Story 1: Dreams of Glory
How could this happen?
Why did this happen?
In my state of mental self-pity, these questions and more ran through my head, driving me to the point of near insanity. The fluorescent lights above my hospital bed shone down onto my crown, illuminating my mane so I looked angelic.
Wow, that was corny. Note to self, don’t make a living creating metaphors.
The white sheets that covered me had smells from patients past, disgusting smells. You’d think the hospital would do a better job cleaning the sheets for their patients. After all, who’s to say the last patient who slept in these sheets didn’t have some incurable, infectious disease that I could very well pick up now, simply from being unfortunate enough to get their sheets.
Not that I cared, my life felt empty right now. I had nothing.
I rested my head back, my rainbow-mane spread out onto the linen pillow-case as I stared up at the ceiling. I couldn’t see myself, but I could only assume that I had the most pitiful expression on my face. It was no great mystery that I felt sorry for myself, something never wanted to do. After all, I hated pity, especially self-pity.
I always had to be the strong one. I’m the one, who in dire situations keeps everypony sane with my cool, calm demeanor. The one that everypony could count on to lead a group if they needed a guide.
Well, me and Twilight. Gotta give her credit as well.
And now, here I was, messy-maned with disgusting, used sheets covering my bandaged body as I lay in the hospital bed, sticky with my own sweat, staring off into nothingness.
Could you blame me for being a little upset? It seemed like only yesterday that I was soaring above the clouds like always, feeling as the white puffs of vaporized water danced around my body.
At least I think that its vaporized water, that’s what Twilight always told me. An egghead like her would know; she spends most of her life buried in books about things most ponies would consider mundane, or unimportant.
Personally, I just think it’s flat-out boring.
Not Twilight, though. To her, everything is important; even studying the different types of plants in the Everfree Forest. What did she call it again? “Researching the effects of Ponyville on Everfree flora?”
Regardless, she was taking notes on vegetation located at varied distances from the town. I guess it was to see if we were polluting too much in Ponyville? I don’t know, and honestly, I really didn’t care. It was dumb, boring nerdy stuff anyway, why should I look into it any more than I have to.
And I have no reason to express any interest in the plant life coming out of that creepy forest, especially after what happened with that poison joke.
While my lavender-colored friend did her thing with the plants, I slept in my cloud as I always did, visioning myself flying with the Wonderbolts, wearing one of those blue, skin-tight suits with the yellow lightning-bolt that always dazzled me whenever I saw them.
I could feel the wind rush through my mane as I flew in formation, crowds of eager and excited ponies watching us as we broke formation so I could pull of my special trick, the trick that was always used to cap of a successful show.
The sonic rainboom. My sonic rainboom.
Unfortunately, whenever I would have this totally wicked-awesome dream, I would wake up right after pulling off this trick. The trick that I knew would send the crowd into thunderous applause, praising me for being remarkable.
But I never saw the happy crowd, nor heard the bombastic applause. I didn’t get to witness any of the joy my tricks brought to anypony. I never got to feel that sense of accomplishment I always did whenever somepony patted me on the back for doing something truly amazing.
Celestia knows how much I crave everypony’s approval and praise.
Guess I’ve always had a bit of Chihuahua syndrome, always trying to amaze everypony and prove myself to the nay-sayers. Those days I was taunted by the boys at flight school, telling me I couldn’t do it, that I wasn’t good enough.
Then I did my sonic rainboom, and everything changed. I was looked up to, most ponies respected me, and they actually paid attention to me in a good way. Well, except for a select few jerks that said it was all an “old mare’s tale”, even though they saw me pull it off as a filly, in a race against them.
Bucking idiots.
But for the most part, the days of fending off verbal assaults from bullies were gone. And if anypony did give me trouble, I’d find some way to shut them up pretty quick.
Yep, everything improved.
My confidence also went up, especially whenever others gave me kudos and revered me.
Like Scootaloo, what a great kid she is.
Sure I tended to act aloof around her. In fact, I acted like I was the coolest pony around, something that wasn’t exactly false. But I would always try to show my appreciation for her support with a little noogie or joke; something sisterly.
But the thing that made all of this possible, the thing that gave me confidence when nopony else paid attention to me, was my flying. My amazingly fast, super cool flying that dazzled all of Ponyville and I hoped, would eventually do the same for all of Equestria in the future.
My wings were my life, flying was my life, and yet I never truly understood how much I took each of these special gifts for granted. I guess that nopony expects to have something taken from them right when they’re at the pinnacle of greatness. At the point of almost achieving what one always wanted to achieve, only to watch it crumble at their hooves into a pile of broken dreams.
Again, I should really stay away from the metaphors.
I remember waking on that cloud to Twilight shouting at somepony down below to “slow down”. I peered over the cloud to see her at the very edge of the Everfree. Spike was standing next to her, using a feather to scribble notes onto a small, white pad of paper.
Twilight had a very annoyed look on her face, and her front hoof was tapping the ground impatiently. Spike’s face was in one of his hands. His head was shaking in disapproval about something that I still didn’t see.
I was confused about the behavior of the unicorn librarian and her dragon assistant, until I saw what, or in this case who, Twilight was staring at.
About ten feet to the side of her were none other than the cutie mark crusaders, all laughing, hopping around and singing some of their theme song. They seemed completely unaware of the violet mare’s glare, her clearly aggravated eyes boring into them like daggers.
I smiled at the sight.
“What are you three doing here?” Twilight asked.
Apple Bloom looked over at the unicorn with an innocent smile, “Oh, hey there Twilight. We was just gonna go into this here forest ta see if we could get our cutie marks in insect study.”
“Girls, you know how dangerous this forest is, don’t you remember the time you ran off to get Fluttershy’s chicken and ran into that cockatrice?”
“I remember you got stoned.” Scootaloo said with a bratty smile, which made both Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom burst out into laughter.
I’ll admit it. From up in my cloud, I couldn’t help but laugh a little at her joke. She reminded me of myself, and how I acted when I was her age. Brash, eager to please…actually, that’s not too different from how I act now.
“No, I got turned into stone.” Twilight said with an eye-roll, “Look, you three can’t go in there. It’s way too unsafe for three unsupervised fillies, especially ones like you that are magnets for trouble.”
True, these girls would find a way to make a pillow factory into a deathtrap.
“Aw, come on Twilight, please.” Sweetie Belle said with pleading eyes.
“No.” Twilight hissed before she enveloped the three in her magic and levitated them away from the mouth of the forest, dropping them to the ground with three, light “thuds”. “Don’t let me catch you three around here again, it’s very dangerous.”
All three girls somberly nodded before turning around and slowly slinking away; heads hung low, eyes downcast, and tails between their legs.
I sighed before resting my head back against the cloud, staring up at the bright, sunny sky above me. Even lazily drifting off on the cloud, I felt empowered, the only thing above me the sky, clouds and the sun, which warmed my fur to a comfortable degree.
Everything else was below me; I didn’t even see any other pegasi flying around at the height I was at. I was truly at the top of the world.
I slowly let sleep take me as the sun continued to radiate off of my cyan fur. My dreams were, as always, about me as a Wonderbolt; the group flight, the sight of Soarin’ to my left and Spitfire to my right, the break in formation, the climb up high in the sky, the descent towards the ground.
I felt the familiar pressure on my body as a white cone formed around me, my torso stretching slightly due to how fast I was flying. My mane and mouth blown back, tears forming in my eyes as the pressure increased more, and more, and more.
I could do it this time; I could do the sonic rainboom. I could see and hear everypony cheering for me, shouting my name, calling me the best, and I’d know I was the best.
I could silence all non-believers and prove that I was worthy of reverence.
I broke through the cone; a loud “BOOM” rang throughout my ears, a brilliant array of colors spread out around me. I prepared to hear the applause and cheering that I’ve waited for all my life, the praise that I loved, the feeling of worth that it gave me.
And then I woke up.
Looking around I could tell that it was evening, Celestia's sun slowly making its descent so that Luna could raise the moon and bring us the night. I sighed, turned myself over so I was face-down and buried my face into the cloud. I let out a massive, annoyed groan that was stifled by the cloud.
Why did I always have to wake up right before the best part? Why, right when I was about to see the crowd praise me for a magnificent feat; did I have to wake up?
Fate’s cruel like that, I guess.
Taking solace that it was just a dream, and that someday I would get to see the public’s reaction for real, I pushed myself up into a standing position and sighed.
“Patience Dash, patience. You’re time of glory will come.”
I stretched, letting out a large, borderline obnoxious yawn that probably would have provided a good view of my tonsils had anypony been there to see it.
“Heh, Rarity wouldn’t like me doing that around her.” I thought with a grin before I got down and propelled myself up into the air, flying high up. Higher, higher than most of the clouds that were once above me.
Now they are below me, just like everything else. Eventually, I came to a stop and looked down. I may not be the most artistically-enthused pony around, but even I had to admit that the scenery was beautiful, like it came out of a painting. Looking around, I watched as the sun slowly crept below the horizon, making way for the moon.
“Dang Princess, you and your sister sure know how to make a sun-set beautiful.”
With that last thought, I began my gradual descent towards the ground. I listened to the owls chatting with each other. I listened to the wings of bats flapping around me, not so many where it became a nuisance, but enough that the rhythmic beating of their wings made me feel relaxed.
It was all like some pretty, natural music whose beauty only the sky could create.
I closed my eyes and smiled wide. My blue wings, my pride and joy, spread out like a canvas as I made my way down towards the picturesque landscape.
Eventually, I stopped descending so that I hovered about twenty feet above the ground. I often wondered if I looked like I was treading water to others when I did this, like I was in some vast ocean. But I guess that isn’t too far from the truth, after all I was like a fish, and the sky was like my personal ocean to swim in freely.
Ugh, these metaphors are so silly.
I was about to fly home when I heard a shriek come from deep within the thick, convoluted Everfree forest. I looked at the massive wall of vegetation, completely perplexed.
“What was that?” I thought in horror.
And as if to answer my question, a young, panic-stricken voice came from the forest.
“Run!”
I recognized it immediately. I should have, I heard it almost every day when the little orange filly trotted underneath my cloud to ask for another one of my autographs, my number one fan, the little one that admires me like I’m on par with Princess Celestia and Luna.
“Scootaloo.” I gasped. “Oh no what did you three get yourselves into this time?”
Without a second thought, I quickly flew into the Everfree, careful to avoid the hanging branches and vines that seemed to define the entire forest. I heard the screams of three very frightened fillies a little ways away. I also heard a blood-curdling, gut-wrenching roar that actually made me stop flying, fright had frozen me like a hail-stone trapped in the air.
My mouth hung open as memories flooded my mind memories of a similar sounding roar. The giant, yellow best with a lion’s head, dragon wings and a scorpion's tail. The monster that Fluttershy was able to soothe with her calm, friendly demeanor before pulling a thorn out of its paw.
“A…manticore.” I swallowed hard.
Not one to simply give up due to my own fears, I let out a long, drawn-out sigh before continuing my flight further into the forest. Eventually I came to a clearing. The moon shone directly overhead, trees lined both sides of the clearing so that it was almost in a circular shape. I was about to continue with my pursuit when I saw the terrified faces of Scootaloo, Apple bloom and Sweetie Belle burst through the bushes directly up ahead. They looked so frightened, so helpless; it made me even more nervous for what was to come.
Almost immediately after the Cutie Mark Crusaders made their grand appearance, so did the familiar lion-like beast. He had a coat that was a darker shade of yellow than the fur on the manticore we saw when searching for the elements of harmony.
His eyes showed no remorse, there was no thorn in his paw, no glimmer of kindness. He was malicious, simply out for the little girls’ blood and hunting them like they were his prey.
I was thinking so much about the monster that I failed to realized the ponies running over to me.
“Rainbow Dash!” Sweetie Belle shouted.
This got my attention. I shook my head to level my thinking before I turned to the girls with the most serious, dire expression I could imagine. I tried to hide my fright. After all, I was the awesome Rainbow Dash; I wasn’t supposed to be afraid of anything, not even a creature as terrifying, intimidating, and blood-thirsty as a manticore. But even with my attempt to create an emotional poker face of sorts, I knew my eyes showed the dread I felt, for all three girls to see clear as day.
But I was still responsible for the, what with me being the oldest.
“Guys, get over here!” I shouted.
Looking back, this exposition was completely unnecessary, as the three girls almost reached me by the time I shouted for them to come.
Unfortunately, they were coming in too fast. Before I could say anything, they plowed right into my face, sending us all tumbling to the ground. My back slammed against a tree, knocking me senseless for a minute. My body felt worse than that time Applejack accidentally bucked me after I snuck up behind her to give her a little fright.
And trust me; that really hurt.
My back against the tree, hoof rubbing the back of my head, I listened as the three fillies screamed their little lungs out.
I opened my eyes to a blurry scene, my mind still trying to recover from the hit. Three different colored blurs, one white, one yellow and one orange, lay sprawled out on the ground near me.
Once I blinked a couple of times, my vision cleared. I could see all three girls were not staring at me, they were staring, mouth agape, eyes wide, bodies frozen, at the manticore that was now looming over us. He had a menacing look in his eyes, as if he was having a mental battle over which one of the three fillies to eat first.
His attention didn’t even seem to be on me, it was only on the three tasty morsels in front of him.
This was my chance. I rose onto all four hooves, got up into the air and flew directly at the manticore. It was a direct hit; I slammed square into his chest with my head and sending him to the ground. Usually my head-butting didn’t cause me too much pain, but this time it did.
As I tried to recover, I felt something grab my left wing and hold me up in the air. My eyes fluttered open to see the Manticore looking me square in the eyes.
My breathing stalled. I became too frightened to move.
He was smiling; his razor-sharp teeth glistened in the moon light. They weren’t pearly white; they were tinted a gruesome yellow. A coloration most likely caused by his consumption of past victims; victims that it looked like I might be joining in a matter of moments.
Suddenly, and without warning, the manticore tightened his grip on my wing before slamming me into the ground. Pain was everywhere. My body, after making contact with the ground, hurt worse than any pain I’ve ever felt.
My wing, the wing in this beast’s grasp. I couldn’t even feel it.
Okay, I did at first. For a brief moment, there was a searing, sharp pain that ran through my wing as he slammed me into the ground. But that pain passed, and now all feeling, good and bad, was gone.
Was it broken? Was it dislocated? Paralyzed? I don’t know, but for the first time in my life I couldn’t feel the comforting presence of both my wings attached to my back.
I could only feel one.
I was slowly lifted back up to the Manticore’s face. His smile; that sadistic smile, told me he wasn’t going to just kill me; he was going to torture me. Torture me and let the three Cutie Mark Crusaders watch.
“No, don't hurt her!”
I turned to see Scootaloo running towards me, a worried look on her face. I tried to tell her to stop, to stay back where she was safer. Either that or run for her life along with her friends.
“Scootaloo” I squeaked out in such a weak voice, Fluttershy would have told me to speak up. Right after I said this, a small trickle of blood ran out of my mouth, dripping onto the ground beneath me as the manticore held me about four feet from the ground.
I usually loved being high up, hundreds of feet in the air as I soared majestically through the clouds. For the first time in my life, I was actually scared of being high up.
At that moment, he slammed me back into the ground. I screamed in pain, but I don’t think I emitted much of a sound, as my scream was mostly muffled by the dirt my muzzle found itself pressed into.
Now I knew my wing was paralyzed and bleeding, as I felt the blood run off my back, down my sides and onto the grass. I didn’t feel the blood, nor did I feel any pain, in my wing. I still felt nothing.
The manticore lifted me up off the ground. I managed to see a horrified Scootaloo staring at me. I knew she must’ve been looking at my wing, and I knew, without actually seeing it, it must’ve looked disgusting.
The manticore turned me so I was facing him, his eyes angry, but his smile genuine, as I could tell he genuinely enjoyed seeing me in pain.
Just before he threw me into the ground again, I saw a flash of magenta, followed by the manticore being blasted back. I didn’t have much time to wonder what caused such an attack; however, as I felt myself fall to the forest floor. Not as hard as the other two times when the manticore tossed me around like a rag-doll, but it still was enough to hurt.
I drowsily looked around to see Twilight using her magic to lift the manticore up into the air. Also present were the rest of my friends. Fluttershy went over to the now restrained monster to see if it was hurt badly.
Heh, typical Fluttershy. Even the beast that slammed me to the ground needs to be checked up on I guess.
Rarity and Applejack both reunited with their sisters. Apple Bloom and Applejack hugged tightly. Once she got her arms around Sweetie Belle, Rarity blubbered like a baby. Sweetie Belle simply rolled her eyes at Rarity's antics, but I could tell she was relieved to be save and sound in her sister’s hooves.
Pinkie Pie trotted over to me, an uncharacteristically sad look on her face. Her blue eyes, usually so full of joy, now showed only concern.
I started to drift out, the exhaustion from the fight, coupled with the amount of blood I assumed I was losing, taking its toll on my body as darkness began to overtake me.
Just before I was completely unconscious, I caught Scootaloo’s face, her eyes filled with tears and sorrow about my predicament.
She ran over to me, looking like she was about to wrap her own legs around me in a comforting hug when I finally succumbed to darkness and blacked out.
*********
I woke up in a hospital bed. I had no idea how long I was out, but by how I felt I assumed it had been at least a couple of days. The sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a linear pattern of light over my body as I lay weak under the sheets, which had a potent odor then so I know for a fact it wasn’t just me that caused them to stink to high heaven.
The first thing I noticed was the pain. Even the small, rhythmic drip of the morphine couldn’t help cure me of that agony.
Bandages covered my body, from my torso to my forehead. Dried blood stains could be seen coming through some of the dressing. It probably needed to be changed. But the cleanliness of the bandages was the least of my worries as almost every square inch of my body hurt like crazy. Everything that is, except for my wing.
I could feel one wing perfectly fine, and by fine I mean it was achy. But that was mostly from lack of use, as I obviously have been lying in this disgusting bed for a few days. But my one wing, my left wing, I couldn’t feel it at all.
I remembered the fight, how the Manticore slammed me to the ground and how I almost instantly lost feeling in my wing. Slowly, I reached my left hoof behind my back to see if my wing was damaged, and if so how badly. What I felt was worse than any of my previous assumptions.
I didn’t feel a wing; I just felt a small lump bandaged up right where my wing should have been. Immediately, my heart rate began to rise as panic started to set in. My chest rose and fell rapidly as my breathing increased. I felt like I was going to pass out
“No, this isn’t happening. This...this isn’t happening, please.”
Eventually my heart monitor started letting off very strange beeping noises and a nurse had to come in. She looked at the monitor, then back at me just in time for me to shout at her, “WHERE IS MY WING!”
The nurse took a step back in fright at my sudden outburst. She then seemed to gather herself and trotted over to my side, “Rainbow Dash…you were attacked by a manticore…”
“I know that.” I hissed, “But why can’t I feel my wing?”
The nurse looked down and closed her eyes. It was an expression nopony would ever want to see from anyone in the medical profession, especially when they’re asking about their health.
“Well, you see…”
She was suddenly cut off when a doctor trotted in. He had a brown coat and white doctor’s jacket.
He was the same doctor I had back when I broke my wings.
“Rainbow Dash, how are you feeling?”
He was smiling, but I could see right through it. Nothing but a charade, an attempt by the kind doctor to make me feel better.
To bad for him it failed.
“I’ll know once I hear an explanation about my left wing.” I growled, pointing to the spot on my back where it should have been.
The doctor let out a sigh before he spoke, “When you came in, you were unconscious, but badly injured. Most of you could heal with time but your wing…”
I just stared as the doctor waited. He eventually appeared to gather what he was trying to say, and finally answered the question.
“…there was no saving it.”
I swear if one of my feathers fell to the ground, each and everypony in that room would have heard it hit the floor. Upon hearing those words, it was like somepony pulled the cloud out from under me. It took me a few seconds to fully grasp what the doctor had told me.
My wing was gone.
I slowly reached back to confirm the news, hoping that maybe this time I’d find my wing, that this was all some sort of sick, cruel joke.
Once my hoof touched the still damp bandage, running over the lump where my wing once was.
It was true, my wing was gone.
I closed my eyes and turned away from the doctor. Tears began to break through my closed eye-lids and run down my face, dampening the sheets beneath my cheek.
“I’m sorry Rainbow Dash.” he said sympathetically, but I was too upset to care.
“Leave me…” I said meekly.
“Rainbow…”
“Leave me alone!” I shouted, but instead of sounding threatening, it just sounded pathetic. My voice cracked as I lost control over my emotions. Normally I would never stoop so low as to break out into tears in front of others, but this couldn’t be helped.
I looked away from the doctor and sobbed. My dreams of flying with the Wonderbolts, heck…my dreams of flying in general were gone; finished. The thing in life I was most proud of, the thing that made me who I was, and gave me the confidence I needed when surrounded by doubt, gone. I was nothing, a broken pegasus whose dreams came crashing down like my body when the manticore slammed me to the earth like a sledge-hammer
My one means of proving to the world I was something special, something little fillies could go home and one day dream about becoming, were dashed in a matter of seconds.
I wasn’t used to feeling sorry for myself, nor do I like feeling sorry for myself, but I couldn’t help it. For the next few days I exchanged few words, even with the nurses as they came in to check my vitals. I hardly ate anything, to the point where the doctor had to come in again and convince me to eat. He wasn’t successful until he threatened to send me to the hospital’s therapy if I continued being stubborn.
Of course when the idea of being trapped in a small room with a therapist who acted like she understood, like she actually cared about my situation when in reality she couldn’t possibly fathom the agony I was in, was almost enough to make me a binge eater. Whenever food was brought to me, I ate everything on my tray. I didn’t enjoy it, I didn’t smile, but I ate it, like it was a job.
And still, a smile didn’t cross my lips at all, and I only spoke when my friends came to stop by. Even then I spoke the bare minimum. Apparently the three fillies I saved all wanted to see me, especially Scootaloo. But the doctor didn’t want them to see me for a few more days, hoping by then I’d be in better spirits.
I’m pretty sure he dropped that notion rather quickly as two days after I woke up, he noticed I was still avoiding eye contact with him.
“You know, Rainbow Dash, just because you can’t fly doesn’t mean you can’t still lead a rich, fulfilling life.” He said.
“Yes it does.” I growled.
“Surely there’s more to life than flying.” He said. I didn’t make direct eye-contact with him, but by his voice I could tell he was genuinely concerned.
Still, my stubbornness won out.
“Not for me.”
With that, the doctor let out a sigh before leaving me alone to sulk in my own misery. Once I heard the door to my room shut, I turned around and punched the pillow with my hoof before I collapsed into it face-down to stifle my sobs. Even then little, sad sounds were audible. I had to bite down on the pillow to quiet myself even more. But it was no use.
About five days after I woke up, most of my bandages were off. Apparently most of my injuries were cuts and bruises, so the pieces of gauze didn't have to stay on for long. But I still had a few broken ribs, a concussion...and only one wing.
During this time, I also went through most of the stages of grief. From shock to denial, then onto bargaining with Celestia. Heck; during that stage lI actually said I’d give up my home if I could have my wings back, fully functional and ready for flight. Then, of course, there was the stage of guilt and the stage of anger. And I was angry, oh boy was I angry.
As the doctor who dared mention the notion that “there was more to life than flying”, found out.
Most of my rage was, rationally, directed at the manticore, as even in my grief-stricken mood I could never bring myself to blame any of my friends, especially the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Right now I was in the state of depression, and I didn’t know how I’d get over it, if I’d ever get over it.
Acceptance was supposed to be the next stage, but the pony that came up with these stages (Twilight would know that) didn’t take me into account. My wings weren’t just a part of me, they were me. Without my ability to fly, what was I? Just another pony living in Ponyville, a pegasus with one functioning wing.
I dreamt about making crowds cheer for me, and how could I do that with a stump in place of a wing?
As I continued to revel in my mood of self-pity, the door to my room creaked open. I looked up to see a very sad looking Scootaloo slink her way into the room through the crack. Her eyes looked glazed over, like she had been crying non-stop for days before she was able to visit.
When I lay eyes on her, my heart stopped and I felt like someone sucked all the life out of me. Not only was it so sad to see little, spunky Scoots in such a down mood, especially when it was because of my troubles, but to know that she was feeling sorry for me was like a stab to the heart. Kids don’t feel sorry for their heroes, they look up to them, admire them, aspire to become like them.
If my number one fan, the pony that admired me more than anypony else, didn’t see me like a hero anymore, then I truly felt like I had no life left to live.
“Sorry I couldn’t come sooner.” She said regretfully. “The doctors didn’t want me to see you until you started showing signs of improvements. They treat me like such a little foal.”
“What do you want Scoots?” I asked with a sigh, trying not to sound too depressed for the filly’s sake, but knowing how pitiful my attempts to seem neutral truly were.
“I…I just wanted to say…thank you Rainbow Dash.” She said without looking at me. “For saving us.”
“Great, now she can’t even stand to look at me. She pities me. My number one fan pities me. That’s it, my life is ruined, I give up.”
Scootaloo looked up at me, tears in her eyes and guilt in her face. She burst out into tears. While crying hysterically, ran over to me.
She jumped onto the bed, a height I didn’t think a little filly like her could reach without the use of wings, and threw her arms around me in a tight hug. I was stunned by her sudden showing of affection, so stunned that I just sat there like an idiot as she sobbed into my shoulder.
“This is my fault. All of it, if I didn’t convince Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom to head back out to the forest once Twilight went home…” she took a deep breath. Her apology, coupled with the sobbing, was apparently making it hard for her to breathe normally, “…you’d still have your wing…you’d still be able to…to…”
She couldn’t finish off her statement and just continued to cry on and on.
“Scoots, hey kid calm down. I don’t blame you.” I said. “I would never blame you.”
And I meant it. Just because they were stupid and ran into the forest didn’t mean they caused my broken wing. The manticore, and the manticore alone, did.
“It’s just…how can I ever be like you if I do stupid things like that?”
I chuckled, “Listen kiddo, if I had a bit for every stupid thing I did growing up I’d be living a life Rarity would envy.”
This seemed to cheer her up a bit, so I decided to press on, “Besides, you don’t want to be like me. You want to fly, and I can’t…not anymore.”
I looked down, a feeling of sadness started to take over. I felt myself slipping back into my depression, the state I was still in, no matter how cheerful I tried to be in front of Scootaloo, which was clearly a failure as tears started to run down my face.
Note to self, never get into acting.
But then Scootaloo said something I didn’t expect, something right out of the blue.
“What does flying have to do with it? I still think you’re the greatest.”
I looked up at Scootaloo, who gave me a weak, yet still comforting, smile.
“But…but I thought you were my big fan because of my flying and speed.”
“That was only part of it.” She said, now smiling like she usually did in my presence, “I admire all of you. Your bravery, loyalty, strength…” she then gave me a suave look like you’d expect from somepony trying to impress another individual, “…your coolness and swag. Not to mention how you make it cool to be a tom-boy.”
Even with the tears running down my cheeks and landing on the bed beneath me, I snickered before looking up at Scootaloo, who continued with her dissection on why she looked up to me.
“You’re the pegasus I want to me, whether you can fly or not.” She then backed away and showed me her wings, “Besides, it’s not like I can fly yet. Who knows, maybe I never will.”
She sounded a little more depressed as those words left her mouth.
Now it was my turn to cheer her up.
“Don’t say that Scootaloo, you’ll be an awesome flier. Someday, when you become a Wonderbolt, I’ll be in the stands, watching you, cheering for you.”
As the words left me lips, it just occurred to me. Our roles were reversed, now it was her turn to accomplish what I now knew I never would be able to. Her eyes lit up like a pair of violet candles, her smile growing wider, wider, until she gave me another big hug. So big, in fact, that I could feel pain shooting through my body.
But I fought through the pain for the time being and hugged her back with all the strength I could muster. We stayed like that for a while until the nurse stopped by to tell Scootaloo that visiting times were over. She hopped off my bed and trotted over to the door. She then stopped and turned around to face me, giving me the biggest smile imaginable.
“I promise I won’t let you down Rainbow Dash."
And with that, she left the hospital and the nurse slowly closed the door. I sighed and rested back against the pillow of my bed, the smell no longer having an impact on me as I drifted off to sleep.
I remembered the dream I had that night. It was very similar to the ones I always had, yet different.
I saw a Wonderbolt’s formation flying towards us. I was in a massive crowd of ponies, all eagerly waiting for the grand finale.
Suddenly, a Pegasus made her ascent higher into the sky, her purple mane blowing in the breeze. Her eyes were hidden behind her goggles, but I knew she must’ve had a look of pure concentration, ready to pull of this feat.
She began to fly down at a very fast rate; I could feel my heart beat faster as the familiar white cone formed around her body, the same cone I embraced me as I flew at my top speed.
She was getting closer to breaking through it.
Closer…closer…closer…
BOOM!
The Wonderbolt exploded from the cone, leaving an orange and purple sonic rainboom in her wake. I immediately joined the crowd in giving her thunderous applause, stomping our hooves down on the ground in excitement as she came to a stop in front of the stands.
She waved to the crowd, eyes scanning everypony until they landed on me. She stopped and, even though she was some distance off, I could see her smile grow. It was like she was smiling directly at me.
And I knew that she was.
I gave her a smile of my own and waved back at her. She then turned her attention to the rest of the crowd, gave them her own little wave, and then flew off to join the other Wonderbolts, all of whom were giving her praise and congratulating her on such a magnificent feat. Patting her on the back, extending their hooves to be shaken, heck Soarin’ gave her a little hoof-bump like she was one of the “bros”.
As they all flew off, the crowd still sheering, shouting the name of the Wonderbolt with the purple mane, I couldn’t help but feel proud, content even. I might not have won over crowds like I wanted to in my dreams, but seeing my number one fan get such a following helped me realize it didn’t matter if I couldn’t fly, I still had a purpose. Not to mention my dream was no longer dead. In fact, it was alive. She was living my dream and I couldn’t be prouder.
“Congratulations Scoots.”
And like that, in this wild dream, I entered the stage of acceptance.
