It was dark, with the copse of trees blocking out even the light of the moon and stars. The lake’s waters churned barely visible in the glow of the fireflies and a single oil lantern resting at the end of a short dock. Moored beside it, bobbing up and down slowly in the water, was a small wooden rowboat, a decrepit old thing that looked almost eerie in the flickering light.
An equine form sat hunched over in the centre of the vessel, her shallow breaths intermingling with the water sloshing below and the crickets chirping somewhere in the woodland beyond. She held a hoof to her forehead, propping herself up to some semblance of being upright. Beside her in the boat sat a plastic cup, empty, and two bottles, still on their way.
With some effort, she lifted her head slightly. One deeper breath billowed out in a cloud before her, the first cloud she’d had a hand in crafting in quite some time. Her gaze didn’t linger on it long, though; Rainbow Dash was already at work, hoofing open the lid to one of the bottles and pouring herself another cup, filling half from one bottle and half from the other. She held the cup in her hoof, swirling it around, and then took a big sip. As she pulled the cup away from her lips, she let out a reflexive shudder.
Minutes passed, and the cup drained quickly—too quickly. Gone before she knew it, hidden out of sight but filling her to the brim. Rainbow closed her eyes, just sitting there still for a few minutes, trying to keep a hold of her head as the water tried to push it along.
“I’m so stupid.” She could barely feel herself saying the words but there they came anyway, choked but ringing in her ears. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
That’s not a very nice thing to say, she could imagine a voice saying. My Rainbow Dash is brave, and strong, and really quite intelligent. How else could she have gotten this far?
But there was no voice to say it, not hers nor anypony else’s. There was only the water, and the insects, and the whipping of the wind through the trees, and her hoof hitting hard into the side of the boat.
Rainbow Dash screamed. She shouted her lungs out, filling the lakeside with a knifeful of raw emotion. She screamed and screamed until she could no more, careening backwards and causing the small boat to shake as her head hit the bow. It didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve.
But she groaned all the same, leading her weary frame into a coughing fit. The boat convulsed, threatening to capsize, but somehow it never did.
“I miss you,” she breathed, once she finally was able to. “I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.” She sucked in her cheeks, staring at blackness that could have been either the side of the boat or the night sky above, she couldn’t tell. “It’s not fair. I don’t... I don’t get it. Why the fuck...?”
Her words trailed off, since there was nothing more to say, and sometime minutes later she blacked out.
The bell chimed as the door swung open, and a sky-blue mare slid inside the store. Her rainbow mane was not as lustrous in the low light inside, but it still gave her a certain gravitas as she strode forward, and as her matching tail swished slightly side to side. But she didn’t linger; the mare moved quickly, reaching first over to a cooler by the door and pulling out a bottle without a second thought. She slid it into an open pouch of her saddlebag before moving on, stepping over to the tall shelf beside the entry. Her eyes scanned the shelves for a moment, even though she’d already spotted what she was looking for; perhaps she didn’t want to seem too obvious, too eager. Sighing, she reached up for the green bottle and lifted its weight into her bag as well before turning to the counter.
“Good evening, miss,” came a masculine voice, one she oddly didn’t recognise. When she turned, she could see why; there was an employee she’d never seen before working the register. Probably a new guy—he looked kind of young, charcoal bangs in a messy sprawl over his burnt sienna coat.
“Evening,” Rainbow Dash rasped back, trotting across the room. She averted her gaze as she unloaded her precious cargo onto the counter, and then reached back for her coin purse.
“Ah, gin and tonic. A classic.” He flashed her a toothy grin, one which for some reason made her skin crawl. She shifted uncomfortably as he took each bottle and scanned it, setting them back on the counter as he went. “May I please see your ID?”
Rainbow gulped. “Yeah, just a sec.” Her hoof rummaged around her saddlebag for a few moments before finding the laminated card, and once she pulled it out she slid it across the counter.
“Rainbow Dash, huh.” The stallion smiled. “Pretty name.”
The cerulean mare felt a pain in her chest, but said nothing. She watched as he squinted further at the card and then nodded approvingly.
“You’re older than I thought,” he commented. “I-I mean, not that that’s a bad thing. You don’t look too young, just—”
“I get it,” she said flatly, cutting him off. “What do I owe you?”
“Um...” He glanced at the register. “Nine bits.”
Rainbow let out a dry laugh as she opened her coin purse, counting out the requisite number of metal pieces. “There ya go,” she said, sliding the coins across the counter with a wing. Without waiting for a response, she took each of her bottles and slid them back into her saddlebags where they belonged.
“Thanks,” the stallion said, but Rainbow had already turned to leave. “Um, hold on a sec.”
Rainbow Dash nearly just kept walking, but she decided to humour him. She stopped, turning her head. “What’s up?”
The stallion laughed nervously. “Well, I just wanted to ask—you’re a pretty mare—would you happen to be free tomorrow evening? I’d love to take you out for dinner.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes, shaking her head; it wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. “Sorry, dude, I have a ma—” Something clicked dizzyingly in her head, and the words died in her throat. “Um, I mean, I’m gay. I like mares.”
The stallion’s face fell, but he nodded. “Ah, my bad. Sorry for the trouble then.”
“S’fine,” Rainbow grumbled, turning back. She stepped out of the store and back into the fading evening light outside.
She awoke to a slight bob, a thrumming early rhythm that at once felt timeless and new. Then, the splitting pain, erupting out from her cranium and threatening to swallow the whole world and her along with it. It was only the gentle lull of the waters that saved her, sweeping her from the darkest depths and back up to the clouds.
When Fluttershy came by later that day, the yellow mare was puzzled once again by the empty bottles left behind in her boat—just like there had been almost every day for the past couple weeks. She had her suspicions, of course, but she wouldn’t say anything. It wouldn’t be right.
