Author's Note

Contains some more frank wording and descriptions of rape. Also some self-victim-blaming.

Over and over and over and ov

"Oh, that's alright, Rainbow Dash. I'm having a great time with my friends right here!"

She twitches.

Her lower parts hurt.

The back of her head hurts.

Something about her friends reminds her of-

-she doesn't know what-

"Sillee Peenkee! You are reminded of Monsieur Gâteau, becauze I am here viziteeng from home to comfort you!"

Madame le Flour titters politely. Her voice is a little sharper than her husband's, but like all of her friends that seem to come when she needs them most, she's not cruel. Her laughter isn't cruel.

She can tell.

She's so lucky to have such good friends.

Rainbow Dash shudders. She's grown used to her bouncy pink friend's hyperactivity, of course, and she herself is a well-known speed demon, but this...she's having trouble keeping rose irises focused upon the dark pink Earth Pony zipping from inanimate object to inanimate object, changing her voice's pitch and accent with disturbing ease as she shakes the objects as if they were speaking.

She feels like she's missing out on a conversation, even with all of the bits that Pinkie and her...friends...are saying out loud.

"Aaalrighty. Whaddaya say we get on outta Creepytown and head over to Applejack's-"

Her head hurts.

Her tummy hurts.

Mr. Turnip comes to the rescue. She can't muster up a smile right now, but he knows how grateful she is. He can just feel her emotions like that.

She's so lucky.

"She's not going anywhere."

His bold words give her just enough of a confidence boost that she can fight off the nausea and the taste of salty vomit to level an even stare upon Rainbow Dash.

"I most certainly am not!" She turns to face the table full of her friends.

She blinks.

A bunch of random, assorted, inanimate objects carefully balanced upon various chairs and stools meet her eyes. She feels something hot pressing into her pee hole over and over and over and over and ov

er and over and over and o

ver and over and

o

v

e

She blinks.

Her friends are giving her concerned looks.

Her grin still doesn't reach her eyes. But she's grateful.

She's so lucky.

"I'm having a wonderful time right here."

She was wrong.

Rainbow Dash had thought that the scariest thing about her party-loving friend in this state is the vacant stare in her eyes and the way her whole body violently shudders in erratic patterns at random points in time.

She was wrong.

The scariest thing about Pinkie Pie is how that gleam of understanding will come into her gaze from time to time, and she'll stare with a thousand-yard stare about a million times worse than any she's seen from the veterans at the old folks' home she volunteers at sometimes. How dark things will swirl within those muted, almost navy blue irises as she breathes so shallowly that the prismatic pegasus fears that her heart may have stopped, that she might have simply ceased to live while still sitting there with a half-frozen grin spread across her face.

She doesn't know if she wants to break Pinkie out of her little world anymore.

She doesn't know if she's wrong about that, and it's terrifying.

She walks over to the pink pony, carefully reaching out a blue hoof to Pinkie's shoulder.

"...Pinkie Pie?"

A squeal leaves the other, and those dull, dull eyes brighten right back up, and it's like she had never stopped moving, never stopped grinning, and those eyes frantically dart to the hoof on her body, to Rainbow Dash, to the place where their bodies connect, then back to Rainbow Dash.

She immediately drops to her belly, rolling onto her back before wriggling underneath the pegasus and over and over and over and over and ov

er and over and over and o

Darnit, she just has the worst luck with eggs!

"Oh, dear, don't fret! I think it's lovely that you took the risk of testing the batter. These cupcakes are simply delightful!"

For some reason, the wind is knocked out of her. Was the room always so...spinny?

The ringing in her head sounds kinda funny. It's almost like someone's shouting. Almost like someone's shouting her name.

Funny.

Funny!

FUNNY!

She glances down at her belly. She cocks her head.

Weird. Usually she's had an accident by now.

"PINKIE PIE!"

Oh. Somepony has been yelling her name.

She feels a bit silly now. She hopes she hasn't been ignoring them for too long.

She stands up, wobbles, then collapses into a half-splayed laying position on her belly.

Her head hurts.

That's normal, at least.

She likes normal.

She looks towards the source of the yelling. Finds a blue pegasus standing about three feet away from her. Tensed. Hesitant. Cautious. Worried.

Worried?

She giggles.

This is a party! Parties are no place for worry.

But she doesn't speak. It's not nice to cut somepony off.

She can't breathe. Okay, well, she can breathe, but she half-wishes she couldn't.

Everything is swirling around in her head in a maelstrom of emotions and Tartarian sensations that her heart is all too happy to pump throughout her strung-tight body.

A stray breeze reminds her that her nethers are still damp from where Pinkie had started to furiously - and yet so skillfully, she shouldn't know how to do that, she's always seemed so innocent, and they've only just hit adulthood, and she doesn't ever cuss, she can't even begin to understand how or why - lick at her genitals.

She shudders. She wants to throw up.

She reminds herself that Pinkie Pie is not a rapist.

She doesn't care what just happened. She will push it out of her mind if she needs to convince her emotions of this fact. But she knows that Pinkie Pie is not a rapist.

She's loud, bouncy, cheerful sometimes to the point of being annoying, borderline addicted to sweets and her party canon, loves her sister Maud Pie more than anything, and is so loyal that she could probably rival Rainbow Dash for her own element, but she is not a rapist.

So there has to be a reason behind what she just did.

Because this is not a sexual situation.

It never was.

And she just tried to make it one. Because Rainbow Dash put a hoof on her shoulder.

Because Rainbow Dash tried to comfort her by touching her shoulder.

A non-sexual, comforting, gentle touch to the shoulder.

She blinks.

Her friends are gone.

Madame le Flour is a slightly misshapen bag of flour.

She turns, desperately, to Sir Lintsalot.

He sits silently, because 'he' is just a pile of lint from underneath the front counter.

She looks back to Rainbow Dash.

She looks scared. Confused. There are tinges of hurt in those gentle eyes.

And yet, distantly, she knows that the other mare should be mad at her.

But she's not.

She's tense, and maybe ready to defend herself again, or run this time.

But somehow, those eyes let her know that she won't be attacked.

She can't just communicate with Rainbow Dash like she can with her...friends. But she knows how her pony friends are. She knows them well enough to be able to read them correctly most of the time.

An all-encompassing sense of shame overwhelms her in a tsunami of horror, grief, and self-disgust, and she smashes her face into the floor of Sugarcube Corner - in the back of her mind, she hears a muted crunch and a following wetness and knows that she broke her nose - before beginning to bawl.

She doesn't know why she did it.

She knows why she did it.

She doesn't know why she did it.

She knows why she over and over and over and ov

er and over and over and o

Every time they touched her it was just the start of another rape - she knows that word now, now that she's older and lives far, far away from them - and they trained her so well and she's so disgusted with herself and over and over and over and over and over a

nd over and over and over and ove

There's the steady sound of gentle, quiet hooves clopping closer to her, until a slightly trembling, warm presence lifts her head up, and something soft presses itself to her nose - she knows that she should probably be screaming in agony, she knows that she's broken it bad, but everything hurts so, so much and her nose is not one of those things - and in the tiny spaces of almost-clear vision she gets when she blinks away the cascades of tears, she finds saddened rose eyes and a soft blue wing held up to her face in a semi-futile attempt to staunch the flow of blood from her busted nose but she just can't stop crying and the tears keep flowing over and over and keep hitting the floor over and over and her stomach hurts from her heaving sobs because she keeps sobbing over and over and over and

over and over and over and over and o

Her stomach hurts so much it hurt so much then and it doesn't hurt nearly as much now but it still hurts and she's just as bad as them she's just going to continue this trend she should be locked up she should die she's nothing she'll rape others she was raped over and over and she'll rape others over and over and over an

She doesn't realize that she's been talking out loud until a firm but still careful hoof comes up to cup her jaw, Rainbow Dash locking her eyes with Pinkie's in a steady gaze, her brows furrowed.

"Hey."

She eases her expression just a little, switching wings when she realizes that the first is smearing blood everywhere and not absorbing much of anything anymore.

"I...I'm not good at comforting ponies that...aw, shit, Pinks. I'm not good at comfort, period." She manages the tiniest, most grief-stricken smile that Pinkie's ever seen.

The party pony's mangled heart feels just a few shards pulled together by it.

"But I don't need to be good at comfort to say that you're never going to be as bad as them." The hoof moves from her jaw to wipe away some tears before coming back down to rest on her cheek so, so carefully, even though those are soon replaced by more. "In fact, you're not even close to being as bad as them." She pauses to think for a moment, humming in thought. "Them? They're like...they're buffalo shit. No, they're the flies on buffalo shit. No no, actually, they're the Celestia-damned bacteria on the flies on buffalo shit."

A wheeze of a laugh leaves Pinkie. It quickly devolves into a coughing fit as the action pulls mucus and spit into her lungs, but even still, she's smiling afterwards.

The corners of her eyes are crinkling with the smile.

Her eyes are still dull, but the smile's there.

"But you, Pinkie? You're the sunrise. You're like, the reason all the colors in the sky mix together when Celestia raises that giant flaming orb. You're the feeling of the wind rustling through my feathers - and you and I both know how much I love flying - and you're the feeling everypony feels when they walk into a seemingly boring room, only to have all of their friends yell 'surprise!' as you fire off your awesome party canon." She opens her forelegs for a hug, giving Pinkie the choice whether or not she wants to allow for more bodily contact, and smiles as trembling pink hooves wrap around her neck, nuzzling into the fur there as she carefully wraps her own around Pinkie's shoulders. "You, Pinkie Pie, are perfect, and don't you ever forget it."

She doesn't know how long they hug.

She doesn't care.

She's so lucky.

She really believes it this time.