"What's the worse that can happen?"
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo, now in their adult years, lie separate from each other staring at a television. Sweetie belle laid sideways as she inclined on her back in a lounge chair, her forelegs draped lazily over her torso. Scootaloo laid on her backside with her wings tucked to the side, limbs dead in weight as they hung off the side of the sofa that was summoned by Sweetie Belle. The Television in question was showcasing some odd and obscure movies that ranged from moderately interesting to downright boring.
It was late at night in Equestria, about a few hours after Luna had raised the moon. Past midnight, if one were to guess. There was something oddly profound about watching some obscure movies with a friend so late at night. The Crusaders had planned to hang out a little more now that they’ve reached adulthood and moved on to their adult lives. They even decided to get together back into the old clubhouse they shared as fillies. The group got together fairly easily after word got out and they had a decent time for the most part. Much to the jubilation of Scootaloo... for a while.
Sweetie Belle and Applebloom took their adult lives fairly well. They seemed to live happy and (relatively) normal lives. But for Scootaloo… While her career was fine, she was still dissatisfied with life. Her years of adulthood mainly consisted of her battling physical and mental disorders with limited success. And whatever fleeting joys she had acquired in her early life simply faded into obscurity as she grew older. The sense of foal-like wonder had come and gone, leaving only a bitter fondue of emotions bubbling beneath a facade of indifference. For Scootaloo, nobody told her that getting to adulthood would be short and bittersweet. She wasn’t ready for it when it had arrived under her nose, and she still isn't ready to face it now.
Nobody told her adulthood would suck.
It wasn't that life itself sucked. Life in Equestria was a happy one. But she never felt she could be who she really wanted to be. She never knew how to fly with the same level of grace and talent as she fondly fantasized of having, like Rainbow Dash. Oh, she tried. But the wings themselves were refusing to do anything right. They grew at a much smaller rate compared to most Pegasi. She remembered from years prior that doctors would constantly say the 'Ulna' bones were not growing with the normal level of metabolism, thus her inhibiting wingspan and flight. Combine that with the dread that you will never be as good as your Idol because of something that is beyond your control, and the result is an ugly concoction of dreadful debilitating depression.
The early day of the get-together for the retired Crusaders was going fine for the most part. Applebloom had brought a card deck of a popular game from down in Appleoosa called "One." It was confusing at first for Scootaloo, but it was actually quite fun. The goal was to place cards on the discard pile from your hooves if both cards either share the same color or number while trying to lose all the cards in your hooves. There were also other cards that influence the game in mischievous ways to mess with your friends, such as "reverses", "skips", or "draw" cards. That was fun for a while. Then they got to drinking and talking about life in general, and that's when things took a sour turn for Scootaloo.
See, Sweetie Belle and Applebloom had their lives set up and all fine. But hers was a downward spiral of ailments. They would talk and talk and talk about them a lot, but when it came to her, she would bat the subject away with an expert social parry by discussing her past life, not her current life. The other two didn't seem to notice her lack of current-time stories or experiences and simply went along with it, much to the relief of Scootaloo's anxiety. She didn't want to have to explain to her friends that her life sucked.
At least it was good back then, before adulthood. that she could say for certain.
As the day soon turned to evening and then night, the party (if you could call it that) was starting to fade into a lull. Applebloom hung out with the group for a little while before reluctantly heading off to bed. Still living with the Apple Family on their farmstead, this consequentially meant that she was still stuck on a curfew -- of which she was not happy about. That left Sweetie and Scootaloo alone with the TV and their thoughts. Something Scootaloo dreaded.
Scootaloo hated thinking. It made her mind wander down memory lane. And so she distracts herself.
“I wonder why they always show Cowponies vs Aliens this late at night?” Scootaloo asked nonchalantly.
“I dunno,” Sweetie answered with just about the same level of interest. "I guess the niche is popular these days."
“... I wonder if it's offensive to say cowpony to an apploosian now?”
“Snkrt - yeah you better be careful.” Sweetie Belle snickers. “You wouldn’t want to offend Applejack or Applebloom.”
“Do you think if the Aliens actually came to Equestria, they would actually want to go after the Cowponies first? Wouldn’t they, like, go after Canterlot, the seat of the government first? Or Manehattan? Any big city, really? It doesn’t make sense. And why would the Cowponies have any chance of winning?”
Scootaloo’s question eventually turned into a rant, and Sweetie could only groan as her movie and her frustration was drowned out by the sound of Scootaloo griping.
“I don't know and I don't really care much for it. If you don’t like the concept, why don't you change the channel?” Sweetie interjected.
“Because nothing else is good! All of them are boring shows about old ponies buying pawn items or some crappy reality TV shows. Boooooring!”
“sigh -- Well, then I don’t know what to tell you. Just enjoy whatever there is to enjoy.” Sweetie deflected.
The innocuous repartee had ended as quickly as it began. Scoots opened her mouth to speak, and nothing emerged. Deflated, she sunk back to her couch in defeat. Staring at the screen, she continued to reminisce about how stupid this all seemed in hindsight. How her boring adulthood led to her wanting to make this get-together happen. How being reunited with her old friends would hopefully put some spark back into her boring, monotone life.
She had hoped that this get-together would do…
Well, something.
But she got nothing. Just a quiet evening, with one of their friends opting to go to bed early.
Scootaloo couldn’t win, it seems. And she finally admits defeat with a guttural groan.
“Lemme tell ya, Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo mumbled atonally with a hint of self-deprecating mirth. “This is not how I imagined life would be.”
That got Sweetie’s attention. Her vision yanked from the movie, Sweetie turned her head to Scootaloo. The statement, in particular, wasn’t thought-provoking, but coming from the mare whom Sweetie expected to be full of life and energy, now seemingly despondent; it definitely hooked her.
“... Well, What do you mean? 'Not how you imagined it' -- W-What does that mean?” Sweetie asked, genuine curiosity in her tone.
Scootaloo traded a glance with her. For a moment, she contemplated. Contemplated whether or not this conversation was worth pursuing in the first place. Whether or not this get-together was worth it in the first place. Whether or not this stunt on finding the ignorant bliss of youth was worth it in the first place. She had already been willing to accept defeat. She felt that her attempts of seeking this fleeting moment were all for naught. Her anxious mood nowadays crippled her ability to believe that she could find joy now. A seemingly innocent question that sparked a tsunami of jumbled half-thoughts in her mind.
One of them shouted louder than all the others.
'Is it worth it now?'
Scootaloo noticed that Sweetie was still staring at her, somewhat incredulously, but otherwise waiting patiently for an answer.
And with such little Agency, she seemed to be stuck in the least desirable position she could imagine. She glanced down at the wall behind Sweetie Belle, seemingly trying to find a way out. She didn't want her friend to worry, yet she now had her undivided attention on her problems in life. She wanted nothing more in the world than to just say 'nothing' and just pretend it was something the alcohol forced her to say. Or come up with some shallow backstory about how she had a bad day at work or... something.
She looked back into her eyes again, and saw them still waiting patiently.
Crap. She couldn't just say nothing.
She felt forced to answer, and she struggled to find the right words. If she was gonna answer though, she might as well say it right. She deserves that much.
“... Well, apart from the crippling anxiety, the debilitating loneliness, the soul-crushing and inhibiting physical disorder I got preventing me to fly... It’s… also incredibly boring.” She finished lamely. “I mean, here we are, a couple of young ponies; it’s Saturday night, and… we’re just sitting here. Watching TV as we waste time in the dark.”
Sweetie felt her brows raise a little at such an unexpectedly remorseful answer. Sensing Scootaloo's frustration and another incoming rant, she attempted to lighten the mood, “We’re young ponies?” the unicorn lightheartedly jaunted.
“Well… we’re kind of young… and... I guess kind of old too.” Scootaloo responded with deadpan humor.
“Okay, but I don’t get it though,” Sweetie rolled her body to a more comfortable position, sitting on her haunches to face Scootaloo, “You wanted us to get together, and we did; we had some party games, and we drank a little; Then Applebloom left, you turned on the TV and tuned it to this channel to sit down on the couch to watch; and now you’re complaining about it?”
“Because I would very much rather we do something else.” Scootaloo griped with a huff.
“Well, like what?” Sweetie Belle Suggests, which only annoyed Scootaloo.
“I- agh, I don’t know Sweetie Belle! Whatever it is that young ponies do!” she flared her wings in tandem to her outburst.
“Like what?” Sweetie presses forcefully, knitting her brow.
“Oh for- You know the things that they do Sweetie Belle, they- they go to concerts, or they- they go on road trips, or to music festivals, to the carnivals, or on hikin' trips!"
Scootaloo’s voice grew more and more wistful as she continued down the list, "Going to the beach with your friends, sittin' by the bonfire, telling stories, making memories, falling in love…”
She stops with a painful tug at her heart. As she blinked hard, her tiny smile falters as her wings folded neatly to her sides.
“... And I never got to do any of that stuff," she continued with a small whimper, "I was so busy getting my Cutie Mark for half of my foal hood that I never stopped to ask myself what would happen after I got it.”
Sweetie Belle raised a brow, “We… kind of already answered that.”
“I mean besides helping other ponies get their Cutie Marks. I mean about adulthood in general, young adulthood specifically.” Scootaloo seemed to have sunk deeper into the couch. “You only get to be young once, and... and I blew it.” She finishes with a hint of melancholy.
Sweetie could see Scootaloo's ears droop to the sides of her face, her eyes longingly staring at the TV. She wasn't expecting such a sour turn from an otherwise normal night. She attempts to salvage the situation once more with her presence.
“You know,” Sweetie Belle interjects, “I’ve been to music festivals before, and let me tell you: Hoofchella is not great. 15,000 ponies all using the same ten port-a-potties at once; the music sucked; the food sucked; the smell sucked.”
She took a pause.
“Although, I did hear the mud orgies are pretty fun.”
“You’re missing the point, Sweetie Belle," Scootaloo angrily interjects, "It doesn’t have to be music festivals specifically; it doesn’t have to be any of those things.”
The unicorn knitted her brow in confusion at the pegasus' words, “Well, then what are you talking about?” Sweetie asked, fed up at how his conversation was going nowhere.
“I’m talking about fun!” Scootaloo exasperates, spreading her hooves out in an expanding motion. “Surely, you’ve heard of fun, right? Well, I never get to have fun! You can't tell me ponies out there aren't having fun! I know young ponies do it, I’ve seen it on TV and in the Movies and everywhere I go! I-I-I want to be one of those ponies, I want to be one of the funhavers!”
Sweetie was taken aback by the sudden outburst but shook it off quickly, her mind working miles a minute trying to calm her friend, “Well… what is fun to you then?”
Scootaloo opened her mouth to answer but the words found no voice.
Her mind trekked back to all of the things that used to bring her joy; the red scooter, now gone and too small for her size--and even if she got another one, it never felt the same as it did in her youth; Flying was still taking practice, and she grew to dread it as days pass by due to her inadequacy; Hanging out with Rainbow Dash was more difficult as the element bearers move on with their lives.
And that left with only this: The memory of Scootaloo trying to get the Crusaders to hang out in the old clubhouse, only for it to end in mediocrity.
After Scootaloo pondered this question for seemingly forever, a raucous sigh escaped her lips.
“Ugh, basically nothing at this point.” She finished lamely.
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you then," Sweetie shrugged, "I have no idea what you want, and it sounds like you don’t either.”
Scootaloo sighs, limbs flailing with exuberance. She struggled to voice her wanton desires.
“Agh, I-I want… I want to have… new adventures, new things to try, new experiences to explore… I-I mean, at this point, it could be anything. Frankly, I want it to be anything.”
Sweetie Belle’s ears perked and stood at attention upon hearing the words “new experiences”, her eyes glued to Scootaloo. When she finished her request, Sweetie guffawed aloud with a belly laugh.
“Really? is that all?" She guffawed again. "If you wanted new experiences, I can get you new experiences,” Sweetie emphasized her words, finishing with a sly expression on her face, "All you had to do was ask."
Scootaloo had seen this face before.
She had seen it far too many times on her friends who thought they had a good idea only for it to end horribly, horribly wrong. And this particular expression spoke to her profoundly; Sweetie Belle’s capricious attitude, and how her facial movement accentuated that suspicion immensely. It was the expression on her features that spelled out: ‘I’m going to do something to help you, and you are not going to like it.’
And it gave off several red flags for Scootaloo.
“I… I’m not gonna be dragged into a herd of yours or something, aren’t I?” Scootaloo spoke slowly.
“Wh- I- No!” Sweetie shouted, apparently appalled at the request… or at least, that’s what Scootaloo interpreted. Sweetie Belle planted a hoof to her face, “Oh for - sigh - Just wait here for a minute.”
She quickly got up, her horn glowing until a sudden and bright pop of light temporarily flashed in front of her eyes, leaving the stench of ozone in the air. Where there had once been Sweetie Belle, now laid an empty dormant chair as she teleported away.
“Ugh.” Scootaloo groaned, sinking back into the sofa with that familiar sense of boredom drilled into her psyche. One she desperately needed to get away from. Her mind constantly ruminated on Sweetie’s answer on giving Scootaloo new experiences and wondered just what exactly she meant by that.
Dozens of scenarios ran through her head.
Going skinny dipping, taking a ride as stowaways on a train, or whatever extremities she could think of. And none of it did wonders to her anxiety, causing her heart to beat a little quicker than she would like. Taking a few moments conducting a breathing exercise, she felt herself physically calm down. Mentally, she tried to stop thinking about it too much. It proved to be difficult.
Her mind attempted to drift on to more positive thoughts. She thought of the briskness of the air rushing against her skin in her youth, riding around the red rocket scooter around ponyville to pass the time. The fond memory of the sweet, citrus-scented summer air pervading her nostrils calmed her down significantly.
Sweet Celestia, what Scootaloo wouldn’t give to be able to fly at her full potential.
Another sudden flash materialized in the air, startling scootaloo enough for her to fall off the Sofa.
Sweetie Belle teleported back into existence moments later and was greeted with the sight of her Pegasus friend sprawled out on the floor face first.
“Um… when you’re done kissing the floor, I have some good news to share with you.”
Scootaloo’s response was a muffled groan as she got on her hooves, groggily standing on all fours. “What is it, and why is my gut telling me that I won’t like it?”
“You will like it, but I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?”
Red flag, Scoots thought to herself.
“No. Not even a little bit.” Scootaloo answered quickly. “I have no idea what your intentions are, and you haven’t told me what you’re trying to do. And do you know just how many times scenarios end badly with the phrase 'do you trust me?' A lot. Like a lot, lot!"
“I’m trying to help you,” Sweetie Belle innocuously assuaged with a dismissing hoof wave. She then prods a hoof at Scoot's chest. “You said you wanted to have fun, and here I am trying to help you with that, yet you’re still hesitant.”
“Because I am terrified that you’re going to give me Poison Joke or something!”
“Oh come on, I’m not Discord; I wouldn’t do that to you! And this is not going to change you in any way, shape, or form; physically, at least.”
Yet another red flag.
“You say that like I’m prone to not enjoy this.”
“Ok then, do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this?” Sweetie extended her arms out towards Scootaloo, emphatic of the latter’s insecurities and crippling disorders. “You wanted to do something worthwhile, something to make memories from, and this is what I am trying to do; I know you will enjoy it, and I know you will get something profoundly valuable out of this. You’ve been really down in the ditch when it comes to actually having fun, but this I know you will like. So I’m going to ask you one more time: Do you trust me?”
Scootaloo was about voice what would have been her obvious answer, but once more found the words dying on her tongue. She found herself idly staring at Sweetie Belle’s features; the Jade irises pierced through her psyche, tempting her to follow into whatever it is she beckoned Scootaloo to come. Like a Siren's call.
She was a little lost in those eyes for a while, as her brain wrapped all the different outcomes and possibilities of her request in a stuffed package and taped it shut in her mind. Said brain was also screaming in tandem with a sort of gut feeling, deep in what felt like her heart but she wasn’t quite sure. It made her queasy, and a little weak in the legs.
But the smile on Sweetie's face spoke otherwise. It was an immensely warm and comforting smile; one that would make Celestia herself blush at the cheeks, feeling a flush of heat on her own as well. It spoke volumes to the hyperactive mind that was Scootaloo’s. It told her, despite her gross indifference to the evening thus far, she really did care for Scootaloo’s well-being. And she wanted to help her.
It was that last iota of reassurance that pushed Scootaloo over the edge. To dare to try for once, In what felt like a very long time.
“Please don't make me regret this,” Scootaloo asked for nopony in particular with closed eyes, shaking her head.
“You will regret it even more for the rest of your life if you don’t take a chance here. Don't you want to be happy?”
That question stuck to Scootaloo. It's not like the question was convoluted enough to have the answer hidden from her; in fact, the answer was very obvious.
Of course, she wanted to be happy, who wouldn’t?
And yet, as paradoxical as it sounds, her brain refused to see the logic behind that request. The ambivalence of her expression was tempered by frustration and anxiety, cementing her brain to the idea that there was a catch behind her request, a cost to that happiness -- there can be no doubt about that. But what would it cost? At the present moment, she couldn’t answer that. It seemed out of her mental reach. Yet so prominently close at the same time, staring into her face in the form of one of her best friends. It was right there, just waiting to be taken.
All she had to do was say 'yes.'
In a rare, fleeting moment, Scootaloo had found her long-lost confidence.
“Sigh -- Sure, hit me, what is it?”
Whampf!
“OW! Wh- What was that for?!” Scootaloo yelped, clutching her pained whither with a wince.
“What? You said ‘hit me’ and I did.” Sweetie snorts.
Whampf!
"Ow. Okay, sorry." Sweetie apologized with a wince of her own, rubbing her foreleg.
“You’re a jackass. You know that?” Scootaloo snarled.
“Hey now, I think Cranky Doodle would take offense if he heard you call me that.”
"Whatever! Just shut up and tell me what it is that I'm going to do before I change my mind!“
Sweetie Belle stared at her with a faux-serious face, as she struggles not to smirk.
"Well, see, now that is a contradicting order. You say 'shut up,' then you say 'Tell me-'"
"Sweetie Belle, I swear to Luna-"
"Okay, okay; Sorry. Just trying to get you psyched up. Get you in the mood, you know? I want this night to go well for you."
"... Maybe don't hit me then." She bitterly spoke, still rubbing her lightly bruised whither with a hoof
"Are you ready for the best night you'll remember for a long time?” Sweetie declares with a dramatic grandeur that her sister would be proud of.
“No, not really,” Scootaloo answered with atonal honesty, "I feel I like I'm in for a long night."
“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for you every step of the way. But I feel like we're going to have fun!"
Scootaloo didn't feel so sure about that.
"Besides! What's the worse that can happen?"
Oh, great! Another red flag! How many is that now?!
"Why would you think I'm happy if you're sad?"
The two mares found themselves out in the quiet streets of ponyville, with sparse streetlights dotting them far apart from one another for a small amount of illumination. Not that trotting around in the streets would've been difficult anyway, given that the stars and the moon permeate their light all across Equestria to help those see.
Scootaloo broke the quiet first. “Why are we going to Sugarcube Corner? Isn’t it closed?”
“Yeah, but Pinkie Pie is always up at night on Saturdays. It’s... a sort of habit of hers. She gets the work done for the week with the Cakes and on Saturday night she… ‘unwinds’ a little bit, with their permission. Gets some of that nervous energy vented out of her system. It’s like Clockwork.”
They had made it to the town square, where they saw several streetlights illuminating the path for them more clustered together. They were surrounding a roundabout that boasted a marble fountain in its center. The fountain had a statue of an earth pony sitting on his haunches, a blank crimson flag clutched in one hoof.
“What do you mean by ‘unwind?’” Scootaloo presses.
“She just… indulges herself on some pleasantries--helps her senses and keeps her as her regular self, that's all I know... at least from what she told me.” She paused in thought, halting the trot temporarily. “Hm. Come to think of it, I don’t know what it is exactly she’s indulging in. I just know that it helps her.”
“And you think this will help me?” Scoot asked incredulously.
“I don’t think so; I know so. Because if someone as eccentric and wild as Pinkie Pie needs something to keep her in the groove, who’s to say you don’t need something similar?”
Scootaloo pondered on this as they both resumed their walk, comparing her fallible faculties to her soon-to-be pink counterpart. She wondered just how similar her problems were compared to hers, and how much they would help. Scootaloo had a good number of memories of Pinkie Pie she could choose to reminisce about.
None of them were bad necessarily (as far as she knew), that was obvious enough.
But Pinkie Pie can come across as… “overly-eccentric” seemed the nicest way to phrase it for Scootaloo.
"And in any case, hanging out with the party pony of town is certainly a lot more interesting of an experience than sitting in an old clubhouse, watching boring flicks."
... Fair enough, Scoot thought to herself.
She saw no point in arguing, and opted instead to follow Sweetie Belle. They eventually made their way past Carousel Boutique, which Sweetie was particularly cautious about during their trot. She took great care to avoid any sightlines that could be peered from the windows inside and opted to avoid the roundabout altogether.
But finally, they had made it to Sugarcube Corner and it was just as Scootaloo remembered it as a filly; The exterior walls were the same as every other building in town, but what set it apart was the roof; A thick layer of some kind of hardened pastry that enveloped the sloped field. White Glaze stuck onto every edge and vertices that could be seen, hanging like icicles.
Overall, it looked the same as she remembered it. And the lights inside the second floor were still on, a few of them downstairs lit as well.
"By the way," Scootaloo remembered something, "Where did you go when you flashed out of the Clubhouse earlier?"
"Oh, I was checking to see if Rarity was still awake... Turns out she is, so we opt to avoid her at all costs."
"... Still trapped under her hoof then?"
Sweetie groaned hoarsely, "She is even worse than she was when I was a filly. She thinks I can't handle myself with adult life and such, and constantly talks about 'moderation is good for the lady"' Sweetie finishes with a mocking impression of her sister, "Sweetie Belle, you cannot possibly consider ingesting hard drinks. Such behavior is uncouth and inappropriate!"
This earned a chuckle from the pegasus, thankful for the reprieve from her thoughts. If only it lasted a little longer.
"Are the Cakes still up at this time of night?" Scootaloo inquires, trying to distract herself. The two were trotting closer to the bakery in question.
"Well, it's easier now that Pumpkin and Pound are older. They're a bit more lenient with them when they go to bed on weekends. Lucky us."
"So, Sugarcube Corner is not open... but they stay up on Saturdays?"
"Like clockwork."
The two mares found themselves staring at an obnoxiously pink door, waiting for nothing. Both traded a tentative glance until Sweetie finally raised a hoof on the door.
… Tap. Tap. Tap.
Scootaloo side-eyed Sweetie Belle. She seemed calm and loose. It hadn’t missed Scootaloo’s notice that Sweetie had the most neutral expression being held on her features. She remained stoic.
Glancing back at the door both mares were given no reply, but not without silence. There was a sort of commotion going on indoors, sounds of hooves moving in rapid succession and frantically. Also some faint cheerful and upbeat music. Jovial conversation, and mirthful laughter.
Scootaloo glanced around the building. She saw the windows to her right were lit up and could be easily peeked through. She felt the need to pique her curiosity and spy through the windows, yet a lesser but vocal voice of reason in her consciousness forbade it as intruding.
Tap Tap Tap!
Without a word, Sweetie knocked once again. There, both mares could hear shushing and… giggling?
“Huh… They don’t usually take this long.”
Sweetie was just about to knock once more when both mares suddenly heard the familiar and giddy voice of Mrs. Cake.
“Be right there in a moment!”
Scootaloo suddenly sensed something. Something she knew was different from the norm, her gut instinct told her so. She took a glance back to the window. There, she saw something… different.
The Windows were foggy.
Scootaloo also instinctively sniffed something that pervaded her nostrils. A scent that grew stronger and stronger with each passing second.
“Do…” Scootaloo leans closer to Sweetie Belle. “Do you smell that?”
Before Sweetie could answer, the door spontaneously opens outward, jolting both mares to look forward.
What used to be a Pink Door was now replaced by a literal wall of smoke that billowed relentlessly outside to the front porch.
It invaded both of the mares’ nostrils, sending them both into raucous coughing fits. Scootaloo in particular was worse off, having collapsed onto the floor on her haunches still trying to get precious, untainted oxygen in her system.
When almost all of the smoke dissipated, there stood the sky blue earth pony. A lone white streak of color was visible in her otherwise pink mane, indicating her age. Her physique still looked healthy and fit, despite the time that’s passed.
But Scootaloo noticed another striking detail; Her face.
It was usually tight, and always smiling wider than necessary. The stresses of her parenting life and her running a shop would usually take their toll in the form of eye bags and face wrinkles. Here, Scootaloo found no such details among her features.
Her face was loose and relaxed, much like the rest of her body. Her eyes were almost completely shut, save for a small slit of the iris that was far glassier than normal.
Oh, and they were also red... can't forget that feature.
“Oh my goodness, I am so, so, so sorry girls.” She apologizes in a lower tone of voice, her lips curled in a goofy smile. She didn’t sound like she was apologizing at all, merely jesting them.
Scootaloo finally caught her breath and felt her lungs calm down after her coughing fit. “Mrs. Cake, wh—hack!—what was that?”
There was no reply, and the sound of giggling coming from behind Mrs. Cake made her give a stink-eye to whoever was behind her.
“Would you excuse me for a second?” She kindly asked. Before she got a reply, her head disappeared behind the door. “Carrot! Shut it!”
Scootaloo was left flabbergasted by the situation. She couldn’t process what was happening on her own and thus turned to Sweetie Belle for answers.
She saw Sweetie's equally dumbfounded gaze at the door. Upon noticing Scootaloo’s pleading stare, she responded with an unknowing shrug.
And that did not bode well with her, at all!
Mrs. Cake’s head eventually returned, her expression more or less unchanged from that loose smile she boasted.
“I don’t know if you girls know this, but the bakery is closed for the night. We close down early every Saturday.”
“Yeaaaah,” Sweetie Belle whimsically nodded. “I can see that.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Cup Cake spontaneously quipped, suddenly going frigid.
Scootaloo and Sweetie traded more bewildered glances at one another.
“Um... okay? Well, we’re not here for you, we’re wondering if Pinkie Pie is home?” Sweetie asked.
“Did somepony call for me?” an even more familiar voice called out from within.
“It’s Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle! They want to talk to you!”
“Ohhh, Okie Dokie!”
Cup Cake swiveled her head around and locked eyes with Sweetie Belle, staring incredulously.
“Uh…” Sweetie Belle nervously chimed. “Are you okay, Mrs. Cake?”
Scootaloo didn’t say anything. She instead squinted her eyes tight and scanned the way too relaxed mare in front of her with intensity.
Her eyes demeanor, her face, her eyes;
She is absolutely baked.
“Whoa… Oh my gosh.” Cup Cake hoarsely whispered, with a half-tired and half-inebriated voice that resembled a frog croak. “You look so good in this light, Sweetie Belle! I mean, has your sister ever told you that!” she took a ginger step forward, her hoof softly caressing the unicorn's cheek. "And you feel so soft too!"
“Uh… thanks? I think?” Sweetie replied, feeling very uncomfortable about the situation.
“Here I am!” Pinkie’s voice called out, sounding much closer as hoofsteps hurried their way to the door. “Uh, Mrs. Cake? Why don’t you go eat another Ice Cream Sandwich from the freezer and just relax for a second, okay?” She asked from out of sight.
“Ohhhh… Yeah… Yeah, that sounds good… alright.” She spoke slowly. “Alright then. Girls… have fuuuuuun~” She spoke with a sing-song voice like she was restraining a giggle as she turned her back from the duo.
Then she closed the door.
Leaving both mares standing outside, still alone, and still very much confused.
Scootaloo blinked rapidly, struggling to process what just happened. “Uh… what was that about?”
“I... honestly... don't know.” Sweetie ascertained slowly. “But I guess whatever Pinkie Pie has, she's finally laid it onto the Cakes then.”
“No, I mean the door! They-” Scootaloo blinked. “Wait, what? What do you mean by that?”
“She means ‘I got them high!’”
Both mares nearly jumped out of their skin at the sudden outburst of Pinkie’s voice. Turning around quickly, Sweetie Belle saw seemingly sober Pinkie Pie standing behind her, gazing at them with a toothy grin.
Her physique had not changed much despite how much time had passed, and the only thing to signify her age was a slight washing out of the color in her mane; a rosy tinted coat that was no longer as vibrant as it was before. Just like Mrs. Cake, her mane was slightly grey as it lost its vibrancy to age, but she still was very much as active and energetic as ever.
Not to mention still very much Pinkie Pie, for popping up behind the two like so.
“... Right," Sweetie sighed with a hoof to the face. "Of course you're there.”
“Is she okay?” Pinkie casually asked while pointing an idle hoof to the ground.
Scootaloo was laying on her back and on the verge of hyperventilation.
“H-how a-are you so quiet d-doing that?!” Scoots wheezed in between breaths.
“Trade secret,” she replied with a wry wink. "Can't tell you!"
“She’ll be fine.” Sweetie waved with a hoof, dismissing Scootaloo. “So… what’s going on in there?” Sweetie asked with a hoof toward the door.
"Oh, yeah, that." She chuckles with mirth, if only barely. A halfhearted chuckle. "I finally got them introduced to Everfree Lettuce. They've been like that ever since."
Pinkie responded in a casual demeanor, coming from a casual standpoint, expecting a casual response.
Instead, she was met with blank, wide-eyed stares from both of the mares; most prominently from Scootaloo, who had her jaw slightly agape.
Sweetie spoke first. "I'm sorry, did... did you say—"
"Everfree Lettuce? Yes. Well, it's not actually lettuce, just a plant. But it's on the inside that counts." Pinkie finished Sweetie's response, before proceeding on to one of her energetic tangents.
"See, they'd been very stressed out lately due to Pumpkin and Pound being a little rowdier than usual—at least that's what they told me—so I said to them that I had a little something for their troubles if they promised to take it in a controlled dose, because my supplier can't keep feeding them this kind of stuff as it is not only addictive but also really hard to get because... well because it's in the Everfree Forest."
"Uh," Sweetie and Scoots sang in atonal harmony.
"So I told them that they should only take it on the weekends, and they were like 'But Is it safe?' and I was like, 'Oh yeah, totally, but also make sure you don't do it in front of Pumpkin and Pound', and they were like, 'Oh yeah, totally!' So now they only do it on weekend nights where the twins don't get involved or witness their shenanigans and have been doing it for a few weeks now, and so far?"
She stops, allowing herself to suck in a gargantuan amount of air in her lungs after rambling for so long until her chest was inflated by several inches. A quick and decisive exhale later relaxes her body to her normal shape once more.
"It's been pretty good." She finishes with a low drawl.
Sweetie and Scoots were left collecting their jaws that had fallen onto the ground.
"Everfree Lettuce," Scootaloo repeated, shaking her head clear of conflicting thoughts.
"Yep!" Pinkie answered.
"You have... Everfree Lettuce... and you just gave it to them?"
"Yep!" She begins to bounce incessantly, "And, you know, being bakers and all, they kind of went a little crazy with it. When I told them they could be turned into edibles if done right, they didn't believe me so they started experimenting. Now we have edibles for just about everything! They started making Ice Cream, then turned those into Ice Cream Sandwiches, and then we moved on to all the pastries; we have a ton of brownies that we baked now just sitting there, and there are also Cookies, Cakes, Muffins, Apple Fritters, Danishes; just about everything was baked from them! And now they are having an awesome night! Isn't that exciting? 'Cause I am super excited right now, and I don't know why. Usually, I would have a reason to be excited, like when I am planning a Birthday Party or a Surprise Birthday Party; or a Surprise After-Birthday Party! GASP—I know! We can throw a Baking Party!"
Pinkie's rant left Scootaloo's head spinning, leaving Sweetie Belle to be an awkward third wheel in this conversation. She exchanges tentative glances with Pinkie and Scootaloo. The latter looked like she was barely holding in her bubbling emotions that threatened to explode, while the former had a very wide and goofy smile plastered on her face. Upon seeing Scootaloo sitting on her haunches, her bouncing stopped.
With a sudden twist of her body, Scootaloo begins to trot away.
"Yeah, no. I'm done. Nope. Nuh-uh. Goodbye. Sayonara. See you later. I. Am. Done!"
Sweetie willed her body to move faster than her mind could, "Scoots, wait!"
Scootaloo turned around to see Sweetie attempting to reconcile. This only fueled her ire further.
"Why?! So you can get me drugged out of my mind? Was that your plan all along? To get me stoned with herbs from the EVERFREE FOREST!? SERIOUSLY?!"
"Shh, calm down! You're gonna wake everypony!" Sweetie motioned with her hooves fanning down, her eyes darting around the comatose town. No lights from the windows, no soul wandering the streets.
"Um, I don't know what is going on here, so can somepony fill me in?" Pinkie piped up from the porch.
Sweetie looked back to see a slightly bewildered Pinkie Pie glued to the ground on her haunches, but otherwise still wearing a patient smile. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, Scootaloo shoves a hoof to her lips to silence her.
"Oh, I'll tell you what's happening," Scootaloo gripes, "I am having the worst night that I can remember in a long time and I feel like it couldn't get any worse so I thought I would go out and do something about it! But ohhhh no, Sweetie Belle just wants to use my ailments as an excuse to get stoned! And here I thought she actually cared about me, caring about what was best for my well-being, but NOPE! I guess that's not happening!"
Scootaloo closed the distance between her and Pinkie rapidly, the latter slowly backing up with her legs as the small pegasus in front of her bore her head down in a challenge.
"And here I am now, hoping that you would do something to help me out! Hoping that you will do SOMETHING to help put some spark back in my life! I—" She felt her teeth grinding against her jaw, "I just—" her head drooped toward the ground, "I just don't care about anything anymore! I just want to be happy and still, I am not!"
Scootaloo looked up. Pinkie's smile had already vanished, replacing her usual jubilance with profound confusion and worry.
"I don't want to be sad about my life anymore! Is that so bad!?"
Scootaloo's hooves inadvertently silenced her snout, pressing forcefully into her muzzle. She felt a squeak escape her lips as she realized what she had said aloud.
Silence. The horrible, palpable, awkward silence seemed to stretch into the aethers, thick enough to slice a piece off with a knife if one desired.
A mental sigh reverberated in her mind. She felt her shoulders slouch to her torso, her brow knitted in a permanent frown.
Crap.
Sweetie Belle and Pinkie Pie traded a glance with one another, the latter hoping the former would have some answers to the peculiar predicament she was in. All she was given was a slow shake of the head in disapproval. Or at least, Pinkie thought it was disapproval. She couldn't tell. Sweetie also looked a little worn out in the eyes, making it hard to read her complexion.
Scootaloo's hooves left her muzzle, and a sigh rolled in the back of her throat.
"Well, there ya go. I might as well tell you all I can't fly either. You ruined my night for me, Sweetie Belle. I hope you're happy."
Sweetie felt her physically flinching at the accusation. She never heard her pegasus friends sound like this before. The words left her throat as if they had been struggling to be free from her mind for a long time. Sweetie realized there and then that the mare she was trying to help needed more help than she anticipated. This wasn't just painful for her to admit, this was agonizing. She had this bottled up inside for Celestia knows how long.
Sweetie Belle realized too late that Scootaloo was a very troubled mare.
... No. No, it's not too late. Not yet.
Sweetie Belle took a hesitant step towards her pegasus friend, her hoof raised in the air as it longed to comfort her companion. She paused, thinking carefully about the words she knew Scootaloo needed to hear.
Sweetie inhaled deeply, expulsing her breath only after holding it in for several long seconds. "Why would I be happy?"
Scootaloo's head slowly craned upward, her neck twisting to meet the eyes of her friend with a raised brow.
"Why would you think I'm happy if you're sad?"
A pause. She tried to find the answer, but her mind was still reeling.
Scootaloo's mind wandered down memory lane once more, recalling instances of shared joys and traumas with her and the Crusaders. How they would always have each other's backs, even if they didn't agree with one another all the time. How they would always care for each other and their futures, even if they didn't inherently or intentionally show it. How they would always look out for one another, even if they weren't physically present all the time.
She gazed into the Jade Irises of her friend, still waiting patiently for Scootaloo to say something. A thorn of guilt pricked her heart.
"Why would you think I want to see you sad?" Sweetie asked softly, her tone bordering worry and empathy.
As much as she wished to reply, Scootaloo had no answer to that.
"Well, that's silly." Pinkie quipped from the porch, careful to not sound insensitive. "I don't think there's a single pony in Equestria that wants to make you sad. I don't know anypony that would want to make anypony sad, except maybe for some of the big baddies we faced but they're gone now! What you are saying sounds like something you would only say to yourself to forget about something bigger."
Scootaloo's ears piped up at Pinkie's surprisingly astute observation. Her eyes met with the cerulean pair that was tactfully observing her, seeing her beaming with that same jubilant and eccentric smile she always wore. The one that sparked only pure joy for both the user and the recipient thereof.
She envied that smile.
Her gaze drifted down at the dirt on the ground with an admitted petulance, but one that felt warranted. She heard a thump on the ground as her unicorn friend sat beside her, gently draping a hoof over the back of the neck. The snowy hoof gripped her a little closer to the mare sitting beside her, squeezing her in a small but tight embrace.
Pinkie was about to speak but caught Sweetie's reaffirming and firm stare, bidding her to an uncharacteristic silence. Upon seeing the earth pony's ears wilt to the side of her head, she felt a little guilty but otherwise nuzzled her friend softly as she opened her muzzle to speak.
"Listen, I didn't mean to scare you. And if I did, I am sorry. It was never my intention to get you—... stoned." She spoke the words with a bitter taste in her mouth. "I had no clue about anything the cakes were doing or anything like that. I swear it. I was only trying to get you to visit Pinkie Pie to have her help you." She spoke the name whilst gazing at the pony in question with a tentative glance. "I only want you to have a good time on your own accord. I would only want to push you out of your comfort zone if I knew it would help you. But not like this. This was not what I had in mind, and I never intended for you to feel like this.
"Nopony is trying to force you to open up about yourself if you are not comfortable. Nopony wants to see you sad at all. Nopony wants your life to be miserable. But if you want us to help you, and if this is really hurting you... Then talk to us. Let us help you. Okay?"
Scootaloo's eyes never left the ground as Sweetie finished her reassuring words. She felt the corner of her eyes sting as they threatened her composure.
She was at an impasse.
On the one hoof, her mind was terrified. The familiar cold blanket of Anxiety clung to her like a plague, seeping into her psyche and threatening her resolve. She wanted nothing more but to run away, to dig a hole and hide in it forever. But knowing that she can't fly as well would make it easier for them to catch her if she tried to run. That thought alone only continued to shovel more snow around the already frigid cocoon of indifference she had concocted for herself. She wanted nothing more but to submerge herself in it, to wallow in her misery.
Which leads her to the other hoof.
Blinking a few times to rid herself of the threat of tears, she slowly gazes up at Sweetie Belle's comforting eyes, who gazed upon her with only worry and empathy, and a little patience. She knew this was unfamiliar territory for her, and vice versa. Sweetie was not acclimated to being a supportive shoulder to lean on, and yet she chose to brave Scootaloo's anxieties for her in a quest to help her be rid of them if possible. Scootaloo was not acclimated to exposing herself like this in front of other ponies, especially to ponies who knew her. Celestia forbid if word got out that Scootaloo was crying about the fact she couldn't fly. She would never hear the end of it.
But they would never do that. And she knew this deep down.
She knew that they only wanted what was best for her. She knew that they only wanted to see Scootaloo happy and beaming with the same youthful energy she had fostered in her days as a filly. She knew they were better than that... And that scared her more than anything. She once more found herself in the least desirable position for the second time that night, with a choice that had seemingly immense consequences but yet she had very little agency to choose from. She could only give in and surrender to her vices, or give in and relent to her friends about said vices. Neither were good choices.
Still, she had come this far. And her friends were patiently waiting for her to say or do something.
... Crap.
"Um..." She whimpers. Shaking her head and clearing her throat, her voice found composure once again. "Um, I... Pinkie Pie?"
The earth pony's ears finally perked up from her head. "Yeah?"
"Can..." She paused. No, that wasn't the right way to say it. "Are you..." No, that wasn't it either. "Is it..." Ugh, this was harder than she thought.
"Do you want me to keep a Pinkie Promise to not tell anypony about what's going on?"
Again, scootaloo found herself surprised at Pinkie's sharp perception.
"I can do that. All you have to do is ask."
Swallowing a thick band of saliva, Scootaloo took a shaky breath. Her wings were quivering slightly beneath the touch of Sweetie's hoof. Upon noticing her hesitation, Sweetie gripped a little tighter with her embrace. The wings stopped twitching soon afterward.
Scootaloo closed her eyes, steeling herself for what would be the most difficult conversation she was ever going to have.
"Can you keep a secret for me Pinkie Pie?" Scootaloo found the words leaving her mouth with ease, more than she was expecting.
Pinkie's smile softened as she raised a forehoof, "Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!"
Seeing the pink earth pony recite the sacred promise felt immensely comforting for her, but not enough to shake the blanket of anxiety just yet.
"I—" another quick and shaky breath expulsed, "I need your help."
