“That’s it, come on!”
Lightning could feel sweat dripping down his face as he completed one wingup after another. He could see his father’s hooves as he paced before him, but didn’t dare to look up. He just continued on, pushing himself as his father began counting down.
“Nine… eight… seven… six… come on Lightning, push it!”
Lightning often wondered why his brother wasn’t getting this treatment. But he knew in the back of his mind the reason why. Fire was a good child for their father, he was obedient and kind to everyone. But he didn’t outwardly show their father that he was interested in sport flying. He was smart, and kept his dreams a secret, one for he and Lightning to discuss in the late hours of the night, just before he snuck out to practice.
Lightning had always wanted to be a stunt flyer, and he hadn’t considered when he expressed his dreams how seriously his father would respond. Once Lightning had passed Basic Flight School, his father had taken things into his own hooves.
“...Three… two… time!”
Three hours a day spent building his wing muscle, an hour of running to build his stamina, then two hours of flight formations and drills. Lightning ended each day collapsed onto his bed, sometimes he even fell asleep in the shower. Lightning now lay on the ground quite similarly, panting for breath as his father stood over him, holding a stopwatch.
Winning Streak was not the type to let anyone beat him or any member of his family in anything, as his mark signified. Three blue ribbons with a loudspeaker behind them. He was insistent on maintaining top marks in everything you did. Lightning never understood this, but he was forced to abide by it.
So, as he stood up, panting for breath, he physically flinched as he heard his father giving a familiar tsk, gazing at the stopwatch.
“You slowed down towards the end, Lightning.”
“I-I’m sorry, sir, my wings were getting sor-”
“Did I ask you for an excuse, Lightning?”
“N-No sir!” Lightning straightened up, keeping his eyes staring straight ahead.
“That’s what I thought. I’ll expect twice as many pull-ups on the bar. Go.”
“Yes sir!”
“Lightning?” Thunderlane rubbed his eyes as he entered the home gym in their cloud house, which Lightning had insisted they add. “It’s four in the morning, what’re you doing…?”
“Sorry Thunder, didn’t mean to wake you.” Lightning took a sip from his water bottle. “I just wanted to work on getting my wing strength up.”
“...It’s an off week.” Thunderlane pointed out, wings fluffing out slightly.
“Exactly.” Lightning grabbed a towel and began drying his face. “Can’t let myself lag behind, was the second-worst flyer by a slim margin the last five practices, need to get my numbers up. I’ve narrowed it down to wing strength, so I’ve got to work on tha-mmph!”
Lightning let out a muffled yelp of surprise as Thunderlane’s lips collided with his own. He allowed the towel to drop from his hoof onto the floor, sinking into the gentle kiss of his lover. It was warm, and inviting, and Lightning could feel the pressure to just stop everything and go cuddle with his coltfriend building in his chest. He was so, so grateful that Thunderlane had agreed to set up a new house with him for the off weeks. It was only their first week there, and Lightning never wanted it to end.
But he could hear, in his head, the sound of his father’s disappointed tsks, and the clap of his hooves as he shouted for him to keep going. Just one more lap… one more wingup…
He pulled away, attempting to go back to the pull-up bar, but Thunderlane had a hoof on his shoulder.
“Light, you’re doing really well already. You don’t need to do any extra training, I promise. I bet Spitfire would tell you the same if you asked her, too.”
“Well, I didn’t ask her.” Lightning looked into his coltfriend’s amber eyes. “And I don’t care if I’m doing well, I need to be doing great. I can’t fall behind.”
“Light–”
“I’m fine, Thunder. Just… just go back to bed, okay?” Lightning leapt up onto the pull-up bar. “I’ll make breakfast when I’m done.”
Thunderlane hesitated, before leaving the room, leaving Lightning alone with his thoughts and the exercise equipment. Lightning sighed, shook himself, and then began doing pull-ups, going up and down, the repetition beginning to soothe his mind. His hooves hurt, he realized dimly. He forgot to chalk them up before starting. It was okay though, he was used to the pain. Used to rushing in without preparations. As his father said, if Lightning didn’t think ahead, he would face the consequences.
“Keep up the pace, Lightning!” Winning Streak shouted as Lightning ran laps around the track at Cloudsdale Flight Academy. “Keep those wings closed! Go, go, go!”
Lightning sped up, doing his best to keep his breathing even as he raced around the track. He could feel his legs shaking, his muscles tensing as he strained them, forced them to go just one step farther, one more lap…
His hoof twisted, and he went flying forwards. Lightning’s chin hit the synthetic rubber of the track, and he could taste blood in his mouth as he bit his tongue from the force. He closed his eyes, still breathing heavily as he felt his hoof throbbing. His ears were ringing, and he rolled onto his back, gasping for air.
“What was that?!” Winning stormed over to him, a fury blazing in his eyes. “I told you to run!”
“I-I’m sorry, sir.” Lightning panted.
“Get up.”
Lightning took a deep breath, doing his best to even out his breathing.
“I said get up!”
Lightning rolled onto his side and got up on shaking legs, his twisted hoof sending a shock of pain through his body the second it touched the ground. Winning glared at him, gazing down at his hoof as he instinctively lifted it off the ground.
“...What are you doing?”
“S-Sir?”
“Are you going to let a tiny injury stop you?” Winning questioned, snarling. “You think the Wonderbolts will let you stop because of a little injury?”
Lightning flinched, his ears flattening to his head as he stared down at the ground. Winning slapped him across the face and he yelped, bringing his head up obediently.
“Get out there, and keep running. Don’t stop until I tell you you can. Do you understand me?”
Lightning took a shuddering breath, and nodded. Winning flew back to his spot on the bleachers, and Lightning staggered back into the lane. He flapped his wings once to regain his balance, then, ignoring the pain in his hoof, began to run again.
He didn’t end up stopping until Fire Streak arrived to tell them their mom had made dinner. Winning left without him. Fire helped him back home.
Lightning flipped the fourth pancake onto the plate, beside the fried egg and potatoes. He turned the stove off, then grabbed the syrup bottle, slathering the pancakes in the sticky substance before setting both the plate and bottle on the table. He sighed and sat down in the chair opposite the food, with his own plate consisting of a single hard-boiled egg. As he began eating his breakfast, Thunderlane wandered out.
“Pancakes?” Thunderlane sat down in his seat, tugging the plate over to himself, giving Lightning a gentle grin. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you were buttering me up for something.”
Lightning laughed weakly, taking slow bites of his egg. “N-No, nothing like that…”
Thunderlane dug into his food, though he looked concerned as he saw Lightning’s singular egg. Reaching across the table, Thunderlane rested his hoof on top of Lightning’s. Lightning looked up at him in confusion, and he sighed.
“Lightning… we, uh, we need to talk, okay?”
“Talk?” Lightning’s eyes widened. “L-Like, like, break up talk–?”
“No! No, nothing like that Light.” Thunder smiled at him fondly. “I love you, okay? A lot.”
“Then… then what is this about?” Lightning asked quietly.
Thunder sighed. “I’m worried about you, Light. You… you’re pushing yourself when you don’t need to, you won’t stop and rest, you’re practically starving yourself with a diet you don’t need–”
“I’m fine.” Lightning snapped, pulling his hoof back. “Come on Thunder, you know me. I told you when you asked if we could build this place together that I have a strict training schedule.”
“But you’ve never told me why.” Thunderlane pressed, standing up and coming around to Lightning’s side of the table. “Light, this isn’t fine, and I think you know that. I don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”
Lightning was silent as Thunderlane nuzzled him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Lightning just finished his meal and stood.
“I’m going out for a flight.”
“Light–”
“I’ll be back later, Thunder.” Lightning put a wing around him for a brief hug. “I love you.”
“Love you too…” Thunderlane sighed, watching Lightning fly out the door, before he returned to his food.
Lightning Streak was going faster than he felt he ever had before. He could hear his father screaming from the stands, shouting to go faster, faster still, to overtake the other flyers. It was the fourth of six heat races to determine who would make it into Blue Angel Flight School’s Elitist Rank, the Gold Angels. Lightning Streak had been training for this moment ever since he had first been accepted into Blue Angel, and he was determined to make it into the Gold Angels, to wear the golden trimmed jacket with pride as he walked through the halls.
They were entering the final lap, and Lightning just had one other pegasus in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted his father, screaming from the stands, hoof raised and shaking at him furiously as he yelled.
“Overtake her! Go on, fly, fly, fly! Crush her!!”
Lightning narrowed his eyes from behind his flight goggles, wings folding in to be as aerodynamic as possible. He zeroed in on his target, the red streamer being held up on either side of the track by volunteers. The wind rushed past his feathers, carrying him forwards as he spread his wings wide once more, and in two powerful flaps he had overtaken the mare. The red streamer broke at his chest, and with a loud cheer, Lightning landed with a gallop.
“Yes! That’s my son!” Winning made his way over to Lightning with a grin on his face. He slapped Lightning’s back proudly. “Just two more heats and you’ll be in the Elites!”
“Y-Yeah!” Lightning panted, smiling wide. “You really think I can do it, dad?”
“I know you can, son.” Winning responded, turning as Fire Streak came up behind him with a proud smile. “Did you see your brother, Fire?”
“I saw him, dad.” Fire gently placed a wing over Lightning. “Good job little bro.”
Fire’s eyes never had quite the same smile as he wore, not when he was around Winning. Lightning had noticed, and he believed he understood why. But when he saw the proud expression on his father’s face, nothing else mattered.
He was going to win the next two heats, and make the Elitist Rank. He had to, he reminded himself. His father had put so much time and effort into making sure Lightning would succeed. It was time for him to pay his father back for all he had done.
Besides, Lightning wanted to be an Elite. They could pretty much join the Wonderbolts the second they graduated, and that was Lightning’s dream. He had to become a Gold Angel, he refused to remain a Silver Angel for the rest of his time at the school. Fire Streak may be content with staying at Professional Rank, but Lightning was not his brother.
Lightning returned from his flight to find Thunderlane on the couch, reading a book. He smiled softly and moved to go lie down with him. Thunderlane instinctively opened a wing to allow him into his embrace, and Lightning was quick to accept the invitation. He snuggled up against the stallion with a smile, head resting against his coltfriend’s black coat.
“What are you reading?”
“Mystery novel.” Thunderlane replied, leaning over to nuzzle his partner. “You have a good flight?”
“Yes, I did.” Lightning replied shortly, looking away from him. “Can we just… sit here, please?”
“Sure Light.” Thunderlane sighed, kissing his forehead. “We can do that.”
Lightning curled up against Thunderlane, closing his eyes and sinking into the warmth. His sore muscles appreciated the rest, and he smiled as he sank into the comforting feel of his stallion’s embrace. Maybe it would be alright, just to rest for a little bit longer…
But then a memory came, unbidden. Lightning tensed, and he was certain Thunderlane could feel it, though he made no comment. A cold breeze blew by, courtesy of the fact their house was made of clouds, and he shivered, hunching slightly as the memory entered the forefront of his mind, and he began to feel the emotions all over again.
“Lightning!”
Lightning Streak’s eyes opened slowly, and with a groan, he tilted his head up to see his father standing over his bed, giving him a disappointed look.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“You… you said winners get to sleep in…” Lightning mumbled, eyes closing again.
“I don’t remember saying that.”
He had said it. Lightning remembered. His mother had brought out the celebratory ice cream for winning the fourth heat – Lightning hadn’t been allowed any, of course, because his father was making sure he stuck to his diet – and Winning Streak had announced that Lightning would be allowed to sleep in as late as he liked the next day, because he had earned it.
“But–”
“No ‘buts’ Lightning. Winners don’t get to sleep, winners want to keep winning, so they keep practicing. Do you understand?” Winning Streak asked.
Lightning could only muster a halfhearted groan in response, settling deeper into the warmth of his bed. He didn’t understand why his father was doing this, both Fire and their mother could back him up, Winning had said he could sleep in.
“Alright, have it your way then.”
A flood of cold water suddenly came crashing down onto Lightning’s head. He gasped in shock and sat up in bed instantly, eyes wide as he stared at his father. He was holding a gray stormcloud above his head, clearly the source of his unexpected shower. Winning’s eyes were cold, sharp, and uncaring.
“Feel free to keep sleeping, Lightning. But I doubt you’ll be very comfortable now, hm?”
With that, Winning left the room, leaving Lightning to stare after him in shock. Fire would peek into the room not long after he left, and help Lightning dry off. But once he was dry, Lightning followed his father out of the house, and back to their training area.
He learned two things that day. One, winners don’t get to have luxuries like sleep. Two, no matter what Winning Streak promised, he could always back out of it.
“Lightning?”
The cold of the rainwater was gone, and Lightning was back under the soft caress of his coltfriend’s wing. He shivered once more, looking at Thunderlane.
“Y-Yeah?”
“Are you alright? You got quiet all of a sudden.”
“I-I’m fine,” Lightning smiled at him. “Just lost in thought.”
“...Alright.” Thunderlane ran a hoof through his electric blue mane. “I was thinking tomorrow we could go down to the market in Ponyville. Stock up on groceries and have some quality time together. What do you think?”
“S-Sounds great.” Lightning gave him a halfhearted smile. “I’ll be waking up early again though.”
“Light–”
“Thunder.” Lightning’s smile dropped and he looked into his eyes. “We’re not arguing about this again. Please…”
Thunderlane sighed, closing his book. “Yeah, okay. I’m going to go make lunch. You want anything specific?”
“I’ll make my own lunch later. You know I have a diet.” Lightning responded, getting up and heading back towards the gym.
“Lightning…”
“I’ll be doing stretches if you need me.”
“...Fine…”
Lightning was sometimes allowed by Winning to train at the track with the other Silver Angels after school, as long as he promised not to share his tricks with anyone. That was why he was currently on the Professionals training grounds at the school, surrounded by others his rank. He was just stretching out after his exercises, or at least, the ones he was allowed to do in front of his fellow Professionals. He had won the fifth heat, as expected, and now there was only one more to go until he was a Gold Angel.
Fire was nearby, talking with some other Silver Angel students, but Winning had told Lightning to stay away from the competition. So he went through his exercises alone.
“Hey.” A voice spoke up from behind him. Lightning turned around to see a light green colored colt about his age. “Just wanted to say congrats on winning the last heat.”
“Oh, uh, thanks. Sprog, right?” Lightning’s muzzle skewed as he tried his best to recall the fellow flyer’s name. He laughed and walked over to sit in front of him.
“Spring. Spring Feather.” The colt smiled. “And you’re Lightning Streak, the fabled younger brother of Fire.”
“Fabled?”
“Well, you hardly ever show up to Silver Angel hangouts. We only ever see you in races, were starting to think you didn’t exist.” Spring laughed. “Why do you never come? Don’t like pizza?”
“My father has me on a diet.” Lightning replied, stretching out his wings and giving them a couple experimental flaps.
“Oh, yeah, your father. Seen him at the heats. He’s, uh… he’s kind of scary.”
“I-I wouldn’t say he’s scary… he’s, um, he wants me to be the best.” Lightning replied, and Spring gave him a look. He smiled sheepishly and laughed. “A-And he’s really scary.”
“Hey, so, um… is going to the mall allowed?” Spring asked, somewhat hopefully. Lightning smiled shyly.
“Yeah, I think I can swing that.”
“Great. You want to go now?”
“Sounds good.”
Lightning got up eagerly and followed Spring off the track. He had finished his exercises anyway, he could spend some time with the colt. He seemed really nice, too. Surely his father wouldn’t mind as long as he had already done his training and didn’t reveal anything about his practice methods.
The next morning started much the same as the last had. Lightning was up before the sun, doing wing-ups, pull-ups, any kind of exercise he could think of. He had been making laps around the house when Thunderlane came to get him for breakfast. They ate in silence, and this time Thunderlane made no comment on Lightning's meal, which consisted of a single carrot.
Once the two had finished, Thunderlane grabbed the shopping bags and a list he’d made of groceries they needed. The two flew down to Ponyville together, and when they landed on the edge of the marketplace, Thunderlane was quick to drape a wing over his coltfriend. Lightning squirmed uncomfortably, causing Thunderlane to look at him in concern.
“Everything alright?”
“It’s nothing.” Lightning tensed as a small crowd of other ponies passed by. “Can we just get going? Thanks.”
Lightning slipped out from under his partner’s wing and trotted towards the nearest vegetable stand. Thunderlane followed behind, frowning, but he let Lightning have his space as they worked their way through the stands, buying groceries.
“Howdy ya’ll!” Applejack, one of the Ponyville Apples, greeted the two stallions with a friendly grin as they approached her stand. “What can I do for ya?”
“Hey AJ, we just need some apples.” Thunderlane set some bits on the counter, and Applejack gave him the apples with a smile.
“Have a good day!”
“You too!” Thunderlane extended a wing, pulling Lightning against his side with a smile as he turned to leave the stand. Lightning ducked out from under him yet again, heading out of the marketplace. “Hey, Light, wait up!”
Lightning continued walking as Thunderlane flew after him. He made his way out of the town, heading further out towards the forest. Thunderlane landed beside him as he eventually slowed down.
“What was that about?”
“T-Thunder, you know I don’t like it when you–”
“When I what, Light? Show affection to my coltfriend?” Thunder snapped, glaring at him. “I don’t understand, why won’t you just let me show my love for you?”
“It’s fine if you want to when we’re alone, Thunder.” Lightning could feel his body shaking, and began digging his hoof into the ground in an attempt to steady himself. “But I… I’m not comfortable letting others see. Okay?”
“...Okay.” He felt Thunderlane place a hoof around his shoulders. “Are you alright, babe? You’re shivering.”
“I-I…” Lightning took a breath, before opening his eyes and nodding. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“...You’re not fine.” Thunderlane sighed, leaning in to nuzzle him. “But okay. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Thank you…”
“Lightning, I thought I told you to stay away from the other Professionals.” Winning paced back and forth in front of his son, who stood in the living room silently, at attention. “They’re your competition, you can’t be making friends with them.”
“Y-You told me I couldn’t… reveal anything.” Lightning stammered. “A-About my training regimen, or my wingspeed or something else they can try to compensate for. It was just a trip to the mall…”
“And what were you even doing there, when you were supposed to be training?” Winning asked sharply.
“H-He invited me, and I was… I was finished with my routine, so I agreed, and–”
“Oh, you finished?” Winning stepped closer. “You finished the whole training routine before you went?”
“Y-Yes, i-it was the one you tell me to do when I go train with the others my age–”
“What have I told you about excuses?” Winning was glaring now. “You disobeyed me, Lightning. I expected better of you.”
“W-Well, Fire Streak’s a Professional and you don’t tell me to stay away from him!” Lightning blurted, earning him a slap across the face.
“Fire Streak isn’t your competition, is he?!” Winning shouted, stepping closer towards his son with an enraged look in his eyes. “He’s not trying for Gold Angel, but the rest of them are!”
Lightning ducked his head, blinking back the tears that welled in his eyes. Winning had a favorite saying about boys not crying.
“...You can’t even be normal, can you? At least your brother is good with the mares, but you just have to hang around a colt.”
“What’s wrong with a colt…? Fire and I played with other colts all the time when we were younger…” Lightning tried to reason.
“You’re not a child anymore, Lightning. You need to grow up, colts don’t hang out with other colts when they’re teenagers. They try to get mares. You want ponies thinking you’re some kind of coltcuddler?”
Lightning felt a stab of hurt in his chest as he heard the word. His father didn’t seem to notice his slight flinch, or at least, didn’t care.
“Well? Do you?”
“N-No sir…”
“Good. Now go to your room.”
The rest of their off week passed without much incident, in Lightning’s opinion. He spent time enjoying Thunderlane’s company as best he could between training. His coltfriend may have argued that he had spent far more time than was necessary exercising, but Lightning begged to differ. He knew he had been right to train the moment they got in the air.
The breeze whipped past Lightning’s body, and he couldn’t help smiling as he took off into the wide open sky. His wings powered him through the air faster than they had before, he could tell, even if the difference was only slight. Spitfire led the group through drill after drill, and Lightning didn’t tire out as easily this time.
He was not the second-worst flyer of the day now, nor was he worst. Lightning was confident he’d managed top three best, at least.
“Good work today, ‘bolts.” Spitfire praised them once they had all landed. “Excellent form, I’m thinking we start working on a couple new moves by Wednesday. Now go hit the showers, you all stink!”
“Yeah, you don’t smell daisy-fresh yourself, Cap!” Rapidfire called, earning a round of laughter from the rest of the crew.
“Hey, Lightning! Thunderlane said he’d make pizza, you coming?” Rainbow Dash called to the stallion as the team headed inside.
Lightning glanced at his coltfriend, seeing how Thunderlane was watching him expectantly out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head, turning back to Rainbow.
“I’m gonna take a couple laps first!”
“Suit yourself.” Rainbow shrugged, turning away to catch up with Soarin and Fleetfoot. Lightning himself turned away and headed for the running track on the base.
Rainbow was a good friend, and Lightning liked her. She was a lot like him, driven, determined to be the best, and one of the fastest flyers on the team. However, she was also one of his fiercest competition. Not only was she lithe and quick like Fleetfoot, but she had almost the same stamina as Soarin. Top three was fine, but Lightning’s goal was to be number one, and that rank was currently hers.
Luckily, Rainbow Dash was a good flyer, but compared to his own, her exercise regimen was unbalanced and sporadic. Rainbow had a naturally fast metabolism, she had told the team herself, and this had made her loosen her grip on her training routine. The mare was fiercely competitive, sure, but only when she knew she was in a competition. Right now, she thought that she alone would be occupying the top spot, and Lightning made no effort to correct her on the matter.
After all; he thought as he lowered himself against the hard surface of the track; why would she ever suspect him? With that, Lightning took off running, a smirk on his face as he began sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. He kept his breathing even, like he’d been taught, and continued to run. It was all he wanted to do.
“Okay, seriously, how can you still not understand this?” Spring laughed as he watched Lightning struggle over his homework.
“Cut me a break, math has never been my strong suit.” Lightning laughed. “Just tell me again.”
“Okay, look, it’s soh-cah-toa. Sine, Cosign, Tangent.” Spring emphasized with a grin. “It’ll save your sorry butt next test, I promise.”
Lightning laughed, smiling at Spring. His father was at work, and Lightning was allowed two hours for homework after school while Winning was working. So, he took a risk and invited Spring Feather over. He needed a tutor anyway, and Spring was the best in math class.
“Hey, you want one?” Spring asked, holding up the tin of cookies he’d brought over. Lightning shook his head no with a laugh. “Wait? Seriously? Your diet is that strict? What, have you never had a cookie or something?”
Lightning didn’t even have to respond, the embarrassed flush on his face enough of an answer for him. Spring stared at him in shock, biting into the cookie himself.
“Will you stop looking at me like I’m some kind of uncultured swine?” Lightning laughed.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Just, geeze, what kind of leash does your dad keep you on?” Spring laughed. “He must be really strict if you can’t even eat cookies…”
“Okay, okay, look, he’s not that bad.” Lightning smiled softly as he set his notebook down, finishing the last problem. “Look, how many dads are just not there for their kids? My dad is always there for me. He’s been at every race ever since I told him I wanted to get to Elitist in Blue Angels.”
“Well… I guess that’s true. I’ve seen him at every heat so far.” Spring admitted, and after a moment's hesitation, he continued. “But if it’s all he lets you do…”
“Oh, come on, he–”
“–Lightning, you’re usually last to leave at practices. And you never hang out with the rest of us.” Spring cut him off. “There’s more to life than training, winning, repeat, you know.”
Lightning blushed and looked at the ground. “It’s not that bad…”
“Then tell me your favorite book.” Spring challenged, and Lightning went quiet. “Favorite band?” Lightning still gave no response. “Really?! At least tell me that you have a crush on one of the Wonderbolts!”
Lightning’s blush deepened, and though he could hear his father’s words burning in his mind, he smiled shyly, still staring at the floor. “Well… I do have a crush… but it’s not a Wonderbolt.”
He chanced a look up at Spring, seeing the colt was staring at him, a deep blush on his face. Lightning felt his own face heating up as he stared into the colt's beautiful eyes. Spring leaned in, and Lightning followed his lead.
The kiss was gentle, and sweet. The way Spring’s wing wrapped around his shoulders as the kiss deepened only felt better. Lightning wished it could never end.
When Lightning finally slid into bed, mane still dripping from his shower, he could feel his heart beating in his chest. He may have done one too many laps, considering the workout Spitfire had put them through prior, but he just couldn’t stop. Like his father said, if you’re not winning, you don’t deserve to be anything.
That night, he couldn’t sleep, no matter what he tried. After tossing and turning restlessly, Lightning finally stopped resisting temptation. He got up, trotting over to Thunderlane’s bed with a soft sigh. Lightning tried to be as quiet as possible, but he was pretty sure a couple of the others were still awake, and at the very least heard him getting up. Nevertheless, Lightning crawled into Thunderlane’s bed, curling up beside his partner.
“Mm… Lighty…?” Thunder’s eyes cracked open slightly, and the stallion gave his coltfriend a sleepy, but concerned nuzzle. “Wha’zzamatter…?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Lightning whispered, rubbing his nose against Thunderlane’s. “I’m okay now, you can rest…”
Thunderlane smiled softly, pulling Lightning in close with his strong hooves. Lightning loved that about his partner. Thunderlane was a strong, formidable stallion, yet he was gentle at the same time. He was always ready with a kind word, or a fond smile, or just a shoulder to cry on. Lightning had yet to invoke use of that last one, but Thunderlane always made sure he knew it was still available.
Lightning snuggled deeper into Thunderlane’s comforting warmth, soon finding himself drifting off to sleep. By the next morning, Lightning found himself buried in Thunderlane’s chest fur, the stallion snoring softly into his golden mane. He managed to slip out of the hold before the usual time Spitfire came in to wake them, and from there he headed off to the gym.
He couldn’t allow himself to slack off, especially now that they were back on duty.
Lightning was flying like he never had before. It was the last lap of the final heat. He just had to push a little bit harder. Spring was right on his tail, another racer fast behind. His chest was heaving, his heart was pounding, he could feel the sweat dripping down his body. The sixth heat race had the most laps so far out of all of them. But it would be worth it, just one more lap, one more race and he’d be in the Elites.
Lightning swerved around the curve of the track with ease, heading for the steadily approaching finish line. Then, he heard a yelp of pain, and his head whipped around to see what had happened.
It was Spring. He had crashed against the side of the track, his wing now bent unnaturally as he struggled to continue on with the race. Lightning flared out his wings to slow himself and fell back to meet him.
“Are you okay?!” Lightning asked frantically.
“What are you doing, Lightning?!” Spring asked right back, giving him a shocked look. “Keep going!”
Lightning hesitated, but then nodded, and with another powerful flap, he continued down the track. Unfortunately, it was too late. He had stopped at the wrong moment, and despite doing his best to flap his wings harder, to reach the red streamer before the others…
…He crossed second.
Lightning landed on the clouds beneath the track, panting for breath. Winning Streak strode up to him, looking very unhappy.
“Lightning, what’s the rule?”
“A-Always look… look forward.”
“That’s right. Look forward. Forward. Never back.”
“I-I… Spring was hurt, h-he’s my friend, I had to–”
“Your friend?!” Winning kept his voice low, but the anger was clear. “Out there, no one is your friend, Lightning. They’re your competition. Especially the colt I told you to stay away from!”
“I-I still finished second.” Lightning offered. “T-Top three make the Elites.”
“Yes, top three, that’s wonderful.” His voice was full of scorn. “But only a winner truly earns the spot, don’t they?”
Lightning’s ears flattened back, and he nodded quietly. Winning walked away from him without another word. Lightning could feel his eyes burning, but refused to cry. He turned away from where his fellow Silver Angels were congratulating the other winners. He saw Spring was being tended to by the medic on standby, but made no attempt to approach him.
They weren’t supposed to be friends, after all. Especially not coltfriends. He didn’t know what he was thinking, to be honest. In the end, his father was right. He was always right.
Lightning should have been looking forward, not back.
Soon enough, the first week back at Wonderbolt Headquarters had passed, and they were into the second week of the month.
Lightning and the rest of the team were running laps around a grounded version of the obstacle course they usually flew through. He was slowly falling into a rhythm with it, and had long since made his peace with the idea when Spitfire first suggested it. It wasn’t altogether too different from some of the training exercises his father had made him do. The others seemed to have more complaints.
“So what exactly is the point of this?” Blaze asked loudly, slowing to trot in place beside Spitfire, who was timing them.
“The new moves we’ve been working on are more complicated than I anticipated.” Spitfire explained, raising her voice so the others could hear. “I figured we should practice strengthening our other muscles up a bit more before we continue with them. It’ll also help you re-learn how to regulate your breathing. You’ll see the improvement, I promise!”
“We better, or I think I could sue!” Misty Fly joked, laughing as she ran, only to cry out in surprise as Lightning Streak bolted past her. “Woah! Hey, guys, look at Lightning!”
The others slowed their own paces, moving off to the side to observe the younger of the two twins. Even Rainbow Dash lifted off to fly out of the way before Lightning could knock her off course with his surprising speed.
Lightning wasn’t paying much attention to the others. His ears were flattened to his head, breathing regulated to be perfectly in sync with his stride. He leapt over each hurdle with ease, cleared the hoops without even flaring his wings out to gain extra lift, and wove around each cone with the experience of any good runner.
“Where did he learn to move like that?” he heard Wave Chill ask as he passed by, but ignored the question.
It was only on his fifth – or was it sixth? – lap that Spitfire decided to step in.
“Lightning! Lightning, you’re good, you can stop now!”
His hooves hit the ground as he cleared the last hurdle, skidding to a halt before his team. Now panting for breath, Lightning trotted over to them calmly, wings unfurling on his back as his instincts took over, trying to cool his body down.
“H-How’d I do?”
“Oh my gosh Lightning, that was so awesome!” Surprise cheered. “How did you do that?!”
“Training?” Lightning responded, confused. “How else?”
“Impressive time.” Spitfire noted, smiling as she nodded at him. “Much faster than most of the others, and you got more laps in during the time limit. Granted, most of ‘em stopped to watch you, but it’s still really good.”
Lightning felt instant pride and gratification well up in his chest, and he beamed. “Thanks, I, uh, I guess all that practice paid off.”
“Yeah, well, next time I’ll beat you, Streak.” Rainbow grinned at him. “You better bring your A-game, because they don’t call me Dash for nothing.”
“They also call you Crash, though!” Misty Fly brought up, and the group all began laughing, even Rainbow herself. Lightning allowed himself a small smile, but didn’t join in the fun.
“Come on guys, it’s nearly dinnertime.” Soarin flapped his wings eagerly. “Thunder, you said there was pie, right?”
“Cool your jets Soarin, that’s for after dinner.” Thunderlane laughed. “Come on, I’ll whip up some actual food for us, if Spitfire approves.”
“Have at it Thunder. And Soarin, dinner’s only soon if two hours counts as soon, you greedy lump.” Spitfire wrapped a wing over Fleetfoot, waving them all off. “Break time everyone!”
“To the methth hall!” Fleetfoot agreed with a grin. “Move out!”
The team laughed and headed off together. Lightning, however, stayed back by the course, causing his brother to wander back over.
“You alright, Lightning?” Fire asked, and the younger brother gave him a smile.
“Yeah, I just want to fit in a couple more laps. You know what dad always said, if you’re not training, you’re losing.”
Fire frowned, but gave him a slow nod of agreement. “That is… a thing he said. Don’t push yourself too hard though, okay? You know how Spitfire gets.”
“I won’t, I promise.” Lightning laughed, waving his brother off. “You better go before Soarin eats all the food my colt makes.”
Fire smiled softly, nodding, before heading off after the others. Lightning waited until his brother had disappeared into the building with the rest of their team before trotting back over to the course. He tucked his wings in tight, took a deep breath, and ran.
The night after the sixth heat was tense. Lightning kept his head ducked as he ate, not daring to be the first to speak. Winning was silent and stoic, Fire and their mother were watching the two cautiously.
Finally, Lightning couldn’t take it. “C-Could you pass the green beans, dad?”
Winning grabbed the serving bowl containing the desired vegetable, and Lightning’s eyes widened hopefully as he reached to accept it. But his father went right over him and instead all but shoved the bowl into his wife’s hooves. She stared at him in confusion, before offering the bowl to Lightning.
“Lightning, dear, did you want them?”
His mother held the bowl out, and Lightning reached to accept them with a grateful smile, but Winning was faster. He grabbed the bowl back and set down by his right side, so that he was between the dish and Lightning. The message was clear: winners get seconds.
Lightning scuffed a hoof against the table, taking another bite of food. “S-So, um, the Gold Angels coach–”
“Fire Streak.” Winning interrupted him, and the elder of the twins looked up at him, nervous. “What’s new with you?”
“Uh… I finished third in the last Professionals race… and I joined the science bowl team.” Fire responded after a minute. Winning nodded, gazing at him seriously.
“Jack of all trades, master of none.” He said, putting his utensils down so he could gesture while he spoke. “You quit the science… thing, you’ll finish the next race first.”
Lightning’s heart stung. He had devoted so much of himself and his time to making his dad proud, to doing everything he asked. Fire hadn’t even revealed his interest in flying to their dad, and yet the second Lightning slipped up, Winning turned his attention to him.
“–And you know, if you don’t excel at anything, you’ll just be a loser.” Winning remarked, and Fire could only nod silently. The tiny formation of rage inside Lightning sparked, and he sat up straighter.
“...I’ll go to the science bowl with you Fire.” Lightning spoke up, before lunging across the table for the bowl of green beans. Despite his father moving to block him, Lightning managed to get his hooves around the bowl and made to lift it over to his side of the table.
Winning looked furious, and he immediately grabbed the other end of the bowl. The two tussled over it for a moment, spilling a few green beans from the way the bowl was being shaken. Eventually, Winning got a firm grip on it, and yanked it out of Lightning’s hooves. As Lightning fell onto the table from the force his father had tugged with, Winning tossed the ceramic bowl against the nearest wall. It shattered loudly as it came into contact with a picture frame hung there, the green beans flying everywhere. Some landed in Lightning’s mane as he got off the table and sat back down in his seat.
“And what’s more,” Winning continued right where he left off, looking straight at Fire as he spoke like nothing had happened. “I can’t even hear losers, son. It’s like they’re dead to me.”
Lightning felt a tear running down his face, similarly to how the green beans were now falling off the framed photo of their family.
Lightning’s heart was pounding and his head was aching slightly, probably from dehydration. But he couldn’t stop now, he had to keep going. His breathing had become ragged, and he struggled to get back into the rhythm. He just had to keep pushing, just a little bit longer.
He was leaping over the hurdles when it happened. His back hoof caught the hurdle, and he stumbled on the landing. His front right leg buckled - it had always been weaker since the first time it was sprained - and he collapsed.
Lightning didn’t even cry out when he hit the ground. His wing scraped against the rubber of the track as his hoof folded under him, but he still didn't make a sound. He winced in pain, sure, but otherwise was silent as he lay on the ground, giving himself a moment to get over the shock. He could feel his hoof throbbing, and he knew his wing was bleeding, feathers surely bent out of place. Lightning coughed up some blood, feeling a sting on his cheek where it had smacked against the hard surface he was now sprawled on.
At last, Lightning managed to get up with a soft hiss of pain. His wing was dragging down on the ground, and his hoof felt like it was broken. But still, he stood on his own hooves, keeping his eyes open to prove the pain would not stop him.
“C-Come on Lightning… come on…” Lightning placed his hoof down on the ground, gasping as the pain rippled through his body. “Come on, keep going…”
Lightning looked around at the darkening sky. They usually ate dinner at eight, and Spitfire had called off practice at six. He had been out here running the course for two hours, at least. He wasn’t sure what time it was now. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Still, he might as well head back, lest someone come looking for him. He could power through the pain just as well in the HQ as he could on the course.
Lightning did his best to disguise the limp as he made his way up the steps into the HQ. He folded his wing up against his side, the broken feathers falling behind him. He needed a shower. That was all. He could walk it off, it wasn't broken, he was sure.
“Hey, Lightning, you missed din–oh buck!” Soarin dropped the plate of pie that he was holding. “Guys!!! Guys, Lightning’s hurt!!”
Well, so much for keeping a low profile. Lightning placed his hoof on the ground and began walking through the pain, hoping to make it into the locker rooms before–
“Light!”
…Before that happened.
Thunderlane raced up to him, at the head of the group trotting towards him. Lightning hesitated, but Thunderlane had blocked him with a wing before he could consider heading into the locker rooms. Spitfire and Fire Streak were the first to reach them, scanning his injuries with worried expressions.
“Lightning, what happened?” Spitfire demanded once she had finished looking at his bleeding wing and swollen hoof.
Lightning managed a half-smile and short laugh. “I just, ah, tripped while running on the obstacle course.”
“And what were you doing on the obstacle course?” Spitfire was looking at him weird. Why was she upset?
“I was training?”
“For three hours?” Thunderlane spoke up, staring at him in shock.
Oh, so that’s how long it had been, good to know.
“I-I lost track of time, it’s not a big deal.” Lightning forced a smile.
“Dude, what kind of training do you have if you can run for three hours straight on top of the hour we were all practicing?” Blaze asked, and Lightning allowed his confusion to show.
“You… you guys don’t… what kind of training do you have if you can’t do that?”
Fire Streak looked sad. Lightning didn’t understand. Why were the others looking at him like that? Like he was the odd one out?
“Look, we can talk about that later. You need to get those taken care of.” Spitfire gestured to his injuries. “Come on, Thunder and I will help you to the infirm.”
“Spitfire, I’m fine.” Lightning insisted. “I just need to walk it off.”
“Walk it off? Lightning, that looks like a severe sprain if not a fracture!” Thunderlane grabbed his shoulder with a hoof. “You are not fine!”
“Guys, come on, leave him alone.” Fire Streak sighed, putting a hoof on Thunderlane’s shoulder to keep him back. “Give him some space, you don’t understand–”
“What?! Fire, you can’t tell me you agree with him!” Thunderlane snapped. “Light, what is going on?!”
“Thunderlane, you don’t get it–”
“What don’t I get, Fire?!”
“Look, it’s not my story to tell, but you just need to trust me, okay?” Fire turned back to his brother. “Lightning–”
“Leave me alone, all of you.” Lightning limped into the locker rooms, face set with determination. He could hear the others still talking outside.
“Fire, what’s ‘not your story’? What are you talking about?” He heard Spitfire ask.
“Like I said, Spit, it’s something he needs to tell you himself.”
Lightning grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. He didn’t understand. They had all been looking at him so strangely. What was the big deal? Surely they all had routines like that.
It didn’t matter, a shower would help wash off the blood, and the cold water would slow the swelling. He was fine. Everything was fine.
Lightning could see his father standing by the track as he flew around the course. He was getting to the front of the pack slowly, but steadily. The Gold Angel races were longer and more endurance-based than Silver’s had been, but Lightning had doubled up on training since the heat races. After all, only winners made Elites, and only winning Elites managed Wonderbolts.
Sure enough, on the final lap of the race, Lightning overtook the last two racers in front of him. He smiled and took off, breaking through the red streamer with a grin. Once he’d landed, Winning Streak walked up to him with a proud smirk.
“That’s my boy.” Winning thumped him on the back, putting a hoof over his shoulders. “You did good.”
“Thanks dad.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lightning spotted Spring Feather trotting up to him with a wide smile. He turned to face the colt nervously, frowning, but Spring just continued to smile brightly.
“Hey, Lightning, I saw the race, congratulations on winning!” The colt held up a wing for a friendly wing-bump. Lightning glanced at his father, who was staring at him expectantly.
“Yeah, um, thanks.” Lightning said, turning away. He didn't need to look back to know that the smile had fallen from Spring's face.
“Come on kid, let’s celebrate.” Winning had a slight smugness in his tone as he led his son away.
Spring Feather stayed out of his way after that race. Lightning regretted not telling him that his dad had ordered him not to make friends with other colts, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t need friends, he had Fire Streak for company. Besides, you didn’t get to be a Wonderbolt by making friends. You got to be a Wonderbolt by winning.
Lightning winced as he left the locker rooms. His wing had stopped dripping blood, but it was still stinging where the feathers had fallen out. His hoof fared no better, as it still hurt to walk on, but he had no choice. You work through the pain, you can’t let it stop you or slow you down.
As he made his way through the Wonderbolt Headquarters, Lightning found the others sitting in the rec room. He calmly stepped in, ignoring their stares, and sat down next to Thunderlane, leaning against him. Thunderlane immediately got up, and Lightning nearly fell down onto the couch.
“Hey!”
“Light, what’s going on with you?” Thunderlane asked, looking into his eyes. “Please just tell me, I’m worried about you.”
“We all are.” Spitfire added, getting up and coming to stand by Thunderlane. “Lightning, you can’t be running yourself into the ground. Thunder told us about how you were acting when you two were staying together during the last off week–”
“You what?” Lightning turned to stare at Thunderlane in disbelief. “Why?”
“Because I was worried about you, Light!”
“I told you I was fine!”
“Well, I don’t believe you.” Thunderlane responded, glaring.
“Lightning, can you just…” Spitfire sighed and sat down in front of him. “Can you tell me why you’re so… devoted to training all of a sudden?”
“...What do you mean all of a sudden?” Lightning blinked at her in confusion. “I’ve always been devoted to my training.”
“What? Okay, then how have we not noticed this?” Sun Chaser questioned, she and the rest of the team moving closer. Lightning noticed how Fire Streak and Thunderlane were the closest to him, save for Spitfire.
“Well, you know… if you get too obvious about your regimen then others can find and exploit your weak points.”
“We would never do that!” Surprise protested, and High Winds placed a wing over her mouth, shaking her head no.
“I’ve never heard that.” Rainbow added.
“Yeah, wouldn’t you want to share your regimen so that you can compare with your friends and improve?” Soarin agreed.
“What are you talking about Soarin?” Lightning was very confused now. “You were a Gold Angel too. So were you Spitfire, and you Fleetfoot.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Spitfire asked
“Only winners can make Elitist rank, and winners don’t have friends, they only have competition.”
“Okay, who told you that?” Rainbow Dash said loudly. “I never made Elitist rank in Blue Angels, but I’m still a winner, right?”
“I… I don’t understand, that’s what… that’s what he always told me.” Lightning mumbled.
“Who?” Spitfire prompted. Lightning bit the inside of his cheek, and looked up at Fire. The stallion sighed heavily.
“Our father.” Fire elaborated for him. “That’s all I’m saying about this.”
“Lighty?” Thunderlane sat down next to his stallion with a concerned frown. “What did your father tell you?”
Lightning looked down, feeling his eyes burning. “He, um… when he found out I wanted to be a Wonderbolt, he decided to train me himself, along with the training I was already getting when I got into Blue Angel’s.”
“Wait, just you? What about Fire?” Misty asked
“I never told him I wanted to be a ‘bolt, so he kind of just… left me out of it.” Fire Streak explained. “He made Lightning his priority.”
“That still doesn’t sound too bad.” Rainbow said.
“It wasn’t!” Lightning insisted. “He helped a lot, I won a lot of races because of his extra training, and he was always so proud of me!”
“Only when you won.” Fire Streak pointed out. “Remember when you finished second in the final heat to get into the Elites?”
Lightning flinched. “He was just… disappointed in me.”
“He threw a bowl at the wall.” Fire Streak retorted. “Lightning, he was a terrible father.”
Lightning flinched. “Maybe he got mad sometimes, but he loved us, Fire.”
“It doesn’t really sound like he did.” Thunderlane lifted Lightning’s chin. “Light… is… is he why you won’t let me give you affection in public?”
“...When I was in Professionals, I-I had a friend… Spring Feather.” Lightning blushed lightly as he recalled the handsome colt. “I hung out with him even when my dad told me that I shouldn’t. I got close to him, and… we kind of… I guess we were coltfriends, but we never made it official. He was… he’s why I came in second at the sixth heat race. He got hurt and when I turned around to check on him, I lost my place.”
“And then your dad threw a plate that night?” Spitfire asked softly.
“He… he had a rule. Always look forward. Never back. I looked back, so I lost. He said… he said losers were dead to him.”
“Lightning, that’s… that’s not okay.” Thunderlane nuzzled him. “Wait… is that why you won’t let us look at your hoof? Did he tell you to just walk off injuries?”
“Well, if you don’t, you won’t win.” Lightning explained.
“That’s not true, Light. You rest when you’re injured so that your body can heal.” Spitfire held out her hoof. “Can you let us check out that hoof?”
Lightning hesitated, before nodding, and lifting his injured hoof. Spitfire took it and began examining it, while Soarin trotted over to help. He winced in pain as they felt the injury, until Thunderlane put a wing around him.
“I’m sorry, Thunderlane…” Lightning whispered. “I-I’m sorry f-for being so rude to you…”
“Hey, it’s okay Light.” Thunderlane kissed his cheek gently. “But you need to tell me this stuff, okay? I’m worried about you.”
“We all are.” Spitfire agreed, setting Lightning’s hoof down. “It looks like a minor fracture. Could you take him to the infirm, Thunder?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks. And Lightning? I think you should get some therapy. If what you told us was just half of what he used to do to you, it’d probably help a lot.”
“I… I’ll consider it…” Lighting said softly, as Thunderlane stood up, helping him stand.
The two stallions made their way to the infirmary. Lightning stayed quiet as they trotted down the hallway. He remained that way the whole time they were in the infirmary. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad, the medic just bandaged his hoof and wing, then placed a band-aid on his cheek before he sent them off.
“Are you alright, Light?” Thunderlane asked, leaning in to nuzzle him.
“Yeah… I’m fine, Thunder.” Lightning smiled at him. “Thank you, for… for everything. I love you.”
“I love you too, Lighty.” Thunderlane smiled back. “Hey, you haven’t eaten, right? I still have some leftover soup. It’s tomato basil.”
“I… you know what? That sounds delicious.” Lightning admitted.
Thunderlane leaned in and gently kissed his coltfriend. Lightning kissed back, lovingly, and in an instant, whatever had been holding back his emotions dissolved. He began crying softly, pulling out of the kiss and shying away.
“Hey, babe… come here…” Thunderlane gently pulled Lightning into his hooves, wings wrapping around his body. “It’s okay… just let it out…”
Lightning continued crying into Thunderlane’s chest, clinging onto him. Thunderlane ran a hoof through his mane soothingly. After a long time of crying into Thunderlane’s soft fur, Lightning finally felt… empty, but relieved at the same time.
“Feeling better, babe?”
“Y-Yeah… can I have that soup now…?”
“Of course Lighty.” Thunderlane led him away, smiling softly. “Are you really going to get therapy…?”
“Y-Yeah… I think I need to…” Lightning clutched Thunderlane’s hoof in his uninjured one. “I-If you’ll come with me…?”
“Of course, Lightning.” Thunderlane kissed his cheek gently. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ve missed your energetic self.”
Lightning blushed and smiled softly. “I missed it too.”
Thunderlane nuzzled his cheek, and Lightning nuzzled back. The two headed down the hall, towards the kitchen.
As it turned out, Lightning was a winner. Real winners felt loved, no matter how many races they won or lost. Because love wasn’t something that was earned, it was given out freely. Lightning was more than eager to feel real love for the first time. He only hoped one day, he could break through his past enough to feel worthy of it.
Author's Note
This story was originally going to be short, and then it exploded. But hey, I finally churned out another Wonderbolts-centered fic, and look, it's a ship!
I know it's probably kind of bad that every time I write the Wonderbolts, one of them ends up revealing a traumatic event/backstory. But honestly, I now have a headcanon that the Wonderbolts are a team of mentally scarred/traumatized ponies who find support and compassion in each other. They're more than just a team, they're a family, and together they will find happiness and love.
Hope you enjoyed!
~Melody Song
