Harmony University: Riding the Storm

The next morning, just as the sun crested the horizon and shone its bright light into the hospital room, Cyclone woke up. In a split second she shot bolt upright in her bed screaming for her life, sat in a puddle of sweat.

A couple of seconds later and the duty nurse came in to check on the screaming teenager, because it sounded like she was being murdered in her bed. After making sure she was properly awake, she changed the soiled bedsheets and left to report the incident to Good Hope.

Left alone in her room, Cyclone hugged her pillow to her like it was a treasured teddy bear for a while and, just because nobody could see her, she cried like a baby. It didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, she saw the nightmare version of herself, a squirming limbless worm chained to a bed.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before she was distracted from her crying by the arrival of breakfast. It wasn’t just food that came through her door, breakfast came with her mother and her girlfriend. Despite the heat outside, Monsoon refused to wear less than her sharp skirt and blouse, while Bluefeather had opted for a loose fitting cream sundress. “Good morning!” she called out cheerfully before setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Good morning, dear!” Monsoon smiled warmly as she smoothed her skirt under herself and sat in her usual seat at the right of her daughter’s bed.

“H-Hey!” Cyclone, who had been caught by surprise by the sudden entrance, quickly wiped her eyes on her already wet pillow. “Hi guys!” she put on a much too wide smile, which she just knew wouldn’t fool anyone.

Naturally, Monsoon saw straight through her daughter’s fakery. “Difficult night?”

“I'm awake now,” Cyclone thought she had rather skilfully dodged that question, though the look that her mother and girlfriend shared said she hadn’t been good enough. Like rolling a one on a deception test. “That's what matters!”

Shaking her head, Monsoon leant over the bed and she wrapped Cyclone up in a hug, leaving space for Bluefeather to do the same on the other side of the bed, which of course she did. “Are the meds not working?” the teenager asked, snaking her arms around her girlfriend and squeezing tight.

Blushing, Cyclone looked away from the two of them. “Good Hope didn't give me any last night.”

Even though her daughter had jet black skin, Monsoon could tell she was blushing just from the look on her face. It was an ashamed look that she didn’t like, and one that as a mother she wanted to see gone. “Do I need to talk to him?” she asked gently.

“Can you, please?” Cyclone asked desperately, not even trying to keep the pleading tone from her voice. “Mom I don't want that dream anymore!”

“Then I will,” Monsoon carefully disentangled herself from her daughter’s arms, a difficult task given how tight Cyclone was hanging onto her, “But I think I know something that will cheer you up right now.”

What on earth could that be? Cyclone didn’t know. Her mother wasn’t one for arranging surprises. Her dad was the spontaneous one. “But I've already got my two best ladies and this month's Power Ponies comic!”

Giggling, Bluefeather blew her girlfriend a kiss and then she stepped out of the hospital room, waving the ‘surprise’ to enter and take her place. That someone was Rainbow Dash. Wearing a broad smirk on her face like she wore her skin-tight leggings and tee shirt, she sauntered into the room like she owned it. “Nice to be in a hospital that I didn't put myself in for a change,” she drawled.

Monsoon wished she could have framed the look of pure delight that came over Cyclone’s face. She settled for burning it into her memory instead. “Blue and I will go get coffee so the two of you can chat.” She left the room followed by Bluefeather.

“Hey Cap,” Cyclone grinned wide as Monsoon and Bluefeather both left the room in a fit of giggles, “I see Twi let you off the leash for once, huh?”

Rainbow Dash’s smirk only widened as she ran a sky blue finger along her purple collar around her neck. “Comments like that will have you running laps,” she shot her track mate a wink, “Interesting to see how far you get with just your hands.”

“I'd give it a damn good go,” Cyclone shot back determinedly, her competitive streak rearing its head, “Have you met my nurse?”

“No,” Rainbow replied with a shake of her head, “But I hope your nurse is tough as nails. Any chocolates left?” she had spied the big heart shaped container of dairy milks that were sitting on the far night stand.

“Yes cap, help yourself to one,” Cyclone gestured to the half full box and giggled at her long-time friend, “And just so you know, my nurse is a griffon. Don't get much tougher than that.”

Now, Rainbow Dash was impressed at that. “Woah, that is tough as nails,” she commented as she helped herself to two chocolates, her mind wandered to Gilda, a particularly tough girl she knew by name and reputation at CHS. “There’s lots left, someone have you on a short leash?”

“My tough as nails nurse,” explained Cyclone, “She says I'm allowed one per visit as long as I impress her on my rehab.” She then rubbed the back of her head, “We should talk about the track team, Cap.”

Her mouth full of chocolate, Rainbow Dash savoured the rare treat before she replied to that. “You'll be the first disabled girl racing for the school. I've checked. We have three wheelchair bound students now, but none were interested in sports. You can change that.”

“Damn right, Cap. And thanks,” Cyclone moved the bed to more of a sitting position, “I mean, I do still wanna race. I was kinda worried I'd be shelved and forgot about, y’know?”

“First,” Rainbow said firmly as she tossed a chocolate to Cyclone, who caught it one handed, “You have spirit, and I'm not going to step on that. Second, the city would come down like a ton of bricks if I, or anyone, thought to exclude you from the team. And last, the team would hand me my ass if I dropped you.”

“Yeah, I am awesome,” Cyclone snickered thickly around the chocolate she was munching on and she fist bumped her friend, “Comes from having to keep up with you. Mom and dad got me a racing chair for when I escape outta here.”

“I know,” Rainbow nodded, “They consulted with me. You need to get your body ready for it.”

“That's what I'm working on with True Heart. See?” Cyclone couldn’t resist flexing her biceps and showing off like she was on the cover of Muscles Monthly, “I got guns!”

Taking a long, very long moment to admire Cyclone’s arms – they were nowhere near as well defined or as large as Applejack’s were, but damn – Rainbow Dash nodded her approval, “Am I going to lose you to the gymnastic team after all this?”

Definitely, Cyclone shook her head. “Nah, Cap, I love to race too much to do gym, besides, I have no idea what gym-ness I'd do anyway.”

“Well, you do have the rings above your bed,” Rainbow’s eyes flicked up to said rings, “Or there is the circus route with that trapeze bar,” she added with a laugh.

Cyclone shared a good natured laugh with her friend, “I can do fifteen chin ups on that now. So uh,” she paused for a moment as something that was bothering her came to her mind, something she could really only talk about with her. “Dash, you were at the mall that day, right?”

Now it was Rainbow Dash’s turn to blush, as she rubbed the back of her head like Cyclone had done moments before. “Um, well, no…” it was hard to explain. Actually it was real simple. She was at the mall, but she was caught inside a magic mirror in some magic dimension. “I mean, I was at the mall, but uh…I was with my friends sort of trapped in a room.” She decided to go with that instead.

“Huh.” Cyclone could tell by the way her friend was blushing and by the way she was avoiding eye contact with her that she wasn’t telling her everything. “I was hoping you'd know what happened. Whenever I ask, all I get is 'Juniper threw a sunglasses stand at me'.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow Dash found the wall of the hospital room incredibly interesting as she spoke, “That was all kinds of messed up. A friend of Sunset's took care of the issue, but it was a bit late. She uh…lives out of the country and had to go home.” Yeah, that sounded better than ‘it was another magic pony girl from magic pony land’, she just hoped Cyclone bought it.

“What I don't get is how Juniper managed to throw a stand!” exclaimed Cyclone, angry that yet again she was being given the run around, “C'mon, Dash, level with me, huh? We’ve been mates a long time.”

‘I am so gonna regret this…’ Rainbow thought to herself as she carefully inspected the two tone paint on the wall again, but she knew that her friend was right. Besides, she knew she’d hate being messed around. “Um, okay, so a while ago there was a lot of strange things that happened round the high school. You've heard about that?”

“Yeah, kinda hard to miss Sunset Shimmer turning into a huge flying demon at that Fall Formal, oh and the Sirens that mind controlled everybody…”

“Right,” Rainbow Dash finally looked Cyclone in the eyes, “That, so Juniper Montage turning into a thirty foot tall raging she demon in the mall shouldn’t be much of a stretch for you.”

“I also remember the magic attack vines at the Friendship Games and the demon fight afterwards,” Cyclone was quick to add that in as well, “So, it’s magic then. The thing everyone knows about but the thing nobody acknowledges at CHS.”

“About that,” Rainbow’s tone took on a warning note. Not threatening, just warning. “You just try going to tell some doctor here that you experienced 'magic' from another dimension and you'll find yourself on the thirteenth floor faster than I can run.”

Cyclone, now sat fully up in her bed, gave her friend the most witheringly deadpan look she could manage. “Dash, do you really think I'm gonna go and run my mouth? I wanna get out of here, not be wearing a straitjacket for the rest of my life. I'm right though, aren't I?”

After a few moment’s consideration, Rainbow nodded her head. “Yeah, Juniper was possessed by Equestrian magic and Sunset's new friend kicked the demon back where it came from. Juniper did a lot of property damage, and there were a few minor casualties, but you were the only one seriously hurt. She had a solid insanity defence at the trail. It really wasn't her,” explained the star athlete as best she understood what had happened, “It was the possession. Her uncle, Canter Zoom, took care of the damages. He also put half a million to your medical expenses. Doesn't help you walk again, but it’s something. Juniper got community service, total of a thousand hours.”

All the while Rainbow Dash spoke, Cyclone listened attentively. “So Blue was right,” she commented when there was silence between them, “Just wrong place at the wrong time?” she let out a deep sigh, “I know future me will be cool with this, but right now I wanna punch her right in the tits.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you do,” Rainbow grinned wide, because that was how she felt about Vignette Valencia, “But shit just happens. If you punch her, you won't be punching the one that did it.”

Rolling her eyes as she let out another deep, deep sigh, Cyclone said, “I know, Cap.” Then, she smiled, “Besides, I couldn't keep up with you anyway. Least now, I can do my own thing and maybe win once in a while.”

“You think that, huh?” Rainbow smirked, “Maybe I'll get one of those racing chairs just to push you.”

“Oh, it's on!” Cyclone laughed and shared a fist bump, “We're so having a race when I get outta here, Dash.”

“I'll give you chance to get some training in first,” promised Rainbow, who fully intended to go through with it, “But come the Fall, you better bring your A game. I don’t care if I’ll have graduated, we’re racing.”

“Like I ever bring anything other than my best, Cap,” Cyclone grinned, picturing the competition in her mind’s eye, “When I get out, you'll see, I'm gonna tear up the track at CHS.”

“I'll hold you to that, Cy.”

The rest of the visit was rather mundane. Rainbow Dash spent twenty minutes talking about what she’d been doing, and how the track team was looking forward to the start of the next school year. Most notable was that Tempest Shadow would be replacing her as team captain once she graduated and left.

With half an hour of visiting time left, Monsoon and Bluefeather returned with a tray of institutional coffee for everyone and they all shared more of Cyclone’s chocolates.

~ ~ ~

After a couple of medicated dreamless sleeps, Tuesday came around and, once Cyclone had polished off her dinner, the evening nurse wheeled her and her bed into the meeting room at seven p.m. sharp.

Unlike her room, which was a two tone blue and white, this was a warm rich burgundy on the walls, though it smelled no less sterile and disinfected. Already there, in addition to Good Hope, were five other patients. There were two men and a woman sat in chairs, one man in a wheelchair and a woman in a bed, like she was.

Since she wasn’t really sure what to expect, having never done anything like this ever before, Cyclone raised a nervous hand in a tentative wave to the group, “Hey…”

“Greetings Cyclone,” Good Hope welcomed her with his easy relaxed smile, “And welcome to the support group this evening.”

“What's up, Doc?” Cyclone had always wanted to say that, and she was pleased to see at least two of the group cracked a smile at her joke.

“Let me do introductions,” Good Hope continued, very much the conductor in charge of the assemblage, “Cyclone is a very recent paraplegic from the waist down.” He then pointed to a maple coloured man in a chair, “Logger will be released in seven days. Car accident, hit by a drunk driver. He lost his wife in the accident.”

Without pausing for breath, Good Hope moved onto the next man, “Loadstone,” he indicated a dark grey skinned individual, “He has stage four leukaemia.” After that, he pointed to the woman in a chair, she was at least twice Cyclone’s age, golden yellow with white hair, “Pyrite, her mother is in the hospital in hospice care for stage four lung cancer.”

After that, he moved onto the man in the wheelchair, “Allegro, he was shot in a convince store robbery and he’s a paraplegic from the waist down. This is his last meeting as he will be released tomorrow.” Finally, the doctor pointed to the pale blue woman in the bed. “This is Sea Breeze; She’s had a stroke. Learning to talk, but she can hear just fine. Cyclone, please start off with why you are in the hospital.”

“Um...” Cyclone didn’t know where to look for the best, so she settled on Good Hope. “Well, mine seems pretty lame compared to all of you,” she awkwardly rubbed the back of her head, feeling like she didn’t belong with these people, “I was at the mall with my girlfriend when I got a sunglasses stand thrown into my back. When I woke up, I was paralysed.”

“Allegro,” Good Hope turned immediately to the cherry red man, “Do you have anything to add?”

“Let go of the hate,” Allegro responded wisely, “You're starting a new life. Live it better than the old one.”

Despondently, Cyclone shrugged her shoulders, again searching for something to look at that wasn’t a person more injured than she was. She was looking for a long time. “I dunno who to even hate, y'know? The one who did it got arrested, got off on insanity, so...I really dunno, here I am, I guess…”

“Then why the nightmares on repeat?” asked Good Hope, getting straight to the core of what was bothering the troubled teenager.

“I know all about nightmares,” Logger spoke up as he brushed his unruly dark brown hair out of his eyes, “The shattering of glass and the bending of metal. Why her and not me. Unlike Allegro, I'm having a hard time letting go of the hate. But like Good Hope says, it’s pointless to hate a dead man.”

Why the nightmares? That was something Cyclone had been asking herself ever since they had started. “I guess,” she led with the best theory she had, “I was a runner at CHS. Not the best, but y'know, I wasn't bad, I got up early, I trained hard, won my share of cups and trophies. I'd just made it to the CHS national team. Then this happened, and like, out of nowhere I woke up and I can't walk. Then a day or two later I woke up after a surgery and I'm incontinent. I got scared and freaked, scared that the next time I'd wake up, I wouldn't be able to move, and so on, and it got worse.”

“Sea Breeze knows that feeling now,” added Good Hope, who received a wink of approval from the woman in the bed, “But she will fully regain the ability to move in time.”

“Where’s the break?”

Cyclone turned to the cherry red Allegro and replied, “I have a spacer for my L3 and rods. I suppose...the nightmares freak me out so much cos I end up totally paralysed, and I can't race at all, or do anything.”

“Mine is my T12,” Allegro commented with a rueful smile, “I have to wear a bag, because I wouldn't know if I’ve crapped myself till it hits my nose.”

“Thank you,” Pyrite balked at the man’s frankness and at the image he had placed in her head, “It's not a pleasant smell.”

“Do you think you'll have any more surgeries, Cyclone?” asked Good Hope, for the moment ignoring the little spat that had developed between Allegro and Pyrite, both of whom were sticking their tongues out at each other.

“I dunno, I mean, I hope not,” Cyclone replied defensively, very much on the back foot, even if she couldn’t stand on her back foot, “They haven't said anything. The other day, I was being a brat to True Heart, I said why bother exercising my legs, she said would you rather they be amputated, I said save that for the next time I wake up.” She paused and shuddered, “Now I'm scared to go sleep…”

“Made my mind up, I'm keeping mine.” Stated Allegro definitely, “I’m gonna put a pully system in and kick some ass from my chair!” when the others laughed at the old jock’s humour, Cyclone found herself laughing along with them before she knew what she was doing.

“I know it sounds lame,” Cyclone said once the laughter had died down, “Some bratty kid running her mouth all over the place.”

“The nightmares are real,” Logger spoke from experience, “It took a long time for me to wake up knowing I wasn't in the car. I still have them, even now.”

“And what are you taking for them?”

“Nothing,” Logger responded quickly to Good Hope’s question, “I took those trancs for a week, but the last thing I wanted was to be taking them for life.”

“Come on!” exclaimed Cyclone, drawing everyone’s attention to her, “I think the drugs are amazing!” she smiled a most contented smile, “I took it and I had the best night's sleep since I've been here. No dreams, no nightmare!”

“Work it out, kid,” Allegro said gruffly, earning a nod of agreement from Logger, “Know where you are, and get off the drug quick sharp.”

Good Hope agreed with Logger and Allegro. “The medication has a use, Cyclone, but it’s not meant to be the solution.”

In her bed, Cyclone couldn’t help but think back to the first day after she had taken the drug, and the recent days when she had been taking it, and to her full wastebasket. “Well...” she conceded, “I'll admit the throwing up wasn't any fun.”

Loadstone spoke up then, for the first time. The dark grey woman’s voice as low and gravelly as her name suggested. “Try chemo, kid.”

Cyclone had never experienced that, nor had she had a relative that had experienced it, but she knew instinctively it was a bad thing to endure. “That must really suck, huh?”

“Yeah, it does,” agreed Lodestone with a reluctant smile to the young girl, “But someone after me might have a chance. All I live for is the now.”

“Is it worth it?”

“Day to day on that, Doc.”

“And?”

“I'm going to beat this.”

Listening to the back and forth between Lodestone and Good Hope, Cyclone found herself genuinely smiling for one of the first times in recent days. It was infectious. “My team captain told me in no uncertain terms that it wasn't going to slow me down.”

“Like I said, the old life is gone,” Allegro repeated, this time not quite as gruffly as before, “Make the most of this new life.”

Pyrite quickly agreed with them. “It's hard though to go on knowing you'll leave someone behind.”

“Someone dying isn’t the worst part of death,” stated Good Hope, “The worst part is after, all the days they stay dead and you don’t. It’s never easy on the living. Even harder for some who are living on borrowed time.”

Logger and Allegro both raised up an imaginary glass of beer in a celebratory toast to the good doctor, “Preach it, brother.”

“Yeah, I guess I'm having trouble seeing it, y'know? Like,” Cyclone paused and she tried to organise her thoughts. She had never been all that eloquent, that was her girlfriend’s forte, using impressive words that teachers liked in her essays, “I'd be out training and running, and everything made sense. I could run for ages and ages and everything was right. Now all I can train is my arms, I miss running...” she awkwardly rubbed the back of her head and blushed, feeling really lame next to these patients. “Sorry…” that made her feel twice as lame.

“I miss a good bowel movement,” Allegro said bluntly, earning him a snigger from Logger and a roll of the eyes from Pyrite.

Logger added, “I miss my wife.”

Loadstone put in, “I miss the energy I used to have.”

“Yeah,” Cyclone decided she needed to pony up if she was ever going to get over this, “I need to stop whining about not running and embrace the wheelchair racing.” She smiled, because she knew there were people who had her back, no matter how much of a brat she was.

“More power to you,” Allegro grinned, “Me, I want to go fishing.”

“Part of moving forward is to let go of what you can no longer have, and taking on what you now have,” stated Good Hope wisely. After that, he produced a large box full of cupcakes, enough for them all to have two each, a tradition, as it was Allegro’s last meeting with the group.

~ ~ ~

Following the rather sobering group therapy session, Good Hope continued to reduce Cyclone’s medication, swapping it out for a placebo three days in the week. When she didn’t notice said change, the doctor reduced it even further, offering the placebo four nights.

After the second week in the hospital, Cyclone was only having the actual drug on every third day, and by the time the fourth week rolled around, she was only having the prescribed medication on the Monday.

It certainly helped that by the start of the third week of her ‘incarceration’, Cyclone was getting about in a wheelchair as thanks to her physical therapy, she was now strong enough to get in and out of bed herself.

Before anyone knew it, the time for Cyclone’s dismissal was at hand. Good Hope gave her a thirty day dose of placebos and told her to take them only as needed. Since this date was known to them all well in advance, Tropical Storm, Monsoon and Bluefeather were there to escort her out. “I suppose they’re going to make you leave in a wheelchair,” Tropical Storm couldn’t resist the cheesy dad joke, and Monsoon couldn’t resist performing an eyeroll at her husband’s cheesy dad joke.

Cyclone looked to Bluefeather, who was trying very hard not to lose it in a fit of giggles, and instead she addressed her nurse, who was also trying not to laugh. “Hey, can I wheel myself out, at least?”

True Heart, who was uncharacteristically giggling at the scene playing out before her, clapped Cyclone on the back and only nearly spilled her patient from the chair. “That you can,” she snickered, “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but do try to be a stranger.”

“And here I was gonna come see you every week too, True!”

At that, True Heart really did laugh out loud and she was still laughing when she waved Cyclone good-bye and went back into the hospital. For everything she had said, she really would miss the young woman. In the two months she had known her, she had grown fond of her.

The rest of the group followed Cyclone out of the elevator and out to the parking lot. “We do get better parking now,” Tropical Storm proudly showed off the bright sky blue minivan that was parked up in the disabled zone. “I have you signed up for Driver's Ed at CHS so you can drive this beauty yourself.”

“Oh cool!” Cyclone clapped her hands in giddy excitement at the prospect of driving the blue beauty. It looked like it could carry the whole track team! “Maybe I can drive this better than a regular car, I mean...yay!”

“That’s all part of being independent,” Tropical Storm grinned at his daughter, “More than enough room for you and your girlfriend in here,” he then added a completely unnecessary, “Nudge nudge wink wink,” along with actually nudging and winking at Cyclone and at Bluefeather, causing the grey skinned teenager to blush hard and Monsoon to use her best eyeroll, the one she saved for occasions like this.

“Sweet!” Cyclone cheered in the middle of the parking lot, her fists punching the air like she had just won a big race at CHS and she had been presented with a massive shiny trophy, “Make Out Mountain here we come!”

Poor Bluefeather was now burning up, doing an excellent imitation of a tomato while Tropical Storm led Cyclone around the van to the passenger side. They had to shield their eyes against the hot summer sun. “Use the side door handle and back up with the door,” he explained, “The button under the handle extends the ramp, but only with the door fully open.”

“I got it, dad,” Cyclone giggled as she operated the gizmo – she called everything she didn’t understand a ‘gizmo’ - and she manoeuvred herself into the vehicle’s seat. “Hey Blue, you know you're cute when you blush, right?”

In the van, Cyclone found the front right seat was missing so that she could move into that spot, wheelchair and all. The driver’s side looked normal, but for some extra levers on the steering wheel that weren’t ‘normal’. “The wheelchair locks there and behind the driver seat,” explained Tropical Storm while Monsoon and the intensely blushing Bluefeather sat in the first row of the back seats. “Once you pass the Driver’s Ed class, you can have the keys.”

“Sweet! Driver’s Ed here I come!” Cyclone had a very happy look on her face, one that rivalled the look she had the first time she had seen the work of art that was Exploding Ninja Pirates from Outer Space, “It’s so good to be free!”

Monsoon openly smirked at her daughter from her place in the back, “Cy did take Driver’s Ed in her junior year, and she only had one minor incident on some ice, and I can attest there was no damage.” She rather enjoyed the pout on Cyclone’s face, “You do have a week before classes start, and you have a membership to a gym now that specializes in paraplegic clients.”

Having finally recovered from her blush, Bluefeather added, “You’ll have that racing chair working in no time, babe.”

Just as Tropical Storm started up the van and pulled out of the lot, Cyclone looked over her shoulder and she saw the blush was missing from her grey cheeks. She determined to put it back. “You just want to ogle the gun show, right babe?” she demonstratively flexed an arm.

And as quick as that, Bluefeather felt that blush return to her cheeks, warming her face, again. It wasn’t her fault, how was she supposed to resist that bulging bicep. “I'm not going to complain,” she retorted, “You’re all sexy and buff!”

Modest as ever, Cyclone flashed her girlfriend a wink, “Damn right I'm sexy, I’m even sexier with my top off…”

“Please save the flirting for when we get home,” interjected Monsoon, despairing that yet again she was the voice of reason. “I'm sure your father has a camera somewhere to record it.”

Quickly, Cyclone shut up. She remembered what her dad had said to her weeks ago, that he didn’t want her in his magazine. Still. “Consider it saved, mom. Oh...” a thought occurred to her then as her dad drove along the street, “I guess my room isn't upstairs anymore, huh?”

“It is, actually,” replied Monsoon, “We redecorated the house to suit you. Of the settlement you received, you have just over two hundred thousand left.”

“While you can't get the money,” Tropical Storm added quickly, because he knew what his daughter was thinking, namely how many comics she could buy with that amount of money. “You can submit expenses for anything related to your injury. This minivan, the house remodelling, your hospital visits and any rehab you might need.”

A short time later, they arrived back at Cyclone’s home, the first time she had seen it in two months. One of the first things she took note of was the ramp at the front entrance. “There’s a ramp at the back too and another to get to the pool,” Tropical Storm explained to her while Monsoon helped her out of the van. “You're on your own if you use the diving board.”

Inside the large house – that was admittedly more of a mansion than a house – Cyclone immediately caught sight of the new chair lift for both the stairs going up to the second floor and stairs going down to the basement. All doors had also been made wide enough for a wheelchair to go through. There had never been much in the way of clutter in the home, thanks to her mother and the cleaning staff being so assiduous, so Cyclone judged that moving around room to room shouldn’t pose her a problem.

“Wow...” Cyclone exclaimed, “Look at this place! All these things were changed in a month? I'm impressed!” she wheeled herself through the house and she looked around eagerly like it was Hearth’s Warming morning, “Not that I wanna ditch you guys, but I want to ditch you and get to my room.”

As it happened, Bluefeather was also keen to get herself and Cyclone into her bedroom. It had been two months, after all. A girl had needs. Needs that hadn’t been attended to in two months. “Come on, check out the lift!”

“I'm right behind you, babes!” and she was, too. She was just as eager as Bluefeather to get upstairs. Thankfully, the lift was simple to operate, simple enough for Cyclone to operate, and it was slow enough that Bluefeather was able to walk up the stairs with her.

Luckily, Cyclone found her bedroom where she had left it, with a few new additions, notably her new bed with bars so she could get in and out with ease. The desk had a chair, but it could also accommodate the wheelchair. The balcony outside had a small ramp to get over the sliding glass door hump.

Bluefeather closed the door behind her, shutting them both inside faced with the sprawling views out of the huge windows. There was a smirk in her voice when she spoke. “Alone with you at last.”

“I've been waiting for this for so long!”

“So have I…”

When Cyclone turned her chair around, she saw Bluefeather was already halfway undressed. She had her top off and she was swiftly removing her bra, “Oh my...” she quickly wheeled herself over to the bed and got on, and she immediately started to take off her tee shirt in order to catch up.

“I'm going to do everything I can to make you feel me,” promised Bluefeather with intent in her eyes and her voice as her skirt quickly joined her top and her bra on the bedroom floor, “Your nurse was a wealth of information.”

“Yeah, that sounds like True,” Cyclone giggled and, inspired by the sexy eyes she was getting, she managed to strip off her denim shorts and her admittedly unflattering panties. Those gone, she looked down at her unshaven crotch and blushed, “You'll have to ignore the forestation…”

“I don't mind at all,” Bluefeather was up on the bed in one motion, secreting herself between her girlfriend’s hairy legs and her even hairier vagina. The hair didn’t bother her. After two months she wouldn’t have cared if it had been certified as a jungle. She was going in.

Giggling away to hide her uncertain nerves, Cyclone said, “There was no way I was letting True shave me.” She trusted her nurse, but there was limits.

“I could give you a trim, but then I could do this…” Bluefeather took hold of a turquoise pubic hair at the top and pulled it hard.

Cyclone did feel the pressure, but not as much pain as she would have expected. “Ah!” the black skinned teenager yelped, “I felt that, like...not as much as before, but I felt it!” Experimentally, Bluefeather moved down to the centre of the labia and she pulled out another hair, “Ah!” Cyclone gasped pre-emptively, because she could see and should feel something, then she frowned a little when she felt nothing.

A frown that matched Cyclone’s crossed Bluefeather’s face at her apparent failure, “I think trimming you one hair at a time is not the best way to go.” So, she decided on another path. She parted the labia with her fingers and she playfully toyed with her girlfriend’s clitoris.

While Cyclone certainly felt the pressure of Bluefeather’s fingers, there was no joy from the love button. After a few seconds, she grunted in frustration, then she immediately felt double guilty because Bluefeather was doing her best. “Babes, don't think I don't appreciate it, I do, but um...could you maybe go inside?”

“This is for me, not you,” Bluefeather looked up from her workstation with a giggle, “I’m just confirming what True Heart told me. Now to get you to really feel me. Ah, wait!” she got off the bed and she moved to the desk and investigated the bottom left drawer. There, she pulled out a tube of lube and she returned to the bed. “I’m glad you parents transferred everything from the old desk to the new one.”

“Sorry babes,” Cyclone completely missed the implication that both her parents had seen the contents of their sexy times drawer, “I'm being a brat again, aren't I?”

Bluefeather saw the guilty blush her girlfriend wore and she had to agree with her. “You're my brat. You are a bit dry down there, but I think I can change that. When I'm done you're going to need to change the sheets.”

It amazed Cyclone how Bluefeather made squeezing out a dollop of lube onto her fingers an intimidating gesture, but she did and it really turned Cyclone on. “Oh yeah?” her familiar cocky smile returned, “And just what are you gonna do, huh?”

A smile crossed Bluefeather’s face, because her girlfriend was as slow on the uptake as ever. Instead of replying, she worked her fingers inside her tunnel far enough that she could reach the G spot. “Time to see if what True told me was true…”

Up at the head of her bed, Cyclone’s eyes went wide as she watched all Bluefeather's fingers fit inside her. That was new. “Y-You got them all in! We...we've never done that before!”

By contrast, Bluefeather was a picture of control. “Relax and let me take you away on a pleasure cruise.”

“Blow me away babes!” Cyclone bit her lip and she watched the grey hand disappear in and out of her like a magic trick, going deeper every time. Bluefeather, smirking, ran her fingers not too delicately around Cyclone’s wet inner walls but mostly she toyed with her G spot.

As the natural vaginal fluids started to flow, Bluefeather knew she was doing it right. She had a plan, and her thrusting fingers were going to achieve that plan. The more she played with her G spot, she got what she wanted. Cyclone shot a little fountain of urine after spluttering out a too late, “I'm gonna p...'.”

Usually one who was fastidiously super clean, Bluefeather couldn’t care less that she was splattered over her arm and face with Cyclone’s pee as the golden liquid dripped down to her modest B cup chest. “Don’t think I'm done with you yet, brat.” Now they were fully lubricated, she pushed her fingers deeper inside her.

“Wh-Wha...MMmmm!” Cyclone gave up questioning what Bluefeather was doing as she felt those fingers going deeper. She had been worried in the hospital that she’d never feel this again, but she could definitely feel it. “O-Oh my, Blue!”

“I have toys,” Bluefeather smirked, feeling like she was on such a power trip with her hand and some of her forearm in her girlfriend’s snatch, “But they're at home. I want you to feel me, and trust me, it is hot to watch this.”

“Oh, it's hot...” Cyclone looked down again and she was greeted to the sight of Bluefeather's hand completely inside her and she felt her fingertips so close to her cervix, “It looks hot and it feels hot!”

Leaning down, Bluefeather kissed just above her arm, “I'm sorry you’re not getting pleasure from this, but I am.” Finally, before Cyclone could say anything, she tapped her cervical wall.

“Oh...oooOOH!” Cyclone was unprepared for the tap; she was even more unprepared for Bluefeather to start pulling her arm out and thrusting it back inside. “I-I wouldn't say Mmmm I'm not getting any!” Each deep thrust she felt a firm tap to her cervix, and soon she was a mewling and moaning mess.

“Be sure to thank the nurse for my education, Cy.”

“I-I'll MMMMmmm I'll send her a Hearths Warming card!” it wasn’t possible for True Heart to be further away from Cyclone’s thoughts as four fingers and a thumb tapped her in rapid succession like a machine gun and she came to an Equestria shattering climax in no time at all.

When Cyclone had ridden out her orgasm, Bluefeather pulled her hand out and while she licked her glistening fingers clean, she admired the gaping pussy before her knowing she had made it happen. “My turn, brat. I could make you crawl your body around to eat me out, or I could just sit on your face.”

There was only one choice. “I was born to be your seat, Blue.” It wasn’t really a choice.

That suited Bluefeather just fine. “A fine seat you are, lover,” she promptly spun around and she swung her left leg over Cyclone’s face. Satisfied, she lowered her clean shaven pussy down on her face. While she was facing her feet, she started playing with her almost non-existent A cup boobs.

“MMmmm!” Cyclone’s pleasured moan was muffled considerably by Bluefeather's toned shapely rear. She quickly got to work, teasing her at first with slow deliberate licks up and down her girlfriend’s slick labia.

While she was being attended to, Bluefeather was discovering she was enjoying being the dominant partner. There was something about having a tongue forced up into her as she ground down on her face that she found really, really arousing.

To encourage her seat to lick her harder and faster, Bluefeather groped Cyclone’s tiny breasts and tweaked her nipples. Hard. After a few moments of teasing, she went to work properly on Bluefeather's dripping wet snatch, alternating between thrusting her tongue in and out and licking at her hard throbbing clitoris. That really hit the spot. Or multiple spots, as it were. Bluefeather expressed her pleasure by pressing down on her seat. in pleasure. “There!” she squealed when that tongue went in her again, “Right there, Cy, it has been too long!”

“MmHHHMMmm!” Cyclone swirled her tongue in deep around Bluefeather's muscular walls a few times and then she returned her attention to sucking on her clit.

“Do me Cyclone! Do me!” screamed Bluefeather, and her girlfriend’s muffled, ‘Yes ma'am!’ only made her hornier and hornier, wetter and wetter. Under her, Cyclone wrapped her lips around Bluefeather's clit, nibbling on it gently and sucking on it as hard as she could. That did it for her. Bluefeather spasmed on top of her. “Cyclone!”

After a full minute, Bluefeather fell forwards panting for breath and supported barely by her arms. After that minute, sixty full seconds of no air, Cyclone desperately tapped at her girlfriend's leg when she showed no sign of letting up or getting up. Heeding the signal, Bluefeather slid forward until her head was between Cyclone’s knees. “Thank you for being there for me…”

“Thank you, babes, for the same thing…” Cyclone breathed, and she groped at Bluefeather's ass, since it was right there on her chest in front of her at arm's reach. On top of her, Bluefeather murred, one hand was tickling under a knee, but Cyclone couldn't see or feel it. Even so, she was still smiling at doing it.

“I always did like a full moon…” Cyclone massaged Bluefeather's ass, her hands dangerously close to her wet moist pussy.

“I still think you owe me another. I'll let you breath this time.”

“I think so too!” in complete and utter agreement, Cyclone slid two of her fingers into Bluefeather's tunnel, her thumb of the other hand playing with her sensitive nub. She wasn’t sure if she could take a hand like she could.

Bluefeather allowed Cyclone to move her forward or back until she was comfortable and, after that, she was content to rock back and forth on her girlfriend’s two fingers. Under her lover, with her grey feet either side of her head, the athlete was struck by an inspiration.

She stopped thrusting her fingers in and out of her for a moment so she could put Bluefeather's feet on her face, where she kissed them like she was making out with her. While she planted wet sloppy kissed on her girlfriend’s toes, she returned to sliding her fingers in and out of her and thumbing her hard clit.

On top, Bluefeather squealed and giggled as she felt her toes get pleasured. It was new but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. To tease her, she wiggled her toes in Cyclone’s mouth. Smirking, Cyclone kissed and sucked on each wiggling toe and then she slipped in a third finger into Bluefeather’s dripping snatch.

When Cyclone paid full attention to rubbing her sensitive clit harder, Bluefeather screamed as she came hard. Not only did she squirt her orgasm all over Cyclone’s face, but she also splayed out her toes, rubbing them over her nose and mouth. Riding out her climax, she slid forward some more until her head was between a pair of black legs. “Cyclone!” she breathed, “I...wow!”

“I know,” Cyclone didn’t bother to keep the smug grin out of her voice, “I blew you away.” She sounded very proud of herself, which she was, “Like...a cyclone!” Then, she hugged the only body part she could reach, Bluefeather's lower legs and more importantly, her feet.

Slowly, Bluefeather rolled over so that her back was laid on Cyclone’s front, “I find comfort in your storm, baby,” she grinned, before smothering her grinning face with the soles of her feet.