Where You Are

by TheRedFox

Rating: teen
Tags: Wonderbolts, Spitfire, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, Sad, Other, Tragedy
Length: 1534

My favorite place is wherever you are, but I don't know where you are.

Winter is over and spring is here. That doesn't make Fire Streak feel any warmer.

A commission for the madman HapHazred, who requested 'something with Fire Streak.'

This story was a Quills and Sofas Speedwriting entry where it placed third. Thanks to Mushroom, Lofty, Vis-a-Viscera, LostinFandom, Snow Quill, Nopony Pones, and Decaf for their thoughts during the contest.

Published 2021-02-17 22:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-02-17 22:00:00 UTC

Folded Flag

“You didn’t have to come.”

“I did. I’m the captain.”

Fire Streak glanced at her, but Spitfire’s eyes were hidden beneath her signature pair of sunglasses. She adjusted her tie and cleared her throat, keeping her head still and unmoving.

All around them, Ponyville was full of life as the last of winter began to bleed away. Spring was coming to life, like a newborn creature ready to gaze upon the world. It normally was a sight that warmed his heart, but not today. Never today.

“It’s this house here,” he said softly, gesturing in a direction with a wing. The two slowed to a halt as a wagon full of ponies trotted by, singing and chanting to each other.

Spitfire nodded once. “Is she… is she going to be home? And not out and about doing winter work?”

“Probably,” Fire Streak answered as he tugged on his cap. “You remember what Misty… what Misty said about her asthma.”

“What Misty… yeah,” Spitfire answered. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I… uh… here we go, I guess.”

Fire Streak extended a wing and patted her on the back. “You really didn’t need to come.”

“I did, damn it,” Spitfire muttered. “Stop saying that. I’m the captain.”

“Yeah but there’s not really a set protocol, you know? I mean, I’m sure--”

“Fire, shut up,” Spitfire seethed. “Just shut up.”

Fire Streak didn’t reply to her outburst and only nodded. “Right. Just… know I’m with you, every step of the way.”

Spitfire nodded again and took a step forward. The two headed down the snowy path as it crunched and melted beneath their hooves. As they approached, Fire Streak took in the home: it was a quaint and tiny two-storied building. It practically bled warm colors, with its perfectly polished windows eagerly awaiting for spring to come.

All too soon, they climbed the porch stairs and Fire was knocking on the oaken door.

There was a rustling from within, and Fire found himself holding his breath. For a millisecond his mind went blank, all of the other night’s rehearsal and preparations suddenly disappearing from his mind.

Next to him, Spitfire shuffled on her hooves and drew a little closer to him. He focused on the door, feeling very cold beneath his dress jacket and cap. The sunlight bounced off of the row of medals proudly arranged on his chest. A row of reminders that no matter how much he accomplished…

The thought died in his mind as a shadow appeared on the other side of the door. It was pulled open and a weary unicorn in an apron appeared, a flower pot in her magic. Her eyes widened as they locked on Fire Streak’s medals. “Y-yes?”

“S…” Spitfire’s voice broke, and she had to inhale sharply to start again. “Sunshine Petals?”

The pot fell from her magic. It hit the ground and shattered into a million tiny pieces. Sunshine’s breathing began to quicken, her mouth forming words that her body couldn’t voice. “N… N… N…”

In two synchronized movements, Spitfire and Fire Streak drew themselves up to full height, standing in rigid, perfect posture. Their right forelegs raised upwards and bent, with their hooves touching the brims of their hats.

“NO!”

Sunshine Petals wailed, stumbling forwards as tears streamed out of her eyes. Fire Streak met her, and the unicorn’s forelegs were thrown violently across his back as her head buried itself in his chest. “WHY?!”

Fire Streak lowered his head with a quiet sigh, patting the mare on the back several times. The sun was beating down upon them but it wasn’t warm, and Fire Streak, despite everything, was still cold.

“F-FUCK!”

There were cautious whispers from behind them, but they quickly dispersed as Spitfire whipped off her sunglasses to glare.

The mare in his arms wailed again and began hitting him in the back, but Fire Streak didn’t react.

“Let’s go inside, ma’am,” Spitfire offered.

Sunshine wailed again, and Fire Streak guided her through the door. A cursory glance of the home’s interior revealed a living room adjacent to the entrance, and the two helped her to a sofa.

“M-Misty,” sobbed Sunshine, tightening her grip on Fire Streak. “My sweet Misty.” Fire Streak sat down, gently helping Sunshine do the same. Sunshine pulled her head from his chest, leaving several tear stains against his jacket. “C-Commander, what happened?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Spitfire inhaled sharply, her usually intense eyes softening. “Sergeant Misty Fly passed away in Griffonstone, at approximately oh-six-hundred this morning from medical complications. On behalf… on behalf of the Wonderbolts, the entire Equestrian Armed Services, and myself… I am truly sorry for your loss.”

The words came out shakily, though they had been rehearsed dozens of times the night before.

Fire Streak remembered the night vaguely: being awoken by a cadet with an urgent telegram from Griffonstone. A long talk with Spitfire. The Captain destroying half her office in a rage.

In all their years Fire Streak had never seen Spitfire cry once. This time it was different.

Sunshine nodded, and Fire Streak offered her a tissue. She spoke as she wiped her eyes, her voice cracking and breaking with every other syllable. “I… I thought this would happen. Ever since she got sick. I told her not to go to that new academy. To stay here, where I… where I could take care of her.” She dabbed at her eyes as the tears began again.

“I did too,” Spitfire blurted suddenly. “Misty… Misty was special to us. She was a friend. When that position came up we all begged her not to take it. To stay here so the docs could keep an eye on her…”

“But she’s so stubborn,” Sunshine muttered with a hint of a smile. “Th… That’s my Misty. Head in the clouds and hooves always moving.”

From his pocket, Fire Streak pulled out an Equestrian flag, neatly folded into a perfect triangle. “I know that now isn’t the time, but we have to give you this. To commemorate her for everything she’s done.”

“I don’t want it,” Sunshine replied, shoving it away. “I… I don’t want it.”

Fire Streak nodded again and set it on the table. “I understand. I’ll… we’ll come back to it.”

Sunshine didn’t reply, and an eerie silence fell over the house. It didn’t last, as a group of foals passed by, chanting songs and wishing for spring to come.

“I said I’d visit when spring came,” Sunshine said, looking out the window. “I… I should have known. I should have gone sooner, as soon as she said it.”

Fire Streak nodded quietly. “I know you might not want to hear it, but… we are truly sorry.”

“We were going to do so much together,” Sunshine replied. “But after that first fainting episode… She changed. Almost as if she knew.” She turned, locking eyes with Spitfire. “I had a dream last night, Commander. A dream just like this one. And when I woke, I… I tore at my sheets, praying she’d be there. But she wasn’t and…” Her voice wavered, and Fire Streak winced in pity. “And that was when I knew I lost her.”

Spitfire reached out and put a hoof on her shoulder, blinking fast.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” Sunshine whispered. “But… I… Oh, Celestia.” She burst into tears again, a fresh wave of anguish overtaking her.

Spitfire sat down next to her, and the two pegasi draped their wings over Sunshine’s shoulder.

And Sunshine cried as the last of winter died outside of their house, as foals played and couples sang. Fire Streak’s eyes fell upon the folded flag: neat and perfect in every which way.

Misty Fly’s face was burned into his mind. His jacket felt heavy and Sunshine’s body was odd and cold against his side. And though he tried, he couldn’t turn his head to meet Spitfire’s eyes.

“Spits--”

“No.”

The air was cool and crisp as it graced their wings. Fire Streak looked down at the ever-changing landscape beneath them, occasionally passing behind clouds.

“Spitfire.”

“No,” Spitfire repeated.

“You need to fill that spot eventually.”

“I know,” Spitfire answered with venom. “Not now.”

Fire Streak sighed. “Spits… It’s my decision. And you know my letter is still going to be on your desk when we get back.”

“I’m not going to accept it.”

“For how long?” pressed Fire Streak.

“As long as it takes!” Spitfire shouted, her yell startling a flock of geese nearby.

Fire Streak was quiet for a second. “Why?”

“Because… Because I need you, Fire Streak,” Spitfire finally answered, swiping at her eye. “You… you’ll get to retire, okay? You can take a spot in the academy or go to Griffonstone, whatever. But not now. It’s… it’s too soon.”

Fire Streak closed his eyes, feeling the numbness overtaking his body.

“I… Yeah. I get it.”

“I need you, Fire Streak,” Spitfire whispered as the wind blew by them again. Spring was stirring far below them, eager to breathe again and bring life back to the world.

But between Spitfire and Fire Streak, the cold remained.

The rest of their flight was done in silence.