An Imperfect Storm

by Bookish Delight

Rating: teen
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other, Lightning Dust
Length: 5518

Lightning Dust and Rolling Thunder have a problem—and that problem is being themselves. Unfortunately, it's also the only thing that makes them happy.

Since their ejection from the Wonderbolts Academy, Lightning Dust's and Rolling Thunder's lives have been ones of constant self-discovery and atonement.

On paper, this is good.

In practice, both of these things are constantly at odds with each other.

Art by Gabbslines.

Published 2019-09-13 23:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-09-13 23:40:01 UTC

1: Approach

It was a dark and stormy noon.

The thunder was everywhere. The lightning was everywhere. The rain fell in small but harsh droplets, signifying that while things weren't at their worst, they could certainly get there.

Still, the elements were everywhere and ever-present, to a degree that Lightning Dust had never seen in her life, and never wanted to see again once this was all over.

If it's ever over, Lightning thought to herself through deafening rumbles and crashes. Looking around herself, she still wasn't sure it would be. Sometimes, the storm seemed more life form than natural phenomenon. As if it knew what it liked, and what it hated—and ponies were definitely on the latter list.

Oh, and it also felt as if it could easily last forever, if it wanted to. That last bit was important, given who caused the weather in the first place.

Stupid Storm King and his stupid grudges. How did we even get a Storm King, anyway? And why does he have to be such a total butt? And... Lightning gritted her teeth. Ugh! Why isn't there anything I can do about it?

She knew that wasn't entirely true: she'd been herding any pegasi less flight-skilled than herself to safety for hours now, getting them into houses safe from the storm. But "hours" in this weather was still a massive stamina cost, even for her. It was all she could do to navigate the chaos of the skies without getting herself hurt at any given moment—or worse, embarrassed.

Lightning Dust loved a good storm. But even the fiercest storms ended after some time, giving those under them time to rest. This was just tiring. Frustrating. Confusing. Discouraging.

Which, she realized, was likely exactly what the Storm King was going for.

She heard another thunderclap, sensed the electricity in the sky, and pulled a side roll just in time to dodge another bolt of lightning. It was that sense of hers that earned her her cutie mark, and at no other time was she happier that this was so than right now. After quickly making sure her saddlebag of supplies was safe, she steeled herself, straining not to lose her pace.

Because other ponies might still need her help. It was the least she could do, since she was able. It was what a Wonderbolt would do, she told herself.

Even though she wasn't one.

And yet, for the first time in years, thanks to this storm, she felt as if her life held some of those old things she used to believe in, like "meaning" and "purpose". Lightning closed her eyes and sighed. All I've ever wanted, really.

A boisterous, triumphant whoop cut through the storm, and through Lightning's thoughts. She perked up, wondering just what was going on. The whoop was followed by laughter. Lightning changed course, following the sounds to find a set of particularly angry-looking black storm clouds, all tossing lightning in bursts... and then to see a single pegasus pony amidst them, dodging every single one.

A mare's voice rang out, even above the thunder, in a distinct accent she'd rarely heard save for a few scattered wanderings to Equestria's southern regions.

"Aww, yeah! That all you got? Come on, you bugger of a storm, give me more! You ain't got nothin' I ain't seen in the wilds back home!"

Lightning could barely believe it. This mare was actually egging the storm on? Not that the weather could hear her, but still, this she had to see. Lightning flew closer, with the goal of being able to make out just who this pony was through the storm's darkness.

Finally, she got close enough to realize that the reason that this mystery mare was so hard to see was that her coat was a deep navy blue, which camouflaged with the storm almost perfectly. If not for her wavy white mane which waved in the breeze, Lightning would have missed her presence entirely, even with how loud she was being. "Hey!" Lightning called out.

That got the mare's attention quickly. She picked up her head, darting it around. "Oi! Who's there?"

Lightning flew closer to the new pegasus. "Uh... call me a concerned citizen?"

A few moments of visible hesitation passed before the mare replied. "Heh. Then color me concerned too! This storm is dangerous and you shouldn't be up here."

Lightning almost laughed. "Back at you! I'll be fine, don't worry. Still, this may be a stupid question, given what you're doing out here, but, uh... do you need any help?"

The mare hesitated again, before giving a rueful chuckle. "I mean, maybe in general, sure. But with this storm? Heh. It's about ten years too early to take ol' Rolling Thunder down—" A huge clap of thunder boomed across the sky, and she tensed up. "Watch out!"

The mare zoomed to Lightning Dust just as the latter felt a huge surge which sent her coat standing on end. Had she still been flying, it would have been fine, but dodging lightning from zero-speed hovering? That was a skill Lightning was admittedly still working on.

Fortunately, she felt several pounds of mare slam into her at that moment, allowing them to both dodge a massive, blinding arc of electricity... and also sending them hurtling into a nearby grey cloud that was thankfully exhausted of rainwater.

A soft, yet stunning ploomf marked their crash landing.

"Oi! Oi, you okay, mate? I swear, you die 'cause of me, I'll haunt you myself! Wait, no, that's not how it goes..."

Lightning opened her eyes to see the mystery mare looming in front of her with a concerned face. She sat up with a groan, clutching her head. The thunder still rumbled, though this time with an uncharacteristically relaxing cadence. There'd be another surge soon, no doubt, but at least for now, she could take a breather. Slowly, her bearings returned. "Thanks," Lightning said, running her hoof through her mane.

The navy blue mare still looked at Lightning worriedly, even when stepping back. There was a scar on her eye. Had she gotten it during this storm? "It's okay, I'm fine," Lightning added with a semi-forced smile. "Heck, I was wondering just how long my luck would hold out tonight."

The other mare shifted her eyes towards the sky, then back to Lightning. "Yeah, well. You shouldn't press it."

"Back at you again," Lightning said, remembering the mare's words just before they'd had their first conversation. "Your name's... Rolling Thunder, huh?"

"Saw that bit, eh?" Rolling said, just barely failing to hide a blush. "Yep. Exactly what you see on the tin. I roll with it. It talks to me, I talk to it, we have conversations, it lets me know what's up." Her eyes sparkled with a faraway excitement. "Meaning I get to enjoy the dangerous parts. What about you?"

"Lightning Dust," Lightning said. "I can feel it coming, so it never touches me. I'm also about as fast."

Rolling's eyes went wide as plates. "No kiddin'?" she said, bursting into laughter a moment later. "Crikey, what are the odds of the only two mares in all of Equestria suited for all this nonsense meetin' up—actually, no, that makes right proper sense, don't it?" She laughed again.

Lightning laughed as well. Finally, a reason to feel the tiniest bit happy in this storm. "Yeah, I guess so. Nice to meet you, though. Wish it were under better circumstances, but..."

"Likewise on both counts," Rolling said. "Heh. If this Storm King business ever ends, I oughtta go back to the Wonderbolts with 'surviving this' on my resume. Outflyin' the worst weather Equestria's seen in ages with nary a scratch, and saving your cute flank in the midst..." She glanced at Lightning with a small smile. "Let's see their precious Dizz-o-Tron match that, eh?"

Lightning held back her own blush. "Ha! Know what you mean. I don't fear Spitfire's little toy, though. Already got the fastest speed and time on that. Way past regulation settings."

Rolling raised her eyebrow with a "hmm" of approval. "Impressive. Endurance record over here. Max regulation speed... but never left the machine." Rolling leaned in closer. "For twelve hours."

Lightning gaped. "Whoa. Wait. Back up. You said 'back to the Wonderbolts' and 'let me on.' And you know about Spitfire's crazy tests! But I don't see you wearing their colors. Did you..." Lightning trailed off, waiting for Rolling to say what Lightning fully expected her to.

When Rolling stayed silent, it threw Lightning off more than any words could have. "Right. Sorry, if it's too personal a question." Lightning checked to make sure her saddlebag was safe, mainly to keep from fidgeting. It was. "You've got supplies, right?"

She looked to see if Rolling had a bag. She didn't. Which also struck Lightning as odd. A lot of ponies had gotten caught unaware from the Storm King's attacks. But Rolling was the only one of those ponies who had been flying towards those attacks when they'd met.

"Right. Well, then." Rolling hopped back to her hooves, and outstretched one to Lightning. Lightning took it, and got up, meeting the other mare's eyes. Something about them made Lightning more and more curious the more she looked into them. Rolling was still smiling—she had been for a while now.

But her eyes were not.

Rolling was more than happy to meet Lightning's gaze for as long as possible... until she looked back out to the skies. "Feel like getting back in there? If only to find a better place to rest?"

Lightning nodded.

The two pegasi spread their wings and pushed off.

2: Impact

It was the Washouts' first week on tour in Ponyville—and team founder Lightning Dust was enjoying her day immensely so far.

A huge reason for this was her latest piece of awesome hardware, which she'd devised in less than twenty-four hours! When the Washouts' newest recruit said she couldn't fly, and instead passed the time motorboarding with her wings, it had done two things to Lightning.

First, it had caused her to nearly faint from adorableness. Second, it had inspired her. Inspired her to think outside the box, to scheme, to invent, the way no stunt coordinator had ever invented before!

And now, it all existed, and it was all in front of her. A way cooler-looking board than the filly normally rode, with the biggest combustion engine ever powering it from behind, rested at the top of the nearby hill. Said engine and hill, when working together with gravity—every pegasus's favorite force of nature, no sarcasm, we totally promise—would allow the board to make the raddest jump ever over twenty wagons!

Also, the wagons miiiiiight be on fire when the stunt actually started. But Lightning had decided to withhold that little detail until it was absolutely relevant. No sense in overloading her new recruit's young mind with possible "risks" that almost never mattered in the moment.

The whole setup had actually cost her more bits to make than usual, but it was the rule: for new ponies, always go all out to impress them. Don't give them the chance to have second thoughts.

The Washouts' new recruit was going to fly, no matter what—or, at the very least, jump real good. Once Lightning was done flying Scootaloo to the launch site, anyway. Five seconds later, they both landed in front of the contraption that would blow everypony's mind. By Scootaloo's expression, hers was the first to be blown—a good sign.

"W-Wow," the orange filly said, scratching her pink mane with her hoof. "That sure is—"

"Dangerous? Nah." Lightning thought about it for a full second before then amending, "well, maybe a little."

"Has... anypony tested it before?" Scootaloo asked.

"Where's the fun in that?" Lightning replied, just barely managing to hold in several peals of laughter. She mentally reminded herself that Scootaloo was new, and all new Washouts were... well, new. Scootaloo would come around to see their side fully in time. They always did.

The ones who were good enough, anyway.

Still, maybe Scootaloo had the tiniest bit of a point. Lightning added a few extra strands of duct tape to the rocket. No sense in not being careful until the newbie could get used to how they did things in Lightning's outfit: no tests, no consequences, no waiting. The Washouts were not the Wonderbolts, thank Celestia, and they never would be.

An idea flashed in Lightning's inventive muse, and she added another, smaller rocket to the duct tape, with more duct tape. The legends were true—the stuff really was a mare's best friend. She nodded in satisfaction at her hoofiwork, and looked over to Scootaloo when the filly gasped.

"There's... m-more?" Scootaloo squeaked, with wide eyes.

Lightning Dust was a bastion of patience, but even hers was finite. These officially sounded like second thoughts, and there had never been room for those in her life. She stood upright, forelegs on hips, doing her best to be intimidating, but not too much, as she talked down to Scootaloo. "You're not thinking of backing out, are you?"

"No!" Scootaloo said instantly. "I'm just thinking of drinking through straws."

Again, Lightning almost laughed—but held it in. Still not the time. She groaned inwardly, however. Spitfire's little warning spiel had gotten to Scootaloo. Which meant that Lightning would have to work harder to counteract.

Though maybe not too hard?

When it came down to it, all Scootaloo needed at this moment, so close to their moment of victory, was a little push. Just like Lightning herself had needed, when her naive dreams were shattered thanks to the actions of a certain rainbow-haired pegasus. Just like her teammates had originally needed, when faced with the jaws of certain danger or worse. And just like Scootaloo would benefit from, to make her forget about her flightlessness.

If the Washouts were going to really push past the despair that came with being rejected by the mainstream, by pegasi as a whole... then they would have to forge their own way.

And they would have to do it fearlessly.

Besides: "Are you the president of my fanclub, or not?" Lightning asked with a scoff. She saw the mild panic on Scootaloo's face from hearing that. Good. That would prove a good distraction during the stunt!

"Of course! It's just—"

Lightning refused to let up. Second thoughts were poison. "You wouldn't want to get impeached for dishonoring my wishes, would you?"

"I—" Scootaloo stopped. "Is that a thing?"

Maximum distraction achieved. She picked Scootaloo up, plopped her onto the rocketboard, and screamed out to the rest of her team from atop the hill:

"Light it up!"

Now, it was relevant. One by one, the tops of the wagons at the bottom of the hill burst into flame. Soon, the ground held an amazing line of pyrotechnics that nearly moved Lightning to tears with its present spectacle, and the promise of even more once this stunt was pulled off! She. Could not. Wait.

Scootaloo, on the other hand...

"O-okay," Scootaloo said, raising her masks's eyewear. "I am thinking about backing out."

No. No. Not on Lightning's watch. Especially not at the moment of truth! "Too late!" Lightning said, as triumph coursed through her. She pushed the ignition, and the rocket-powered board took off like... well, a board with a rocket strapped to it.

Moments later, as Scotaloo careened down the hill with the barest amount of control, Lightning wondered if she'd come off too strong. She shook her head. She had to. This was it. This was the moment. This was when she would show Rainbow Dash just who was real stuntpony material! The pony who once looked up to Rainbow now looked up to her, and she was going to be proven right!

Especially since Scootaloo had just gone down the hill and up the lifting ramp, and was now sailing sailed over the flaming wagons, exactly according to plan. This was awesome! This was incredible! The jump was going great—

Wait a minute, what was that? Lightning rubbed her eyes, and took out her binoculars.

Oh. One of the fastening ropes was still attached to the rocket. No worries. Still, sloppy. She'd have to reprimand whoever was responsible when the stunt was over.

A flash lit up her binoculars' view, causing Lightning to avert her eyes. When her vision came back, she refocused her binoculars, and looked closer.

The rope was on fire from the end, eating away at the rope as it the flame moved towards the rocket itself. Fueled by the air around it, it moved extra fast.

There was risk, and there was stupidity. Cursing herself for crossing the line into the latter, Lightning Dust spread her wings, prepared to launch herself towards Scootaloo at top speed. She glanced to the ground below to see Rainbow Dash doing the same. The two of them always had been in sync at the Academy, and even now...

Lightning shook her head. She would win. She was done playing second fiddle to ponies who were absolutely full of themselves.

She flapped her wings to take off, and... nothing. She tried again, and again, with the same grounded results. Why did her wings feel so heavy all of a sudden? At this moment, they may as well have been made of lead. Completely useless. She looked down to Rainbow, to see her struggling as well. The same fate appeared to have befallen her.

Even in the stands, everypony could see what was happening, and were all suitably alarmed—but Scootaloo was far too high for any unicorn magic to be in effective range, even for the Princess in the audience, and every single pegasus around was somehow flightless.

As Lightning's frustration built, a thought nagged in the back of her mind: was this how Scootaloo felt all the time? "Rainbow!" she called out, looking at the crowd, then at the blue pegasus—who was staring back at her with a vindictive glare.

Rainbow's lips moved. Even given the distance between each other, Lightning still heard her clear as day.

"You see, now?" Rainbow's words might have been out of earshot, but they echoed through her mind. "You were wrong. I told you were wrong, Spitfire told you you were wrong, the Wonderbolts told you you were wrong! But did you listen to any of us?"

Rainbow cast a hoof skywards in Scootaloo's direction, then looked right back at Lightning, crossing her arms with a scoff. "Everything about you is wrong! And it always will be!"

Lightning grit her teeth and shook her head, fighting Rainbow's accusations. She didn't have time for a lecture right now! Maybe later, once the kid was safe, but not now! "Scootaloo, look out!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

At the peak of her jump, Scootaloo seemed to hear everypony's cries. Lightning realized this because her vision inexplicably closed in, flying through the sky, even without binoculars, until she could see Scootaloo as close as if she were flying right next to her. The rope was mere feet from the engine now, and upon looking down and behind herself, Scootaloo had at last realized the full direness of situation.

In a panic, Scootaloo held onto the handlebars and flapped her wings, which only caused her to float slightly, and fall over the edge, helpless to her fate, holding onto the edge of her board for dear life.

What few moments were left of it. Lightning's view was zoomed even closer now, face-to-face with Scootaloo as the latter held tears in her eyes, realizing what was about to happen.

"I-I trusted you!" Scootaloo's sobbing wails penetrated Lightning's mind and heart as easily as Rainbow's accusations had. "You told me it'd all turn out fine! You told me—"

Those were Scootaloo's last words, as an explosion shattered Lightning Dust's world.

3: Aftermath

Lightning screamed, springing upright in her bed, her wings flapping uncontrollably, her gasps for breath ragged as she grasped for something, anything, for support. Blankets and sheets weren't enough. Her pillow wasn't much better, but it would have to do, as she yanked it close, smothering it utterly.

Moments later, her training kicked in—not her usual daredevil drills training, but her personal, inside training. Her mind immediately got to work, telling her that it was okay. That it was only a dream. That these dreams had happened all too often before. That they were only dreams, and that while they were scary, they'd die out soon.

It was completely okay to be scared. But it would also pass.

Based on experience, her mind was right about this maybe half of the time—though that was based on a sample set of dreams she normally had about dire things happening to herself. Or her teammates.

Never someone outside their circle. Never someone doing a trial run to get into their circle.

Never someone innocent.

Fortunately, her mind knew what it was talking about tonight. Her breathing calmed. Her wings slowed. The fear was still there, of course. There would always be the fear, the stress, the sadness, the chills, the uncertainty of life in so many forms, and again, these were all okay. But at least her mind and heart had slowed down enough now to be aware of all of these things, once again.

"Oi! Lightning!" a voice sounded from outside.

Speaking of teammates. Lightning knew who it was, but shook her head—this was an emergency. She needed to sort this out on her own, figure out what it meant. "Go away," she barked, a little rougher than she would have liked upon hearing herself.

Several quiet moments passed, enough to encourage Lightning to try going back to sleep. However, just as she was getting ready to relax, her eyes were flooded with light as the magitorch near the far end of her tent's wall was flicked on. Standing at the opening was a long-necked purple pegasus with a white curly mane, and a scar-accented piercing gaze that Lightning already knew she could never avoid.

"Darn it, Thunder," Lightning said, now far poutier than she had been going for. "I said, 'go away.'"

Rolling Thunder shook her head. "Nothing doing, mate. That's three nights and three screams. I didn't pry on nights one and two, but at this rate, none of us is gonna get any shut-eye, on account of even Short Fuse never getting as loud as you do at three-am."

The boldness of that claim prompted Lightning to fix Rolling with her own stare—upon which, Rolling relented the tiniest bit. "Okay, maybe he still holds the record. But at least you can set your watch to him. You talk to him, you takes your chances, and we're used to it." Rolling's eyes narrowed. "But we never know what's gonna set you off, now, do we?"

Lightning cast her gaze away, towards the other side of the tent. She had no retort to that, regardless of how much she achingly wished she did.

With her eyes averted in the opposite direction, she never noticed Rolling Thunder approach her, until she felt an extra weight plop down to the side of, and slightly behind her on her bed—and, very soon, felt a soft hoof caressing her back, sliding soothingly across her coat.

And then came, Rolling's voice, just as soft, actually softer than Lightning had ever heard from her teammate before:

"Dustie. Talk to me."

Lightning tried. She tried several times over the course of the next few minutes, as Rolling's impromptu massage did its job, keeping her grounded, if not centered—and just barely, if nothing else, giving Lightning an emotional flashlight with which to navigate her own personal rabbit hole amidst the occasional shiver.

Why was she like this? She was Lighting Dust, darn it. She was the mare who told the Wonderbolts to shove it after they were stuck up enough not to accept her way of stunting, and then went and made her own thing the way she liked it—and the way other ponies clearly did too!

Lightning raised her head, her eyes pointing forward.

Yes.

She was Lightning Dust. She'd lived the dream, lived it her own way, and found others who actually agreed with her point of view. Living well was the best revenge, right? The book should have been closed. None of this, none of the night scares, none of the screaming and crying behind closed tents when the acts were over, none of this should be happening, she shouldn't—

Scootaloo's terrified face flashed in front of her, just before an explosion. A loud whimper escaped Lightning's throat unbidden, and she retreated into her pillow, hugging it tightly to her torso as chokes gave way to sobs.

None of what Lightning dreamed had actually happened, in the end. What had really happened, in really real reality, was that Rainbow Dash had zipped in at the last moment, making a heroic rescue just before the explosion that admittedly made Lightning jealous with how awesomely timed it was. On top of the whole 'saving a life' thing and all.

Scootaloo was alive. But if Rainbow had been a second later...

No. Her dream was right.

She was Lightning Dust.

And she was the worst.

And at that very moment, she understood: nothing at all could ever change that.

She sought solace in her pillow, as if it could substitute for any sort of self-esteem or personal balance, while also being able to soak up an infinite amount of tears.

After some time, however, she felt a tug on that same pillow. On reflex, Lightning firmed her grip on it. But the tug against it intensified. Lightning looked up, seeing what she expected to see—Rolling Thunder pulling against the pillow, not roughly, but nudgingly. At least at first. When pulling at the pillow didn't work, Rolling went for Lightning's forelegs instead.

"Lightning," Rolling said, matter-of-factly, but never threateningly, never angrily, and using one of her hooves to turn Lightning's head so they were face to face. Rolling's smile was just as gentle and disarming as her actions, a smile full of hope and reassurance—two things Lightning found in short supply right now and had no idea whatsoever where her teammate was getting them from.

She decided to relent, just a little, in hopes of finding out.

"Come on," Rolling intoned, slowly pulling Lightning's forelegs away from gripping the pillow. "That's it, now. You can do this." When Lightning's hooves were away from the pillow, Rolling grabbed it, flung it to the side, got off the bed, and parked herself beside.

"On me," Rolling said. "Let's get you some fresh air."

Using just enough energy she felt she could spare—which wasn't much given how she'd already spent most of it trying to calm her pounding heart—Lightning slid out of bed and mounted Rolling. With a mighty flap of her wings, the latter rose above the ground. With several more flaps, they flew out the tent and headed skyward.

Lightning Dust wrapped her forelegs around Rolling Thunder's frame and closed her eyes, grateful to let someone else do the heavy lifting for once.

4: Shelter

Lightning Dust and Rolling Thunder flew at half altitude, still looking for shelter. The Storm King's wrath was still something to worry about, but slightly less so for the time being.

Flying side by side, Lightning had seen that Rolling had been silent for quite some time now—and flying as close to each other as they were, she could also see the other mare lost in thought, distracted enough that she only barely remembered to keep formation.

Lightning wasn't sure if she should try to start up a conversation, or just leave things as they were. Fortunately, Rolling solved that problem for her by finally speaking up.

"Sorry about my little slip earlier," Rolling said.

"Huh?" Lighting asked.

"Y'know, the whole 'Wonderbolts' thing." She rolled her eyes. "Not a thing I like bringing up. Though I guess I lucked out with you. Misery loves company, I suppose. Sorry that means they've both still got to indulge."

Lightning shrugged, just as another thunderclap happened. The two dodged three lightning bolts, one after the other, in an aerial slalom, and in perfect sync. They looked at each other and nodded.

"It's okay, I don't mind talking about it. Besides, it just means they weren't for us," Lightning said with a grin.

"Hah! Understatement," Rolling said. "So, even with my shiny record? Didn't make it past the first week. Spitfire kept saying stuff about me not taking this 'seriously enough'." She scoffed. "Still don't know what she meant by that. Thought the Wonderbolts were all about impressin' ponies!"

"Right?" Lightning laughed. "Turns out they are, but they've got a million rules before they let you do that. In a mock imitation of Spitfire's voice, she droned, 'Sorry Lightning, we know you're the best, but we can't have you endanger ponies around you while proving it!'" She scoffed as well. "That's what got me kicked out.

"But, meh, It's fine. I've had time to think about it, and you know what? She was right about one thing. Some ponies just aren't made to handle the hardcore life, and they don't deserve getting dragged into the dangers by ponies who are. But it also meant I could never go back. The Wonderbolts just aren't me."

Lightning zoomed ahead, darting back and forth across the sky in front of Rolling, bucking any and every cloud she met, poofing some out of existence and causing others to rumble. Feeling a familiar tingle, she flew under the rumbling clouds, narrowly dodging several brand new lightning bolts on purpose.

With a squeal, Lightning flew back to Rolling, relishing the eyebrow-raised, impressed look on the latter's face. "The rush is my life! Leaving lightning in the dust is what makes me me."

Rolling nodded with a chuckle. "I might know a little something about that, yeah."

"Figured you would. So, new plan: if I'm gonna endanger somepony, I'll just do it to myself twice over, and leave everypony else out of it."

"Heh. Likin' that philosophy. Still, not sure how much it helps, knowin' we just washed out of our biggest life dream. Some pegasi apparently have more than one. I envy 'em. But for me—and you too, it looks like? It was Wondies Or Bust, there's only one Wonderbolts, and they've already closed the door to us." Rolling glanced to her side, avoiding Lightning's eyes. "Now, here we are. Drifters."

Lightning was going to reply, but something caught her out of the corner of her eye. "Hey, look down there," she said, pointing to a cave. The two flew down, made sure it was deserted, then allowed themselves to sigh and relax on its floor. "Wow. Only now do I realize I've been flying for hours. I need a rest."

"I'll admit it 'cause it's you, but I could use a breather too. Good fly, though. We..." Rolling trailed off. "Ahhh, forget it."

"No way! We're stuck in a cave together for who knows how long this storm lasts! I'm 'forgetting' nothing." Lightning inched closer. "What's on your mind?"

Rolling put her hooves together. "I was just thinking... I mean, there can't be too many of us out there. Pegasi, deemed 'not good enough', but still passionate about what we do. Still killer flyers." She looked at Lightning, her cheeks tinting. "Still have a gift of gab." Her eyes twinkled. "Maybe we should stick together?"

Lightning looked back with a wide smile. "I think that idea's fantastic. Provided we can get out of here, you can be my wingpony anytime."

Rolling laughed. "I think you mean, you can be mine."

The two met eyes.

"We'll race for it," Lightning said.

The two nodded in unison.

"You got it, mate," Rolling agreed.

"Cool. Now that that's settled..." Lightning looked around. "Ugh. It'll be hard to get a fire going in this storm, or even something comfy to sleep on, but... here." Lightning reached into her saddlebag, took out two wrapped hay bars, and gave one to Rolling. "I noticed you didn't have any food with you."

Rolling took the hay bar, stared at it as if making a very important decision... then looked back into Lightning's eyes. Lightning smiled back, doing her best to be as reassuring as possible.

Finally, Rolling looked back at the bar, unwrapped it, took a bite... then took several more, very quickly. "Okay, guess I was hungrier than I thought. You wouldn't, uh, have any more, would you?"

"Bout a dozen." Lightning gave Rolling a few more.

"Awww, thank you, love." Rolling breathed, biting into another one. "Seriously, thank you so much."

Lightning giggled. "I mean, they're just hay bars. They're like two steps up from junk food."

Rolling looked at Lightning one more time—and this time, Lightning noticed, Rolling's eyes were different again. They contained life, now.

In more ways than one.

"Nah," Rolling said. "Trust me: they're perfect."