really,” she insisted. “I mean, okay, I never destroyed the front wall of the school or brainwashed an entire dance or anything, but I wasn’t exactly . . . nice.”
Rainbow Dash took a deep breath. “Everybody’s the good guy in their own story, y’know? And, back in middle school, I had a heck of a story. I was popular, the captain of almost every team, a wicked guitar player, an up-and-coming black belt . . .” She paused for a moment, drumming her fingers on her knee. “I thought everyone was stoked on me. But a few too many bad jokes here, a couple of not-so-awesome pranks there, and one really bad fist fight with Applejack later, I realized that everyone actually thought I was a big bully. All the friends I thought I had . . . they were just people who were scared of me.”
Sunset was surprised to find herself nodding along with Rainbow Dash’s words. It was a different song, perhaps, but definitely the same music. She wrapped her fingers around the unzipped pieces of her leather jacket and pulled them tight against herself as the other girl continued.
“I felt awful about it. Who wouldn’t? So I know where you’re coming from, but trust me, everyone deserves a second chance.”
That sounds like something Princess Celestia would say. . . Sunset thought with a heavy heart. “Maybe,” she answered tentatively. “But I definitely don’t deserve any friends.”
Rainbow Dash actually snorted at that, and Sunset felt a sudden rush of heat flood her cheeks. “You really think that? Everyone deserves to have a friend.”
Sunset bit her lip. She’d seen Twilight Sparkle and her friends together. She’d seen the love they shared, and the way they’d stood together. They’d even been willing to sacrifice their very lives for each other. How could she ever consider herself worthy of that kind of bond after everything she’d done? She wrapped her jacket even tighter around herself. “E-even somebody like me?” she practically whispered. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Rainbow Dash to hear her; the answer was too frightening.
Rainbow Dash stood up and dusted herself off. She turned to face Sunset, and then, for the second time that night, something happened that Sunset Shimmer could never have predicted. Rainbow Dash offered her hand. “Especially somebody like you,” she said firmly.
Tears once again found their way into Sunset’s eyes as she took in the sight of the blue hand reaching down to her. She reached up and latched onto it with both hands, suddenly afraid that it might disappear into the darkness, but it didn’t, and Rainbow Dash pulled Sunset to her feet without a moment's hesitation.
“Now come on,” Rainbow Dash said quietly. “We’ve gotta get this wall built before the rest of the school gets back, or they’ll be even more ticked at you.”
Sunset nodded shakily, unable to keep her tears from washing down her cheeks. Rainbow Dash was right. It would be far easier for the rest of the students to forgive her if the destruction she’d wrought was fixed before it became a real problem. And with two of them on the job. . .
Two of them . . . Rainbow Dash was going to stay with her all night? Sunset felt a wave of relief wash over her, even as more tears threatened to follow the ones currently dripping onto her jacket. Was this what friendship felt like?
If it was, then it truly was the most powerful magic Sunset Shimmer had ever felt.
“Um, Sunset,” Rainbow Dash said with another chuckle. “I kinda need my hand back.”
Sunset jumped at the sudden interruption of her thoughts. The warmth that had filled her chest quickly extended to her cheeks as she released Rainbow Dash’s hand and backed away, rubbing her arm. “Sorry,” she said quickly. Then, she dragged her gaze back up to match Rainbow Dash’s and said: “Thank you, Rainbow Dash.”
“Just ‘Rainbow.’ Or ‘Dash,’” Rainbow said with a smile. She bent down and picked up one of the trowels Sunset had been using and banged it off on the brickwork. “That’s what my friends call me.”
Sunset nodded and wiped her eyes. “Thank you, Dash.”
Author's Note
Can somebody loan me a hammer? I'd say I need to blow all this rust off, but it's been so long I'm pretty sure I'm gonna need a hammer.
