A Rainbow in Autumnby SerketryChaptersRainbow ConnectionHappy Drunk, Angry DrunkStill No Regrets, Rainbow Dash?Rainbow ConnectionRainbow Dash woke up in her cloudstuff bed, and was not ready to meet the day. Something felt off. It wasn’t a hangover- those always sucked- but the usual spark to hop out of bed, speed through a shower, and hit the clouds for her morning workout just wasn’t there. Instead, she rolled over and wrapped herself up in her sheets. It was bitter cold, but nothing she hadn’t dealt with on a regular basis. “Eh… w’rk’t c’n wait…” she moaned incomprehensibly. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Her nine o’clock alarm went off; her weather crew shift started in thirty minutes. Normally this would’ve been when she’d return home, take another shower, scarf down some breakfast, then head to work. She wanted to get out of bed. It just wasn’t happening. Maybe working double shifts- her usual cloudbusting, and surveying the Everfree for Twilight’s investigation- was starting to take its toll on her. Maybe she just needed another ten minutes, then she’d get up. Rainbow Dash arrived at her assigned cloud grid almost an hour late. Everypony else on her shift was already working on their respective sectors, rounding up loose cloudstuff and corralling it to the condensation point, just outside of town. She hadn’t had time to shower, so her mane was pressed up against the side of her face. The cold, damp autumn air wasn’t helping. Cloud Kicker nodded at her captain, “Ah, Miss Efficiency finally decided to show up, huh? Gonna work an entire sector in ten seconds flat again?” The others laughed. Rainbow Dash just shuddered, that chill still gnawing at her bones. Her stomach ached, and she couldn’t tell if it was hunger, or nausea. Maybe she was sick, the feather flu or something. Maybe she should see her doctor. Maybe I should just stop. “Uh, you doin’ alright, boss?” Thunderlane asked, at least faking concern, before the crew chief turned back to his sector without waiting for an answer. Dash got to work, rolling up cloud fragments, watching for static charge and ice chunks- nasty little surprises that snuck out from the Everfree Forest’s airspace. Like any other day, Dash had assigned the most dangerous sectors to herself. Her team had gone a full four years without casualties- nopony had died on her watch, either. Just because Dash felt like crap wasn’t any reason to put her crew in danger. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. She was only vaguely aware the others had long since finished their work in this area and had moved onto other assignments. Dash looked down at Ponyville’s large sundial, built for exactly this sort of aerial use. It was barely past noon. “This rutting day…” she muttered to herself. Why am I even up here? “Because the weather crew needs me. I’d never leave a-” her words hitched in her throat. She needed a drink. Berry’s Place was pretty empty, noon on a workday. An older stallion nursing a beer. A young couple necking in the corner over some greasy pub fair. And Rainbow Dash, at the bar, working on her third drink. She’d started off with just a bottle of cider- she still had work to do- but then switched to straight applejack. The drink, not the pony. Two shots wouldn’t be enough to ground her. She had a lot of practice drinking alone. So it came as some small shock when Applejack- the pony, not the drink- trotted in, and made a beeline straight for her. “Ah was worried Ah’d find you in here,” Applejack grunted as she hoisted herself onto an adjacent bar stool, “How many’ve you had?” “Urrr… my third. What’s up, AJ?” Dash replied, putting in the conscious effort to make eye contact. “Ah ain’t seen you so poorly since…” the farmer paused, rubbing her chin, “well, since your lil’ adventure with Twilight ‘n Rarity ‘cross th’ pond.’” Yeah. Dammit AJ, when you’re right, you’re right. Dash just sighed, and finished her shot. “But that was weeks ago. An’ -no ‘ffense- Ah wouldn’t peg you as the type to get lost in recollectin’. So what’s yer trouble?” It took Rainbow Dash a moment to put words to what she was feeling, had been feeling all day. When the words did come, they spilled out all at once, “Aren’t I supposed to, like, embody the Element of Loyalty? What does that even mean? When Twilight went missing, when that cockatrice got her, we just… abandoned her!” Dash swung a wide hoof and knocked over her empty glass, “I could’ve done more. I know I could. I just…” Applejack swiveled on her stool to face Dash directly, and nodded for her to continue. “And the whole cock-up with Gilda, shit! She’s my oldest friend, AJ, I knew her before I met Fluttershy! And I just… and I just left her there on that dingy, rank-ass train platform. She needed help, so what if she was… I dunno, physically incapable of asking for it? I think I’m rutting this up, AJ. I think I’m rutting this up.” The farmer listened, nodded, then chewed her words over before replying, “So what’re ya gonna do about it? ‘Cause Ah doubt the solution’s in th’ bottom of that glass.” Dash looked down at her empty shotglass, rolling around on the bar’s tacky countertop. “Well, not this one.” Applejack straightened up to her full height- normally a bit taller than Dash, but now a full head taller than the slouching pegasus, “Persephone’s pusillanimous pucker, RD! Ah can’t help you with Gilda, but th’ least you c’n do is, Ah dunno, go talk to Twilight? Last Ah saw, she’s hunkered down at the library.” The farmer’s voice never rose above casual conversation volume, but the sheer intensity drove the weatherworker to lean away in her stool. “Notus’s balls, AJ, breaking out the five-bit words already?” Dash chuckled mirthlessly, as she steadied herself. “Well, Ah ain’t often given to bouts of sesquip’dalious loquaciousn’ss… but Ah’d be a shitty friend if Ah didn’t warm you up ‘fer yer talk with Professor Sparkle,” Applejack grinned, lowering her hat to just cover her eyes. “Hmmrf. She’s just Dr. Sparkle, there’s a difference.” Dash muttered. Then she sat up straight, herself, “Ask me how I know that.” Applejack slid off her stool, and started ambling towards the door, “Ah stand corrected. See’ya ‘round.” And with that, she was gone. Dash sat there for a few more minutes, before digging through her saddlebag for a wingful of bits, paying her tab, and heading out. On her way to the library, she looked up at an unsettlingly dense patch of off-white clouds, ripe for converging into a minor stormcloud right over town square. The faint flicker of a lightning bolt roiled around inside, ready to strike in about an hour. She didn’t even need to see the gridzone designations, this was one of her sectors for the day. I never leave a pony hanging. Three drinks sloshing around her brain was nothing for Rainbow Dash; launching into a textbook acceleration arc, she climbed to cloud level, busted her sector, and was done with a two-hour work detail in just under five minutes. Feeling more than a little better, she glided the rest of the way to the library’s big landing balcony, already considering what she might say. Rainbow Dash landed, a gnawing uncertainty still eating away at her. She paused, took in a few quick, deep breaths, then opened the door. The little doorbell jingled to announce her presence as she looked down into the main room. This still being the public library, Twilight usually kept the area clear of her ever-encroaching wall of paperwork- at least during business hours. Today was not one of those days. Virtually every horizontal surface was covered in graphs, charts, and more than a few textbooks and binders. Dash even recognized a few of her own surveying maps, next to or superimposed over radion heatmaps collected by the Lapwing. “Hello? Sorry about the mess,” Twilight called up from inside her office. “Give me… one second… and I can help you find what you’re looking for-“ her voice got louder and clearer as she left the confines of her office, eventually looking up to see Rainbow Dash hovering awkwardly over the parchment sea. “Oh! Rainbow Dash, need something?” “Uh, yeah, do you have a minute? There’s something I’d like to talk about.” Dash tried to project confidence, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was working. The scholar looked around for a clear spot for her friend to land. There was none. “Step into my office…?” Twilight craned her neck over her shoulder, grimaced, then muttered, “Never mind, I’ll meet you up there.” In a magenta snap she was standing next to Dash, up on the balcony. Her expression shifted, just a bit, when she saw the pegasus up close. “Is something bothering you?” she asked. Rainbow Dash sucked in air, then she began, “I want to apologize, Twilight. I’ve kind of been… err… not been doing the best job I can do.” Twilight cocked her head, confused, but didn’t interrupt. “Just… I dropped the ball when you got stoned by that cockatrice, I- I know there was more I could’ve done to help find you, or help Spike, or Marigold, or Fluttershy. I could’ve flown more recon missions, I could’ve actually helped track that thing, I…” This time, Twilight did interrupt and tried to give her friend a small, warm smile, “You did the best you could, Dash. I studied the space bubble the cockatrice was using as its lair; you could’ve flown over it a hundred times, with a full scanning suite, without ever knowing it was there. And I do know you were there with Dr. Daycaller when his scrying solution failed.” She tentatively reached out a hoof, and placed it on her friend’s shoulder, “Tell you what. How about you buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even?” “Back so soon?” Berry quipped from behind the bar, as Dash and Twilight trotted in. “You know it. Two whiskeys, neat.” Dash sidled up to the bar, and Twilight awkwardly followed. Dash could tell the egghead wasn’t big on the whole nightlife scene- at least, not as she’d describe it. Pouring over ancient texts until sunrise wasn’t exactly what the pegasus would call an exciting evening. And yet, as soon as Berry brought their drinks over, and Twilight took her first sip, she started talking. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Two shots became four, became eight, became twelve. Rainbow Dash didn’t understand half the words coming out of Twilight’s mouth, but she could follow the flow, the gist of the lecture, even through the technobabble. Something about how sixth-, seventh-, and ninth- dimensional scans wouldn’t have detected that space bubble, even if deployed right on top of it. Dash pulled her perception back for a second; she didn’t know all the concepts Twilight was explaining, but she did understand Twilight did. And as one technical expert to another, she respected that. It also sounded like Twilight didn’t get to talk about her field of study all that often. More to the point, Dash understood Twilight wasn’t getting all the respect she deserved. She knew that feeling. It sucked. Well, Twilight’s a good friend. At least I respect her. It was a shame she couldn’t hold her liquor, though. Six drinks in- well, nine total, today- and Dash was still ready for prime time, while Twilight was wobbling on her stool like a bent weathervane in a tropical storm. Twilight needed this, and she hadn’t even known it until Rainbow Dash landed on her balcony, proverbial hat in hoof. She still didn’t fully understand Dash’s guilt, but the cost of a few drinks and letting Twilight chat her ear off for a bit seemed like a small enough price to make her pay. Twilight steadied herself on her barstool; she wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but she really didn’t drink that often, either. She wasn’t a fan of drinking alone, Spike couldn’t drink, and after Lyra moved away and their Ogres & Oubliettes group broke up, there wasn’t even that excuse. Her expression soured for a moment, but she shook her head. No, she was having a good time, and she would not let Minuette and her fundamental inability to show up on time bring her down. Six shots of booze on an empty stomach, though, and she was really starting to feel the buzz. That was OK. Higher-dimension edge detection of folded liminal spaces was a key focus in her master’s thesis, and she could talk about this, and this whole space bubble nonsense, in her sleep. She might’ve had to, when the floor pulled a particularly crafty spin that left her clutching her barstool with all four hooves. Was she supposed to spin with the room, or against it? Right when she felt she had it under control, Rainbow Dash reached a hoof out to steady her. She leaned into it, and into Dash. Close enough to pick up the sharp scent of lightning in her coat. A whiff of alcohol on her breath. Just a hint of sweat. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wasn’t bad, either. Twilight exhaled, and pushed herself back upright, finding herself staring into Dash’s eyes. Her brilliant, piercing cerise eyes. Did she always have such beautiful eyes? And her mane, the way it cascaded down her neck, the light glinting off each spectral step. No, if she had to put a toe on it, it was those wings; the delicate, elegant feathers, and the taut, corded flight muscles that rippled each time they moved. She had to admit, it was always a treat anytime she could watch the chief weathermare at work; it was like she owned the skies. Twilight’s breath hitched in her throat- though that might’ve been a hiccup. Ask her out. Ask her. Just ask her. Twilight’s mind spun faster than the room. Good thing she had a big strong pegasus propping her up. Ask her. Ask her. Kiss her? Rainbow Dash had to hang onto Twilight with two hooves and a wing, now. If she’d known the scrawny unicorn was going to get this shitfaced, she never would’ve ordered that last round. Honest. She stared into Twilight’s unfocused eyes, and asked, “Are you ok? Do you need me to walk you back home?” Twilight pitched forward again, opened her mouth, and belched, before collapsing into Dash’s shoulder. “Haha, nice! I felt that in my tail.” Dash clapped a hoof into Twilight’s back. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” As carefully as possible, Dash extricated herself from the bundle of noodly limbs her friend had become, slipped off her bar stool, then lowered Twilight onto her back in a firemare’s carry. Her own hooves felt like stone. Tingly, cloudstuff stone. Maybe a bottle of cider with an eight-shot chaser was beginning to stress even her tolerances. It definitely gave her a buzz. But hey, she was Rainbow Dash, and she never left a pony hanging. She sucked in a few deep breaths, then lugged her friend outside, down as many back alleys and lesser-traveled streets as possible, back to the Golden Oak under a beautiful autumn sunset. Shouldering the door open, she tried as best she could to avoid stepping on any important paperwork- an impossible task- as she wormed her way back to the stairwell leading up to the bedroom loft. “Still with us, Twilight?” She asked over her shoulder. “Yesszz I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Twilight slurred back. “Alright, let’s get you into bed, ruggin’ lightweight,” Dash chuckled. Twilight mumbled something in reply, but she couldn’t make it out. Eventually, they reached Twilight’s bed- neatly made, of course- and Dash rolled the drunken scholar onto the comforter. She frowned, expecting Twilight to finish crawling into bed, or stand up, or do something. Instead, she just laid there, looking up at her. “I sssaid, it’d be nice if yooou would join me…” Twilight muttered, before flopping over onto her side. Eventually her breathing slowed to an even, quiet snore. While it wasn’t the most uncomfortable Rainbow Dash had been, she still found it very awkward. Her dock clamped down, reflexively, and all she could do was whisper, “I’ll be right back with some water, it’ll cut down on the hangover,” before taking to the air and heading downstairs as quietly as she could. In the surprisingly well-stocked kitchen, she eventually found which cabinet held the glasses- she swore, it was like each and every kitchen made a game of hiding what went where- filled one with water, then froze. She’d have to fly this up to Twilight and her… proposition. “Dang, Twilight must be drunker than I thought,” she said to the empty room, “She… has to know I like stallions, right? That’s not a secret or anything.” She pivoted and paced around the kitchen, glass held absently in her wing, “I mean, I guess I might double up with a mare, you know, if there’s also a stallion.” She laughed nervously- unsure why- as she continued her hypothetical, “Like, I wouldn’t turn down, say, Soarin, if Spitfire was also there.” She stopped, as her shoulders drooped, “Ah, who am I kidding, that’s never gonna happen.” Dash stood in the empty kitchen for a solid minute, fidgeting in silence, before concluding, “Daagh, buck up. Think of it this way, me: I’m Rainbow Dash, I’m so awesome even the mares want me.” With that, she headed back upstairs. “Uh, hey, Twilight? I’ve got your water,” she called out. There was no reply. Tentatively peaking over the edge of the loft, she found Twilight still passed out in a drunken stupor, hanging over the side of her bed. Thank Boreas for small miracles. She dropped the glass off on the bedside table, then went to work rolling Twilight back into bed, getting her situated under the covers, and- most importantly- leaning her on her side, so that if she vomited, she wouldn’t drown. Surveying her work, she nodded, satisfied, and left for home. “Note to self,” she muttered, “Twilight is a terrible drinking buddy.” Later that evening, as she stood in her own kitchen and watched her pot of macaroni slowly boil, Rainbow Dash made up her mind. “Well… that worked out pretty well… Notus’s breath, fine, I’ll see if I can track down Gilda.” Leaving her noodles to cook on their own, she dug through the sizeable heap of old bills, paystubs, and the dozens of cards her parents had mailed her this year, until she found the reply letter she’d gotten from Gilda, as part of setting up their- no, Twilight’s- expedition. There she found the return address- the old one she remembered was wrong, and only by the grace of the Equestrian Postal Service had her initial letter been delivered at all. Scrivener’s Tower, Suite 103, Rainbow Falls. The irony was not lost on Dash. Dinner completely forgotten, she dove into the equally-massive heap of takeout menus, lawn care ads, and HOA notices to find her copy of the train schedule. Better safe than sorry, she also dredged up her overnight bag- basically just a toiletry kit- and stuffed that into her saddlebags, too. She'd head out tomorrow. Happy Drunk, Angry DrunkIt was a six-hour train ride from Ponyville to Rainbow Falls. Dash had planned on taking the three PM train, but when five AM ticked by and she still hadn’t slept a wink, she’d elected to take the morning train instead. That was a mistake. Her mind was simultaneously racing, and stuck in a sluggish morass. Her left hindleg jittered uncontrollably with nervous energy, while her eyes could barely focus. A mild hangover from yesterday’s twin trips to the bar weren’t doing her any favors either; she’d even ignored her own advice and forgot to push fluids, like a stupid teenager raiding her parents’ liquor cabinet. Stupid. That about summed this day up, and it was barely past noon. She was five hours into her six-hour ride, and she didn’t know what to say past ‘Hey, Gil.’ She rubbed her hooves into her gritty eyes, snagged herself another cup of Equestrian Rail tea, and forced herself to think. What did she want? How did she see this ending? What would patching things up with Gilda even look like? In a perfect world, they’d both head back to Ponyville together, she’d convince Twilight to put Gilda on the work schedule, and… profit? Dash was too addle-brained to plan that far. On the other hoof, the worst-case scenario- getting into a drunken brawl and beating the stuffing out of each other- would at least bring some closure. Her chest felt tight. Her nostrils flared as she tried to suck in air- deep, slow breaths to calm herself down. It didn’t work. She felt…fragile. Like she was about to cry. And that only made her frustrated. What is this shit, am I on my period? “Uuuuurrrrrgh…” she sighed, slumping in her seat, “get it together, asshole.” The next hour passed in excruciating silence. For the life of her, she couldn’t get it together. Even before the train pulled into Rainbow Falls’ single platform, Rainbow Dash could see the massive construction project off in the distance; a colossal lakeside cloud stadium, built around the largest industrial waste dump she’d ever seen. As objectively pretty as the cascading streams of rainbow runoff were to look at, Dash could feel her lungs shriveling up already. To anypony not familiar with weatherwork, it probably seemed above-board, too. “Ugh, and it’s aerosolizing too, gross!” she muttered, “… I guess Gilda wasn’t lying, this really is the worst work detail in Equestria.” It still beats Innsbeak... A candle in the back of her mind lit up: this stadium was slated to hold the next Equestria Games, right? Stepping off, she took to the air to try and find the construction offices. Maybe the foremare, or manager, or somepony could tell her where Gilda was. Feeling the tingly, electric burn of the prismatic spray starting to coat her wings, she dipped down to ground level as soon as she spotted a cluster of expandables and trailers just inside the site’s chain-link fence. Everywhere below her, the workers- mostly donkeys, but a sizable number were griffons, with more than a few minotaurs and goats in the mix- went about their business wearing cheap cloth respirators. With practiced smoothness that belayed her exhaustion, she touched down and opened the door to what she hoped was the main office, all in one fluid motion. Inside, a dozen ponies sat at their desks, blueprints and paperwork and drafting supplies semi-neatly scattered everywhere. A bespectacled mare seated behind what passed as the receptionist’s desk greeted her, “Uh, hello? Do you have an appointment? Are you supposed to be here?” Dash cantered up to the desk, and asked, “Hey, sorry, I’m looking for a… Gilda? She’s a griffon, she’s one of your employees?” She noted the receptionist’s respirator sat, unused, off to the side. The secretary’s ears pinned back, but she kept her voice level, “Any and all complaints about our contractors’ behavior should be filed with local law enforcement. Mighty Minotaur Construction LLC cannot be held liable for what its contractors do in their time off.” Dash cocked her head, “No no, I’m just looking for her.” Realizing it would’ve been easier to just go to Gilda’s apartment and wait, she tried to backpedal, when a gruff, sharply-dressed stallion stubbed out his cigarette and grumbled, “Gilda? She don’ work here no more. First she failed to properly requisition fer time off, then she came back unfit fer work. Then she shows up drunk,” He drew a fresh cigarette from his pack, lit it up, then concluded with a wicked grin, “So we bumped her from 1099 to W-2, then fired that turkey for cause, ‘bout two weeks back.” “So… you wouldn’t know where she is?” Dash asked. “Try th’ bar.” Rainbow Dash circled the town of Rainbow Falls in a wide, lazy arc. There wasn’t much to it: a couple streets, some long-abandoned carriage-making facilities, a few bars, and a single apartment complex; all bathed in a sickly rainbow-hued film, and lit orange by the autumn afternoon sun. She couldn’t tell if the toxic waste dump killed the town, or if Cloudsdale Weatherworks specifically chose this hollowed-out industrial husk as its dumping ground because it was already dead. Maybe it was both. The Springsteed music practically played itself. Dash struck out with the first three bars- each a grizzly affair where she got the clear sense she was intruding on the locals- and was about to give up hope as she approached the fourth and last watering hole. She was so exhausted, she didn’t piece together the clatter and scraping of hooves on hardwood right behind the door until it flung open violently, nailing her square in the muzzle. She certainly wasn’t expecting to be hit by a semi-conscious Gilda as she was tossed unceremoniously into the street, either, but the trio of donkeys inside must not've seen Dash standing there. Rainbow Dash scrambled to her hooves, adrenaline forcing her tired brain to focus on the coming fight- only for the patrons to shrug and head back inside, and for Gilda to flop around on the ground, eerily quiet. She ducked down and, careful of Gilda’s flailing limbs, she tried to help her friend at least roll upright. Her caution paid off as Gilda made a feeble attempt to rake her with her paws, slurring a barely coherent, “Gedoffa me yoo squirrely fucks, I’ll teach you t’stand still…” “Gil, it’s me. Rainbow Dash. I came back. I…” she trailed off, still unsure of what to say. Doubly so to an utterly sloshed, blindly belligerent bundle of sharp-tipped limbs. Gilda’s eyes focused, just a bit, on the mare standing over her. “Dashie? ‘Zzzat you? What’re you- HURP” She didn’t get to finish that sentence, as she wretched and dry-heaved herself into doubling over and curling up into a ball. Rainbow Dash could barely contain her disgust, though it was tempered by a healthy dose of pity. She’d been here before, more than once. “Gil… what the rut…” was all she could muster. After a minute, Gilda finally rallied enough to roll onto her stomach, legs mostly under her, though it looked like standing up was going to be a tall order. “Heeeey… m-my apardmend’s near here, we should h-urp-hang out.” With titanic effort, the drunk griffon rose to her feet, swayed hard to the left, but remained upright, “Yeah, issss nearby.” And with that, she slunk off down the road, head and wings bobbing like yoyos with each step. Dash paced along beside her, doing her best to prop her up whenever she started listing. “Uh, yeah, why not.” Gilda’s pace slowed, and she yawned- a big, catlike yawn that filled the air with the stench of cheap hooch- before grumbling, “I’m tired, RD.” For the second time in as many days, it fell on Dash to put one of her drunk friends to bed. She craned her neck and saw the optimistically-named Scrivener’s Tower- a three-story array of cheap-looking apartments that did indeed tower over the otherwise flat town. “It’s ok, Gil, we’re almost there. You’re in 103, right?” Gilda mumbled something incoherent as she dug through her feathers, eventually withdrawing a key. The fob confirmed the room number. Dash took the key, and did her best to hold Gilda’s wing over her back, to help share the weight. Gilda yowled and swiped absently with her talons; Dash remembering a bit too late that that was Gilda’s injured wing. “Shit, sorry. C’mon, I can see it, just a bit further.” Gilda just stared at the cracked asphalt road beneath her. “Hey, RD, you know what I love?” Dash shook her head, and kept trying to coax Gilda forward. “What do you love?” She played along. “I love my bed. I spent… ten… hundred… I spent so many bits on my bed. It’s all I’ve got.” She finally looked up, staring at Dash with hollow, vacant eyes, “It’s all I’ve got left.” It chilled Rainbow Dash to the bone. She did this to Gilda. She reached out and asked for her help. What a fantastic friend she’d turned out to be. “Shit… made m-myself sad again…” Gilda mumbled, “I know. I got- god- godda- ‘ey gottem!’” she interrupted herself, “got a joke. What was…. Right!” With purpose, she asked, “Hey Rainbow Dash: what’s the dif- no, what’ll- what- what does light beer have in common with ffff-sex on a boat?” Dash blinked, dumbfounded, and replied with a flat “What.” “They’re both ffffuckin’ close ta water! Ha!” She giggled, then chuckled, snorted, and threw her head back in a full-on guffaw, letting loose a deep belly laugh Rainbow Dash had never heard from Gilda before. “Gilda…” Dash chided, “That’s a Surprise-level joke, dang.” “Hey! Heey! Heeeey!” Gilda whined, “What did- that was unf- un-fuckin-called for.” The smell hit Dash before she even got the door open. Shoulder-checking through the carpet of empty cans, bottles, and fast-food wrappers, she found herself staring at an absolutely squalid single-room apartment. Rancid gyro meat, skunked beer, and a distinct, sickeningly-sweet floral smell she could only hope was cider assaulted her in waves. “Gah! Four Winds, what is that stench, Gil?” “Isss fuckin’- fuck- fffuuu-“ Gilda burbled. “It’s ruttin’ what.” Dash snapped. “Seeeex…” The griffon belched, sliding to the floor. All Dash could do was stare. “…Damn, G.” It was a messy task wrestling the half-conscious griffon into the only clean place in the room- her nest. Dash had to admit, it was a very nice nest. Free-hanging cloud-lined, climate-controlled, self-cleaning… and was that a massage function? Queen-size, too, and Gilda barely took up half of it. It dawned on Rainbow Dash that she’d been awake for over thirty hours, so far. That nest looked inviting, and she knew a thing or two about the importance of a quality bed after doing hard labor all day. “Uuuurgh…” Gilda groaned, “If you’re expecting a ‘thank you,’ you can go fuck yourself.” “Gil… I’m here because I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Dash explained, as evenly as she could wrangle her voice, “I left you behind. You don’t- ok, you didn’t exactly need my help… but you needed a friend. And I left you behind.” She sighed, and looked for any change in Gilda; her head hung limp over the side of her nest. “But I’m here now. I’m here now, Gil.” She waited for a response, her heart racing, wings tense. “Fuck. You. Dash.” Gilda spat out, head still drooped, beak almost touching the floor. “Yeah yeah-“ “I said fuck you, Dash!” She looked up this time, eyes rimmed red with tears, “Fuck you and your purple dweeb boss!” “Hey, let’s leave Twilight outta-“ Dash took a step back, defensively. “Fuck you!” The griffon shouted, finally managing to prop herself up on her talons, leaning into each word, “Fuck you for ever helping me!” “Gil, you can’t mean tha-“ Dash tried to admonish. “Fuck! You! For making me think I’d ever be more than worthless gutter-trash! Fuck you!” She howled, tears streaming down her face, lightning crackling through her wings, “Fuck you! Fuuuuuuuuck yoooooooou!” And with that, the griffon was spent. Her forelegs collapsed out from under her, and her beak clonked against the bed frame on the way down. Even the crying stopped. Dash stood there, fight-or-flight instinct paralyzed. If she were Fluttershy, or Rarity, or even Twilight, she might’ve known what to say, anything to say. This wasn’t something she could solve by flying fast, kicking hard, and making it look easy. Eventually, Gilda’s eyes tracked the pegasus, and she weakly spoke, between breaths, “Every time I make myself a cozy little seat in the clouds, I have to look down. Sometimes, I jump.” She swallowed hard, “Just a quick, one-stroke power dive, just like they taught us, and the ground rushes up at me.” Her breath hitched in her throat, “Sometimes, I close my eyes. The wind in my crest. The sun on my face. Gravity doing the job for me." She was quiet for a moment, "But my wings always spread, I always pull up. I'm not sure why." Rainbow Dash was horrified. Her exhausted mind raced, trying to think of anything to say to her friend. "It- it can't be that bad-" "Dash, you're a pony." Gilda's voice trembled, barely audible between breaths, "You lose your job, that sucks. I lose my job, I get deported. It'll happen any day now. You saw Innsbeak. You saw how bad it was. Griffonstone is worse." A sob shook her body, "And that's where I'm going." One memory finally emerged, early on in Flight Camp, when Gilda taught her a few common phrases. “’Peidiwch a gwyllto. Dialwch.’” She said, in undoubtedly butchered Griffish- seriously, why is ‘w’ a vowel? Gilda cocked her head, “’Don’t get hungry, revenge?’ OH!” It was a phrase every griffon knew, and even in her inebriated state she could tell what Dash was trying to say, “Don’t get mad. Get even.” She blinked, the whiskey-soaked cogs in her brain slowly but steadily trying to figure out what Dash meant by it. “…Gil, I heard you. If it’ll make you feel any better… I’m right here.” Dash rocked back on her hindlegs, bracing for a brawl. “Hey, shut up. For once, you’re right. I just need to- need-“ She slumped over in her bed, then curled up into a tight little ball, “Need to get some sleep. Revenge can wait ‘til morning… lousy stupid sun-damned supportive friend…” She was out like a light, filling the air with vodka-scented snoring. All at once, the adrenaline drained from Rainbow Dash’s body. Thirty hours no sleep… and that was one mighty fine nest in front of her. There was still an open half. Zephyrus’s warmth, there was even a second pillow. She glanced over at Gilda. Yep, she’ll be out ‘til morning. Dash took a moment to survey the room one more time; on the bedside table sat a small, framed picture. An adolescent Gilda and Rainbow Dash smiled and waved at the camera, having just passed their dreaded partial-pressure humidity written exam. She sighed, “Well, fuck me. This doesn’t count, Hoops!” As she pitched forward and passed the rut out. Still No Regrets, Rainbow Dash?Rainbow Dash felt the wind whistling through her wings, smelled the sharp bite of ozone, and heard the soft patter of rain falling from the clouds below. She soared as high as her little wings could carry her, desperate to gain altitude before she could even attempt her power dive. Hot on her tail, Hoops and Dumb-Bell heaved and panted, trying to keep pace with the younger, faster filly. But this was her moment. Somepony had to put those meatheads in their place. For Gilda. For Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash was about to do the impossible- Dash was rudely awakened by the rusty metal screech of the shower shutting off. Gilda’s voice, oddly soft and soulful, carried into the bedroom, “...I work and breathe among the fumes that trail across the sky. There’s thunder all around me, and there’s poison in the air… hmm-hmm-” The singing stopped abruptly, replaced by the telltale wplplplplpl of Gilda shaking herself dry. “Shower’s free, if you wanna wash that rainbow shit outta your crest…” The griffon called out, as she padded around the corner. Gilda looked at Dash, sprawled out on her bed. Dash looked at Gilda, still dripping wet from her shower. After a tense moment, Gilda just laughed, “Hahahaaa… I bet Dumb-ass would trade his left nut to see this.” Instantly, Dash felt a little more at ease, “Yeah, shit. Just ‘cause we turned them down for the Funnelcloud Formal, what, that’s all the proof they need we’re a couple clam-bakers? Fuck those douchebags…” A pensive energy still filled the room, as Dash waited for the last horseshoe to drop. “Yeah…” Gilda sighed, “So anyway, there’s a single restaurant in this dirtpile of a town that serves meat- and it’s a gyro place. When you’re done in there,” She nodded towards the bathroom, “How about I buy you a beer? Hope you like Clyde Light, or Dos Equinas.” Rainbow Dash felt her guard creeping back up. Gilda and generosity rarely mixed; and there was an air of finality in her words that felt less like comradery, and more like a last request. “Uh, yeah, sure…” She said, cautiously, “And then, maybe we can talk about what you want to do next?” A flash of anger flickered over Gilda’s face as she spat out, “What’s the point? I got fired for cause, nopony’ll hire me! Four Winds, you can’t even fire contractors, unless they…” she locked up, “...those extra signatures. What the-” she spun around in place, eyes wide- “were those my W-4 and I-9? Did they really take the extra time and paperwork just to fuck me over?” “Gil! Gil…” Dash tried to get her attention; once the griffon finally stopped pacing, she continued, “Gil, I made this offer in Innsbeak, and I’m making it again. The Ponyville weather team could use another set of wings. Part time, and the pay’s not great, but the cost of living’s also pretty cheap. There’s, uh,” Dash tried to remember what all went into the new employees’ packet, “decent PTO, and a retirement plan. You say nopony’ll hire you? Well I’m co-captain. The job is yours, if you want it.” She left the stay of deportation merely implied. Gilda’s stare pierced right through her, but she replied in an even voice, “Yeah sounds good. Take your shower, then let’s go.” Dash rolled out of bed, and immediately stepped in something cold and gooey. She looked down in horror at the white paste coating her hoof- and felt a wave of relief when she noticed the black plastic container. Tzatziki sauce, for the gyros. Which she’d just stepped in. “Yech… yeah, I’ll be out in a bit.” She delicately hopped towards the bathroom, trying her best not to do even more damage to the ruined carpet. Her efforts were rewarded with the sight of a truly disgusting bathroom. A fine layer of wet, tawny hair coated everything; preened feathers clogged the shower drain, an orange soapscum film covered the rest of the basin; and both sinks had small puddles of booze-reeking puke congealing away in them. She took a second to, out loud, thank the Four Winds this was one of those bathrooms with the weird separate room for the toilet; she’d hold it all the way back to Ponyville before she dared poke her muzzle in there. Gilda must’ve heard her, as she called in, “Oh hey, sorry, I wasn’t really expecting guests?” Dash swallowed hard, and quietly weighed her options: she could just not, and risk… what, scalp cancer? The rainbow runoff could be decorative, like the fountains at her house, but it just as easily could’ve already sterilized her. Or, she could buck up, take flight, and do her business without ever touching that disgusting- oh that wasn’t a floor mat. “UGGGGGH!” She groaned, “No, it’s fine, I’ve seen worse,” In a horror flick, she thought. Gilda was normally pretty messy, but Dash had to hope this level of filth was a recent development. Taking a shower without touching anything turned out to be a challenge, but Rainbow Dash was no stranger to flying under adverse conditions. She hovered under the just-less-than-scalding hot water, scrubbing vigorously at her mane to dislodge the iridescent, oily industrial residue. Snippets of Gilda’s voice carried over the sound the water, “…and it’s go, griffs, go, they’ll time your every breath, and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death…” What should’ve been a five-minute rinse turned into twenty minutes of terror, but she got it done. She glided out of that waking nightmare- only to find the apartment empty. “Gil?” She called out, “Sorry that took so long. Are you-” She drifted a bit further into the room, and noticed a scrap of parchment replacing the photo on the side table. Curious, she flapped over and read it. Dash, I guess I owe you a beer, but I can’t take your offer. What you said last night got me thinking, but I realized just now how bad it is. I could spend the last of my bits drinking myself to death, I could follow you back to Lamesville and work for Purplebitch Twilight Or I could do something that matters. I’m not the only grif non-pony getting fucked out here. Flight camp, the Weather Factory all four service Academies there all bullshit. If somepony wont fix it, somegriff might. Don’t get mad. Get even. Thanks for reminding me, G Rainbow Dash crashed through the apartment door and took to the skies, scanning anything and everything for a hint of a trace of a trail. The harsh morning light stabbed her eyes, but she didn’t care. Blinking back tears, she looked for anything- displaced clouds, disrupted thermals, even just a couple of ponies looking up. Nothing. Gilda was gone. “Gilda!” She screamed, adding a kick of weather magic to help her voice carry, “Giiil-da-!” Her voice broke. She tried to inhale, but her lungs didn’t respond. Her barrel quivered, her heart felt like it was in a blender. It was all she could do to force her shaking wings to keep her aloft. Why did she even come here? What was the point? Because Gilda needed my help to remind her just who she is. Hanging in the distance, easily two hundred klicks to the west, little more than a speck on the horizon, the Wonderbolts’ floating academy and main barracks had just about reached its northern apex for the year. On any other day, she would’ve been excited to see the facility. Today, though, a deep sense of dread chilled her to her core. “...and that’s when I flew back home,” Dash concluded. “You flew five-hundred kilometers in four hours? After screaming yourself hoarse.” Twilight asked, incredulously. They sat across from each other at a booth in the stellar, yet unimaginatively-named Hay Burger. She levitated another couple of fries up to her mouth; Dash hadn’t even touched her food, though she’d made short work of her cranberry juice. “Yeah… I didn’t feel like waiting for the train, you know? I just needed to get home.” Her eyes were firmly glued to the table between them. “Do you think she meant anything in that note? Anything we should be concerned about?” Twilight’s mind ran through the possible threats the pissed-off griffon posed. On her own, she wasn’t too dangerous… but she knew things. Things the Society for Lunar-Equestrian Studies was paying good money to acquire. After losing Shutterfly and Trixie, they’d be looking for new help. Operatives? Were they that far-reaching? Snapping back to the present, and seeing her friend quietly suffering in front of her, Twilight tentatively reached out a hoof, and placed it on Dash’s. “Hey. It’s OK. You tried to reach her. You did what you could. It’s on her for- for running like that.” She tried to sound as assuring as possible. She’d been through a bad breakup, herself; she had some inkling of what the pegasus felt. Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with her, first, Twilight silently judged. Traces of jealousy, relief, and schadenfreude swirled in her mind. “...No, she won’t bother us,” Dash muttered. She went silent again, staring down at her hayburger. When she finally looked directly at Twilight, there was a spark behind those piercing cerise eyes of hers, “She’ll have enough problems just staying here, in Equestria. And I’m not going to add to them. We’re not going to add to them.” She left it at that. Taken aback, the scholar stammered out, “Erm, alright. Understood.” An uncomfortable silence settled over them both. Eventually, Dash chimed in, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry about two days ago? I shoulda cut you off after, like, three shots,” She chuckled dryly, “Because you were hammered. You found the water I left you, right?” “Oh, that? Twilight whickered, “No, that was a lot of fun,” She lied; she still felt a dull throbbing right under her horn, the last vestiges of a hangover that felt like the Wrath of Celestia inside her skull. “I didn’t, uh, do anything too embarrassing, did I?” She let out a nervous giggle, “I don’t even remember how I got home from the bar.” The pegasus sat there, fidgeting, for a few seconds, before mumbling, “Nah. I helped walk you home, and you just sorta babbled incoherently.” Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash looked at Twilight. Ask her. Ask her. Just ask her out. “Sooo… I do have a couple more recon missions I need somepony to fly…” Twilight glanced down into her saddlebag at the dozens of drafted flight plans, “But that can wait.” Twilight’s words hung in the air, her thought obviously unfinished. After another awkward moment, Dash replied, “Yeah, sorry, but no thanks. There’s actually some weather crew stuff I’ve been putting off- payroll, scheduling, admin crap.” She let out a single laugh that sounded more like a cough, “You know what that’s like.” She stared down at her now-cold burger again. Just ask her, dammit. “You know… I do. Why... don’t... you come over tomorrow night? Spike can whip us up some dinner, I can help with your reports, we can take a look at these flight plans...” Twilight flashed a wide, forced smile. Then she froze. Was she really doing this? Hitting on Rainbow Dash at her most vulnerable? Wow, classy move there, Doc, she chastised herself. She didn’t want to be pushy, but- “Naw, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dash interrupted her thoughts, “I’ll take a rain check on that dinner, though, word has it Spike can cook.” She grabbed her greasy, congealed burger and finally took a bite, “I’m starting to feel a bit better. I just needed somepony to talk to. You’re a good friend, you know that?” “Hey, no problem. If you need me for anything, I’m right here.” Rainbow Dash took a few more bites of her burger in relative silence, breath whistling through her nostrils, before she choked down a bite, bobbed her head, and asked, confused, “Oh yeah, right. Hey Twi, what’s up with that crashed airship out by the Station?” At long last, Rainbow Dash stumbled through her front door. She felt drained, and a bizarre mix of pride and defeat. She paused; there was a bag of trash, tucked behind a pillar in the entryway. It'd been there for almost a month- she kept meaning to fly it down to the surface on garbage day, but kept forgetting to do so until the day after, so there it sat. She dropped her saddlebags and flew the trash down to her wheelie bin. She flew back up and into her kitchen; while she’d remembered to turn the stove off before she left, there was still that big pot of bloated, overcooked macaroni shells to throw out. Dash swept through the kitchen, rounding up all the various empty packaging littering the place. Nearly a bagful. She grabbed a fresh bag and patrolled the rest of her house. Old soda cups, energy drink cans, and protein shake bottles. A small mountain of junk mail. The pile of foam packing material all her combat gear shipped in. Into the bag it went. Going the extra mile, she broke down and flat-packed all the cardboard boxes, too, for recycling. Another two trips down to the surface. Her wheelie bins were starting to look full, now. Satisfied, she made her way to her bedroom. Clean, warm, safe. She hit the showers for a long, cleansing scrub- one that didn’t require complex aerobatics this time- before finally slipping into bed. She still couldn’t place a toe, a word on what she was feeling. Pain, that was easy. But Gilda really did need a helping hoof. It would’ve hurt far more to find her name in the obituary. Maybe Gilda ditching her like that was just payback for Innsbeak. If so, then, touché. She’d probably never have an answer. But as far as she could tell, she’d done more good than harm. I can live with that. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Dash rolled back out of bed, entered her closet, and dug through the piles of old clothes and battered equipment until she found it. An old hat box she used to store the hoofful of Flight Camp memorabilia she still held onto. She sifted around through the loose papers, patches, and photos, not even sure if she still had it. But at the very bottom of the stack, she found her copy of that one picture. Her and Gilda. The only photo of them together. Holding it in her hoof, she didn’t exactly know what to do next. Tear it to shreds, or frame it, or… She tilted her hoof, and let it slip back into the box. It was safe, there. Buried, but not forgotten. That’s all she needed to know. Rainbow Dash crawled back into bed, and finally, finally drifted off to sleep.
Rainbow ConnectionRainbow Dash woke up in her cloudstuff bed, and was not ready to meet the day. Something felt off. It wasn’t a hangover- those always sucked- but the usual spark to hop out of bed, speed through a shower, and hit the clouds for her morning workout just wasn’t there. Instead, she rolled over and wrapped herself up in her sheets. It was bitter cold, but nothing she hadn’t dealt with on a regular basis. “Eh… w’rk’t c’n wait…” she moaned incomprehensibly. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Her nine o’clock alarm went off; her weather crew shift started in thirty minutes. Normally this would’ve been when she’d return home, take another shower, scarf down some breakfast, then head to work. She wanted to get out of bed. It just wasn’t happening. Maybe working double shifts- her usual cloudbusting, and surveying the Everfree for Twilight’s investigation- was starting to take its toll on her. Maybe she just needed another ten minutes, then she’d get up. Rainbow Dash arrived at her assigned cloud grid almost an hour late. Everypony else on her shift was already working on their respective sectors, rounding up loose cloudstuff and corralling it to the condensation point, just outside of town. She hadn’t had time to shower, so her mane was pressed up against the side of her face. The cold, damp autumn air wasn’t helping. Cloud Kicker nodded at her captain, “Ah, Miss Efficiency finally decided to show up, huh? Gonna work an entire sector in ten seconds flat again?” The others laughed. Rainbow Dash just shuddered, that chill still gnawing at her bones. Her stomach ached, and she couldn’t tell if it was hunger, or nausea. Maybe she was sick, the feather flu or something. Maybe she should see her doctor. Maybe I should just stop. “Uh, you doin’ alright, boss?” Thunderlane asked, at least faking concern, before the crew chief turned back to his sector without waiting for an answer. Dash got to work, rolling up cloud fragments, watching for static charge and ice chunks- nasty little surprises that snuck out from the Everfree Forest’s airspace. Like any other day, Dash had assigned the most dangerous sectors to herself. Her team had gone a full four years without casualties- nopony had died on her watch, either. Just because Dash felt like crap wasn’t any reason to put her crew in danger. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. She was only vaguely aware the others had long since finished their work in this area and had moved onto other assignments. Dash looked down at Ponyville’s large sundial, built for exactly this sort of aerial use. It was barely past noon. “This rutting day…” she muttered to herself. Why am I even up here? “Because the weather crew needs me. I’d never leave a-” her words hitched in her throat. She needed a drink. Berry’s Place was pretty empty, noon on a workday. An older stallion nursing a beer. A young couple necking in the corner over some greasy pub fair. And Rainbow Dash, at the bar, working on her third drink. She’d started off with just a bottle of cider- she still had work to do- but then switched to straight applejack. The drink, not the pony. Two shots wouldn’t be enough to ground her. She had a lot of practice drinking alone. So it came as some small shock when Applejack- the pony, not the drink- trotted in, and made a beeline straight for her. “Ah was worried Ah’d find you in here,” Applejack grunted as she hoisted herself onto an adjacent bar stool, “How many’ve you had?” “Urrr… my third. What’s up, AJ?” Dash replied, putting in the conscious effort to make eye contact. “Ah ain’t seen you so poorly since…” the farmer paused, rubbing her chin, “well, since your lil’ adventure with Twilight ‘n Rarity ‘cross th’ pond.’” Yeah. Dammit AJ, when you’re right, you’re right. Dash just sighed, and finished her shot. “But that was weeks ago. An’ -no ‘ffense- Ah wouldn’t peg you as the type to get lost in recollectin’. So what’s yer trouble?” It took Rainbow Dash a moment to put words to what she was feeling, had been feeling all day. When the words did come, they spilled out all at once, “Aren’t I supposed to, like, embody the Element of Loyalty? What does that even mean? When Twilight went missing, when that cockatrice got her, we just… abandoned her!” Dash swung a wide hoof and knocked over her empty glass, “I could’ve done more. I know I could. I just…” Applejack swiveled on her stool to face Dash directly, and nodded for her to continue. “And the whole cock-up with Gilda, shit! She’s my oldest friend, AJ, I knew her before I met Fluttershy! And I just… and I just left her there on that dingy, rank-ass train platform. She needed help, so what if she was… I dunno, physically incapable of asking for it? I think I’m rutting this up, AJ. I think I’m rutting this up.” The farmer listened, nodded, then chewed her words over before replying, “So what’re ya gonna do about it? ‘Cause Ah doubt the solution’s in th’ bottom of that glass.” Dash looked down at her empty shotglass, rolling around on the bar’s tacky countertop. “Well, not this one.” Applejack straightened up to her full height- normally a bit taller than Dash, but now a full head taller than the slouching pegasus, “Persephone’s pusillanimous pucker, RD! Ah can’t help you with Gilda, but th’ least you c’n do is, Ah dunno, go talk to Twilight? Last Ah saw, she’s hunkered down at the library.” The farmer’s voice never rose above casual conversation volume, but the sheer intensity drove the weatherworker to lean away in her stool. “Notus’s balls, AJ, breaking out the five-bit words already?” Dash chuckled mirthlessly, as she steadied herself. “Well, Ah ain’t often given to bouts of sesquip’dalious loquaciousn’ss… but Ah’d be a shitty friend if Ah didn’t warm you up ‘fer yer talk with Professor Sparkle,” Applejack grinned, lowering her hat to just cover her eyes. “Hmmrf. She’s just Dr. Sparkle, there’s a difference.” Dash muttered. Then she sat up straight, herself, “Ask me how I know that.” Applejack slid off her stool, and started ambling towards the door, “Ah stand corrected. See’ya ‘round.” And with that, she was gone. Dash sat there for a few more minutes, before digging through her saddlebag for a wingful of bits, paying her tab, and heading out. On her way to the library, she looked up at an unsettlingly dense patch of off-white clouds, ripe for converging into a minor stormcloud right over town square. The faint flicker of a lightning bolt roiled around inside, ready to strike in about an hour. She didn’t even need to see the gridzone designations, this was one of her sectors for the day. I never leave a pony hanging. Three drinks sloshing around her brain was nothing for Rainbow Dash; launching into a textbook acceleration arc, she climbed to cloud level, busted her sector, and was done with a two-hour work detail in just under five minutes. Feeling more than a little better, she glided the rest of the way to the library’s big landing balcony, already considering what she might say. Rainbow Dash landed, a gnawing uncertainty still eating away at her. She paused, took in a few quick, deep breaths, then opened the door. The little doorbell jingled to announce her presence as she looked down into the main room. This still being the public library, Twilight usually kept the area clear of her ever-encroaching wall of paperwork- at least during business hours. Today was not one of those days. Virtually every horizontal surface was covered in graphs, charts, and more than a few textbooks and binders. Dash even recognized a few of her own surveying maps, next to or superimposed over radion heatmaps collected by the Lapwing. “Hello? Sorry about the mess,” Twilight called up from inside her office. “Give me… one second… and I can help you find what you’re looking for-“ her voice got louder and clearer as she left the confines of her office, eventually looking up to see Rainbow Dash hovering awkwardly over the parchment sea. “Oh! Rainbow Dash, need something?” “Uh, yeah, do you have a minute? There’s something I’d like to talk about.” Dash tried to project confidence, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was working. The scholar looked around for a clear spot for her friend to land. There was none. “Step into my office…?” Twilight craned her neck over her shoulder, grimaced, then muttered, “Never mind, I’ll meet you up there.” In a magenta snap she was standing next to Dash, up on the balcony. Her expression shifted, just a bit, when she saw the pegasus up close. “Is something bothering you?” she asked. Rainbow Dash sucked in air, then she began, “I want to apologize, Twilight. I’ve kind of been… err… not been doing the best job I can do.” Twilight cocked her head, confused, but didn’t interrupt. “Just… I dropped the ball when you got stoned by that cockatrice, I- I know there was more I could’ve done to help find you, or help Spike, or Marigold, or Fluttershy. I could’ve flown more recon missions, I could’ve actually helped track that thing, I…” This time, Twilight did interrupt and tried to give her friend a small, warm smile, “You did the best you could, Dash. I studied the space bubble the cockatrice was using as its lair; you could’ve flown over it a hundred times, with a full scanning suite, without ever knowing it was there. And I do know you were there with Dr. Daycaller when his scrying solution failed.” She tentatively reached out a hoof, and placed it on her friend’s shoulder, “Tell you what. How about you buy me a drink, and we’ll call it even?” “Back so soon?” Berry quipped from behind the bar, as Dash and Twilight trotted in. “You know it. Two whiskeys, neat.” Dash sidled up to the bar, and Twilight awkwardly followed. Dash could tell the egghead wasn’t big on the whole nightlife scene- at least, not as she’d describe it. Pouring over ancient texts until sunrise wasn’t exactly what the pegasus would call an exciting evening. And yet, as soon as Berry brought their drinks over, and Twilight took her first sip, she started talking. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Two shots became four, became eight, became twelve. Rainbow Dash didn’t understand half the words coming out of Twilight’s mouth, but she could follow the flow, the gist of the lecture, even through the technobabble. Something about how sixth-, seventh-, and ninth- dimensional scans wouldn’t have detected that space bubble, even if deployed right on top of it. Dash pulled her perception back for a second; she didn’t know all the concepts Twilight was explaining, but she did understand Twilight did. And as one technical expert to another, she respected that. It also sounded like Twilight didn’t get to talk about her field of study all that often. More to the point, Dash understood Twilight wasn’t getting all the respect she deserved. She knew that feeling. It sucked. Well, Twilight’s a good friend. At least I respect her. It was a shame she couldn’t hold her liquor, though. Six drinks in- well, nine total, today- and Dash was still ready for prime time, while Twilight was wobbling on her stool like a bent weathervane in a tropical storm. Twilight needed this, and she hadn’t even known it until Rainbow Dash landed on her balcony, proverbial hat in hoof. She still didn’t fully understand Dash’s guilt, but the cost of a few drinks and letting Twilight chat her ear off for a bit seemed like a small enough price to make her pay. Twilight steadied herself on her barstool; she wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but she really didn’t drink that often, either. She wasn’t a fan of drinking alone, Spike couldn’t drink, and after Lyra moved away and their Ogres & Oubliettes group broke up, there wasn’t even that excuse. Her expression soured for a moment, but she shook her head. No, she was having a good time, and she would not let Minuette and her fundamental inability to show up on time bring her down. Six shots of booze on an empty stomach, though, and she was really starting to feel the buzz. That was OK. Higher-dimension edge detection of folded liminal spaces was a key focus in her master’s thesis, and she could talk about this, and this whole space bubble nonsense, in her sleep. She might’ve had to, when the floor pulled a particularly crafty spin that left her clutching her barstool with all four hooves. Was she supposed to spin with the room, or against it? Right when she felt she had it under control, Rainbow Dash reached a hoof out to steady her. She leaned into it, and into Dash. Close enough to pick up the sharp scent of lightning in her coat. A whiff of alcohol on her breath. Just a hint of sweat. It wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it wasn’t bad, either. Twilight exhaled, and pushed herself back upright, finding herself staring into Dash’s eyes. Her brilliant, piercing cerise eyes. Did she always have such beautiful eyes? And her mane, the way it cascaded down her neck, the light glinting off each spectral step. No, if she had to put a toe on it, it was those wings; the delicate, elegant feathers, and the taut, corded flight muscles that rippled each time they moved. She had to admit, it was always a treat anytime she could watch the chief weathermare at work; it was like she owned the skies. Twilight’s breath hitched in her throat- though that might’ve been a hiccup. Ask her out. Ask her. Just ask her. Twilight’s mind spun faster than the room. Good thing she had a big strong pegasus propping her up. Ask her. Ask her. Kiss her? Rainbow Dash had to hang onto Twilight with two hooves and a wing, now. If she’d known the scrawny unicorn was going to get this shitfaced, she never would’ve ordered that last round. Honest. She stared into Twilight’s unfocused eyes, and asked, “Are you ok? Do you need me to walk you back home?” Twilight pitched forward again, opened her mouth, and belched, before collapsing into Dash’s shoulder. “Haha, nice! I felt that in my tail.” Dash clapped a hoof into Twilight’s back. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” As carefully as possible, Dash extricated herself from the bundle of noodly limbs her friend had become, slipped off her bar stool, then lowered Twilight onto her back in a firemare’s carry. Her own hooves felt like stone. Tingly, cloudstuff stone. Maybe a bottle of cider with an eight-shot chaser was beginning to stress even her tolerances. It definitely gave her a buzz. But hey, she was Rainbow Dash, and she never left a pony hanging. She sucked in a few deep breaths, then lugged her friend outside, down as many back alleys and lesser-traveled streets as possible, back to the Golden Oak under a beautiful autumn sunset. Shouldering the door open, she tried as best she could to avoid stepping on any important paperwork- an impossible task- as she wormed her way back to the stairwell leading up to the bedroom loft. “Still with us, Twilight?” She asked over her shoulder. “Yesszz I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Twilight slurred back. “Alright, let’s get you into bed, ruggin’ lightweight,” Dash chuckled. Twilight mumbled something in reply, but she couldn’t make it out. Eventually, they reached Twilight’s bed- neatly made, of course- and Dash rolled the drunken scholar onto the comforter. She frowned, expecting Twilight to finish crawling into bed, or stand up, or do something. Instead, she just laid there, looking up at her. “I sssaid, it’d be nice if yooou would join me…” Twilight muttered, before flopping over onto her side. Eventually her breathing slowed to an even, quiet snore. While it wasn’t the most uncomfortable Rainbow Dash had been, she still found it very awkward. Her dock clamped down, reflexively, and all she could do was whisper, “I’ll be right back with some water, it’ll cut down on the hangover,” before taking to the air and heading downstairs as quietly as she could. In the surprisingly well-stocked kitchen, she eventually found which cabinet held the glasses- she swore, it was like each and every kitchen made a game of hiding what went where- filled one with water, then froze. She’d have to fly this up to Twilight and her… proposition. “Dang, Twilight must be drunker than I thought,” she said to the empty room, “She… has to know I like stallions, right? That’s not a secret or anything.” She pivoted and paced around the kitchen, glass held absently in her wing, “I mean, I guess I might double up with a mare, you know, if there’s also a stallion.” She laughed nervously- unsure why- as she continued her hypothetical, “Like, I wouldn’t turn down, say, Soarin, if Spitfire was also there.” She stopped, as her shoulders drooped, “Ah, who am I kidding, that’s never gonna happen.” Dash stood in the empty kitchen for a solid minute, fidgeting in silence, before concluding, “Daagh, buck up. Think of it this way, me: I’m Rainbow Dash, I’m so awesome even the mares want me.” With that, she headed back upstairs. “Uh, hey, Twilight? I’ve got your water,” she called out. There was no reply. Tentatively peaking over the edge of the loft, she found Twilight still passed out in a drunken stupor, hanging over the side of her bed. Thank Boreas for small miracles. She dropped the glass off on the bedside table, then went to work rolling Twilight back into bed, getting her situated under the covers, and- most importantly- leaning her on her side, so that if she vomited, she wouldn’t drown. Surveying her work, she nodded, satisfied, and left for home. “Note to self,” she muttered, “Twilight is a terrible drinking buddy.” Later that evening, as she stood in her own kitchen and watched her pot of macaroni slowly boil, Rainbow Dash made up her mind. “Well… that worked out pretty well… Notus’s breath, fine, I’ll see if I can track down Gilda.” Leaving her noodles to cook on their own, she dug through the sizeable heap of old bills, paystubs, and the dozens of cards her parents had mailed her this year, until she found the reply letter she’d gotten from Gilda, as part of setting up their- no, Twilight’s- expedition. There she found the return address- the old one she remembered was wrong, and only by the grace of the Equestrian Postal Service had her initial letter been delivered at all. Scrivener’s Tower, Suite 103, Rainbow Falls. The irony was not lost on Dash. Dinner completely forgotten, she dove into the equally-massive heap of takeout menus, lawn care ads, and HOA notices to find her copy of the train schedule. Better safe than sorry, she also dredged up her overnight bag- basically just a toiletry kit- and stuffed that into her saddlebags, too. She'd head out tomorrow.
Happy Drunk, Angry DrunkIt was a six-hour train ride from Ponyville to Rainbow Falls. Dash had planned on taking the three PM train, but when five AM ticked by and she still hadn’t slept a wink, she’d elected to take the morning train instead. That was a mistake. Her mind was simultaneously racing, and stuck in a sluggish morass. Her left hindleg jittered uncontrollably with nervous energy, while her eyes could barely focus. A mild hangover from yesterday’s twin trips to the bar weren’t doing her any favors either; she’d even ignored her own advice and forgot to push fluids, like a stupid teenager raiding her parents’ liquor cabinet. Stupid. That about summed this day up, and it was barely past noon. She was five hours into her six-hour ride, and she didn’t know what to say past ‘Hey, Gil.’ She rubbed her hooves into her gritty eyes, snagged herself another cup of Equestrian Rail tea, and forced herself to think. What did she want? How did she see this ending? What would patching things up with Gilda even look like? In a perfect world, they’d both head back to Ponyville together, she’d convince Twilight to put Gilda on the work schedule, and… profit? Dash was too addle-brained to plan that far. On the other hoof, the worst-case scenario- getting into a drunken brawl and beating the stuffing out of each other- would at least bring some closure. Her chest felt tight. Her nostrils flared as she tried to suck in air- deep, slow breaths to calm herself down. It didn’t work. She felt…fragile. Like she was about to cry. And that only made her frustrated. What is this shit, am I on my period? “Uuuuurrrrrgh…” she sighed, slumping in her seat, “get it together, asshole.” The next hour passed in excruciating silence. For the life of her, she couldn’t get it together. Even before the train pulled into Rainbow Falls’ single platform, Rainbow Dash could see the massive construction project off in the distance; a colossal lakeside cloud stadium, built around the largest industrial waste dump she’d ever seen. As objectively pretty as the cascading streams of rainbow runoff were to look at, Dash could feel her lungs shriveling up already. To anypony not familiar with weatherwork, it probably seemed above-board, too. “Ugh, and it’s aerosolizing too, gross!” she muttered, “… I guess Gilda wasn’t lying, this really is the worst work detail in Equestria.” It still beats Innsbeak... A candle in the back of her mind lit up: this stadium was slated to hold the next Equestria Games, right? Stepping off, she took to the air to try and find the construction offices. Maybe the foremare, or manager, or somepony could tell her where Gilda was. Feeling the tingly, electric burn of the prismatic spray starting to coat her wings, she dipped down to ground level as soon as she spotted a cluster of expandables and trailers just inside the site’s chain-link fence. Everywhere below her, the workers- mostly donkeys, but a sizable number were griffons, with more than a few minotaurs and goats in the mix- went about their business wearing cheap cloth respirators. With practiced smoothness that belayed her exhaustion, she touched down and opened the door to what she hoped was the main office, all in one fluid motion. Inside, a dozen ponies sat at their desks, blueprints and paperwork and drafting supplies semi-neatly scattered everywhere. A bespectacled mare seated behind what passed as the receptionist’s desk greeted her, “Uh, hello? Do you have an appointment? Are you supposed to be here?” Dash cantered up to the desk, and asked, “Hey, sorry, I’m looking for a… Gilda? She’s a griffon, she’s one of your employees?” She noted the receptionist’s respirator sat, unused, off to the side. The secretary’s ears pinned back, but she kept her voice level, “Any and all complaints about our contractors’ behavior should be filed with local law enforcement. Mighty Minotaur Construction LLC cannot be held liable for what its contractors do in their time off.” Dash cocked her head, “No no, I’m just looking for her.” Realizing it would’ve been easier to just go to Gilda’s apartment and wait, she tried to backpedal, when a gruff, sharply-dressed stallion stubbed out his cigarette and grumbled, “Gilda? She don’ work here no more. First she failed to properly requisition fer time off, then she came back unfit fer work. Then she shows up drunk,” He drew a fresh cigarette from his pack, lit it up, then concluded with a wicked grin, “So we bumped her from 1099 to W-2, then fired that turkey for cause, ‘bout two weeks back.” “So… you wouldn’t know where she is?” Dash asked. “Try th’ bar.” Rainbow Dash circled the town of Rainbow Falls in a wide, lazy arc. There wasn’t much to it: a couple streets, some long-abandoned carriage-making facilities, a few bars, and a single apartment complex; all bathed in a sickly rainbow-hued film, and lit orange by the autumn afternoon sun. She couldn’t tell if the toxic waste dump killed the town, or if Cloudsdale Weatherworks specifically chose this hollowed-out industrial husk as its dumping ground because it was already dead. Maybe it was both. The Springsteed music practically played itself. Dash struck out with the first three bars- each a grizzly affair where she got the clear sense she was intruding on the locals- and was about to give up hope as she approached the fourth and last watering hole. She was so exhausted, she didn’t piece together the clatter and scraping of hooves on hardwood right behind the door until it flung open violently, nailing her square in the muzzle. She certainly wasn’t expecting to be hit by a semi-conscious Gilda as she was tossed unceremoniously into the street, either, but the trio of donkeys inside must not've seen Dash standing there. Rainbow Dash scrambled to her hooves, adrenaline forcing her tired brain to focus on the coming fight- only for the patrons to shrug and head back inside, and for Gilda to flop around on the ground, eerily quiet. She ducked down and, careful of Gilda’s flailing limbs, she tried to help her friend at least roll upright. Her caution paid off as Gilda made a feeble attempt to rake her with her paws, slurring a barely coherent, “Gedoffa me yoo squirrely fucks, I’ll teach you t’stand still…” “Gil, it’s me. Rainbow Dash. I came back. I…” she trailed off, still unsure of what to say. Doubly so to an utterly sloshed, blindly belligerent bundle of sharp-tipped limbs. Gilda’s eyes focused, just a bit, on the mare standing over her. “Dashie? ‘Zzzat you? What’re you- HURP” She didn’t get to finish that sentence, as she wretched and dry-heaved herself into doubling over and curling up into a ball. Rainbow Dash could barely contain her disgust, though it was tempered by a healthy dose of pity. She’d been here before, more than once. “Gil… what the rut…” was all she could muster. After a minute, Gilda finally rallied enough to roll onto her stomach, legs mostly under her, though it looked like standing up was going to be a tall order. “Heeeey… m-my apardmend’s near here, we should h-urp-hang out.” With titanic effort, the drunk griffon rose to her feet, swayed hard to the left, but remained upright, “Yeah, issss nearby.” And with that, she slunk off down the road, head and wings bobbing like yoyos with each step. Dash paced along beside her, doing her best to prop her up whenever she started listing. “Uh, yeah, why not.” Gilda’s pace slowed, and she yawned- a big, catlike yawn that filled the air with the stench of cheap hooch- before grumbling, “I’m tired, RD.” For the second time in as many days, it fell on Dash to put one of her drunk friends to bed. She craned her neck and saw the optimistically-named Scrivener’s Tower- a three-story array of cheap-looking apartments that did indeed tower over the otherwise flat town. “It’s ok, Gil, we’re almost there. You’re in 103, right?” Gilda mumbled something incoherent as she dug through her feathers, eventually withdrawing a key. The fob confirmed the room number. Dash took the key, and did her best to hold Gilda’s wing over her back, to help share the weight. Gilda yowled and swiped absently with her talons; Dash remembering a bit too late that that was Gilda’s injured wing. “Shit, sorry. C’mon, I can see it, just a bit further.” Gilda just stared at the cracked asphalt road beneath her. “Hey, RD, you know what I love?” Dash shook her head, and kept trying to coax Gilda forward. “What do you love?” She played along. “I love my bed. I spent… ten… hundred… I spent so many bits on my bed. It’s all I’ve got.” She finally looked up, staring at Dash with hollow, vacant eyes, “It’s all I’ve got left.” It chilled Rainbow Dash to the bone. She did this to Gilda. She reached out and asked for her help. What a fantastic friend she’d turned out to be. “Shit… made m-myself sad again…” Gilda mumbled, “I know. I got- god- godda- ‘ey gottem!’” she interrupted herself, “got a joke. What was…. Right!” With purpose, she asked, “Hey Rainbow Dash: what’s the dif- no, what’ll- what- what does light beer have in common with ffff-sex on a boat?” Dash blinked, dumbfounded, and replied with a flat “What.” “They’re both ffffuckin’ close ta water! Ha!” She giggled, then chuckled, snorted, and threw her head back in a full-on guffaw, letting loose a deep belly laugh Rainbow Dash had never heard from Gilda before. “Gilda…” Dash chided, “That’s a Surprise-level joke, dang.” “Hey! Heey! Heeeey!” Gilda whined, “What did- that was unf- un-fuckin-called for.” The smell hit Dash before she even got the door open. Shoulder-checking through the carpet of empty cans, bottles, and fast-food wrappers, she found herself staring at an absolutely squalid single-room apartment. Rancid gyro meat, skunked beer, and a distinct, sickeningly-sweet floral smell she could only hope was cider assaulted her in waves. “Gah! Four Winds, what is that stench, Gil?” “Isss fuckin’- fuck- fffuuu-“ Gilda burbled. “It’s ruttin’ what.” Dash snapped. “Seeeex…” The griffon belched, sliding to the floor. All Dash could do was stare. “…Damn, G.” It was a messy task wrestling the half-conscious griffon into the only clean place in the room- her nest. Dash had to admit, it was a very nice nest. Free-hanging cloud-lined, climate-controlled, self-cleaning… and was that a massage function? Queen-size, too, and Gilda barely took up half of it. It dawned on Rainbow Dash that she’d been awake for over thirty hours, so far. That nest looked inviting, and she knew a thing or two about the importance of a quality bed after doing hard labor all day. “Uuuurgh…” Gilda groaned, “If you’re expecting a ‘thank you,’ you can go fuck yourself.” “Gil… I’m here because I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Dash explained, as evenly as she could wrangle her voice, “I left you behind. You don’t- ok, you didn’t exactly need my help… but you needed a friend. And I left you behind.” She sighed, and looked for any change in Gilda; her head hung limp over the side of her nest. “But I’m here now. I’m here now, Gil.” She waited for a response, her heart racing, wings tense. “Fuck. You. Dash.” Gilda spat out, head still drooped, beak almost touching the floor. “Yeah yeah-“ “I said fuck you, Dash!” She looked up this time, eyes rimmed red with tears, “Fuck you and your purple dweeb boss!” “Hey, let’s leave Twilight outta-“ Dash took a step back, defensively. “Fuck you!” The griffon shouted, finally managing to prop herself up on her talons, leaning into each word, “Fuck you for ever helping me!” “Gil, you can’t mean tha-“ Dash tried to admonish. “Fuck! You! For making me think I’d ever be more than worthless gutter-trash! Fuck you!” She howled, tears streaming down her face, lightning crackling through her wings, “Fuck you! Fuuuuuuuuck yoooooooou!” And with that, the griffon was spent. Her forelegs collapsed out from under her, and her beak clonked against the bed frame on the way down. Even the crying stopped. Dash stood there, fight-or-flight instinct paralyzed. If she were Fluttershy, or Rarity, or even Twilight, she might’ve known what to say, anything to say. This wasn’t something she could solve by flying fast, kicking hard, and making it look easy. Eventually, Gilda’s eyes tracked the pegasus, and she weakly spoke, between breaths, “Every time I make myself a cozy little seat in the clouds, I have to look down. Sometimes, I jump.” She swallowed hard, “Just a quick, one-stroke power dive, just like they taught us, and the ground rushes up at me.” Her breath hitched in her throat, “Sometimes, I close my eyes. The wind in my crest. The sun on my face. Gravity doing the job for me." She was quiet for a moment, "But my wings always spread, I always pull up. I'm not sure why." Rainbow Dash was horrified. Her exhausted mind raced, trying to think of anything to say to her friend. "It- it can't be that bad-" "Dash, you're a pony." Gilda's voice trembled, barely audible between breaths, "You lose your job, that sucks. I lose my job, I get deported. It'll happen any day now. You saw Innsbeak. You saw how bad it was. Griffonstone is worse." A sob shook her body, "And that's where I'm going." One memory finally emerged, early on in Flight Camp, when Gilda taught her a few common phrases. “’Peidiwch a gwyllto. Dialwch.’” She said, in undoubtedly butchered Griffish- seriously, why is ‘w’ a vowel? Gilda cocked her head, “’Don’t get hungry, revenge?’ OH!” It was a phrase every griffon knew, and even in her inebriated state she could tell what Dash was trying to say, “Don’t get mad. Get even.” She blinked, the whiskey-soaked cogs in her brain slowly but steadily trying to figure out what Dash meant by it. “…Gil, I heard you. If it’ll make you feel any better… I’m right here.” Dash rocked back on her hindlegs, bracing for a brawl. “Hey, shut up. For once, you’re right. I just need to- need-“ She slumped over in her bed, then curled up into a tight little ball, “Need to get some sleep. Revenge can wait ‘til morning… lousy stupid sun-damned supportive friend…” She was out like a light, filling the air with vodka-scented snoring. All at once, the adrenaline drained from Rainbow Dash’s body. Thirty hours no sleep… and that was one mighty fine nest in front of her. There was still an open half. Zephyrus’s warmth, there was even a second pillow. She glanced over at Gilda. Yep, she’ll be out ‘til morning. Dash took a moment to survey the room one more time; on the bedside table sat a small, framed picture. An adolescent Gilda and Rainbow Dash smiled and waved at the camera, having just passed their dreaded partial-pressure humidity written exam. She sighed, “Well, fuck me. This doesn’t count, Hoops!” As she pitched forward and passed the rut out.
Still No Regrets, Rainbow Dash?Rainbow Dash felt the wind whistling through her wings, smelled the sharp bite of ozone, and heard the soft patter of rain falling from the clouds below. She soared as high as her little wings could carry her, desperate to gain altitude before she could even attempt her power dive. Hot on her tail, Hoops and Dumb-Bell heaved and panted, trying to keep pace with the younger, faster filly. But this was her moment. Somepony had to put those meatheads in their place. For Gilda. For Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash was about to do the impossible- Dash was rudely awakened by the rusty metal screech of the shower shutting off. Gilda’s voice, oddly soft and soulful, carried into the bedroom, “...I work and breathe among the fumes that trail across the sky. There’s thunder all around me, and there’s poison in the air… hmm-hmm-” The singing stopped abruptly, replaced by the telltale wplplplplpl of Gilda shaking herself dry. “Shower’s free, if you wanna wash that rainbow shit outta your crest…” The griffon called out, as she padded around the corner. Gilda looked at Dash, sprawled out on her bed. Dash looked at Gilda, still dripping wet from her shower. After a tense moment, Gilda just laughed, “Hahahaaa… I bet Dumb-ass would trade his left nut to see this.” Instantly, Dash felt a little more at ease, “Yeah, shit. Just ‘cause we turned them down for the Funnelcloud Formal, what, that’s all the proof they need we’re a couple clam-bakers? Fuck those douchebags…” A pensive energy still filled the room, as Dash waited for the last horseshoe to drop. “Yeah…” Gilda sighed, “So anyway, there’s a single restaurant in this dirtpile of a town that serves meat- and it’s a gyro place. When you’re done in there,” She nodded towards the bathroom, “How about I buy you a beer? Hope you like Clyde Light, or Dos Equinas.” Rainbow Dash felt her guard creeping back up. Gilda and generosity rarely mixed; and there was an air of finality in her words that felt less like comradery, and more like a last request. “Uh, yeah, sure…” She said, cautiously, “And then, maybe we can talk about what you want to do next?” A flash of anger flickered over Gilda’s face as she spat out, “What’s the point? I got fired for cause, nopony’ll hire me! Four Winds, you can’t even fire contractors, unless they…” she locked up, “...those extra signatures. What the-” she spun around in place, eyes wide- “were those my W-4 and I-9? Did they really take the extra time and paperwork just to fuck me over?” “Gil! Gil…” Dash tried to get her attention; once the griffon finally stopped pacing, she continued, “Gil, I made this offer in Innsbeak, and I’m making it again. The Ponyville weather team could use another set of wings. Part time, and the pay’s not great, but the cost of living’s also pretty cheap. There’s, uh,” Dash tried to remember what all went into the new employees’ packet, “decent PTO, and a retirement plan. You say nopony’ll hire you? Well I’m co-captain. The job is yours, if you want it.” She left the stay of deportation merely implied. Gilda’s stare pierced right through her, but she replied in an even voice, “Yeah sounds good. Take your shower, then let’s go.” Dash rolled out of bed, and immediately stepped in something cold and gooey. She looked down in horror at the white paste coating her hoof- and felt a wave of relief when she noticed the black plastic container. Tzatziki sauce, for the gyros. Which she’d just stepped in. “Yech… yeah, I’ll be out in a bit.” She delicately hopped towards the bathroom, trying her best not to do even more damage to the ruined carpet. Her efforts were rewarded with the sight of a truly disgusting bathroom. A fine layer of wet, tawny hair coated everything; preened feathers clogged the shower drain, an orange soapscum film covered the rest of the basin; and both sinks had small puddles of booze-reeking puke congealing away in them. She took a second to, out loud, thank the Four Winds this was one of those bathrooms with the weird separate room for the toilet; she’d hold it all the way back to Ponyville before she dared poke her muzzle in there. Gilda must’ve heard her, as she called in, “Oh hey, sorry, I wasn’t really expecting guests?” Dash swallowed hard, and quietly weighed her options: she could just not, and risk… what, scalp cancer? The rainbow runoff could be decorative, like the fountains at her house, but it just as easily could’ve already sterilized her. Or, she could buck up, take flight, and do her business without ever touching that disgusting- oh that wasn’t a floor mat. “UGGGGGH!” She groaned, “No, it’s fine, I’ve seen worse,” In a horror flick, she thought. Gilda was normally pretty messy, but Dash had to hope this level of filth was a recent development. Taking a shower without touching anything turned out to be a challenge, but Rainbow Dash was no stranger to flying under adverse conditions. She hovered under the just-less-than-scalding hot water, scrubbing vigorously at her mane to dislodge the iridescent, oily industrial residue. Snippets of Gilda’s voice carried over the sound the water, “…and it’s go, griffs, go, they’ll time your every breath, and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death…” What should’ve been a five-minute rinse turned into twenty minutes of terror, but she got it done. She glided out of that waking nightmare- only to find the apartment empty. “Gil?” She called out, “Sorry that took so long. Are you-” She drifted a bit further into the room, and noticed a scrap of parchment replacing the photo on the side table. Curious, she flapped over and read it. Dash, I guess I owe you a beer, but I can’t take your offer. What you said last night got me thinking, but I realized just now how bad it is. I could spend the last of my bits drinking myself to death, I could follow you back to Lamesville and work for Purplebitch Twilight Or I could do something that matters. I’m not the only grif non-pony getting fucked out here. Flight camp, the Weather Factory all four service Academies there all bullshit. If somepony wont fix it, somegriff might. Don’t get mad. Get even. Thanks for reminding me, G Rainbow Dash crashed through the apartment door and took to the skies, scanning anything and everything for a hint of a trace of a trail. The harsh morning light stabbed her eyes, but she didn’t care. Blinking back tears, she looked for anything- displaced clouds, disrupted thermals, even just a couple of ponies looking up. Nothing. Gilda was gone. “Gilda!” She screamed, adding a kick of weather magic to help her voice carry, “Giiil-da-!” Her voice broke. She tried to inhale, but her lungs didn’t respond. Her barrel quivered, her heart felt like it was in a blender. It was all she could do to force her shaking wings to keep her aloft. Why did she even come here? What was the point? Because Gilda needed my help to remind her just who she is. Hanging in the distance, easily two hundred klicks to the west, little more than a speck on the horizon, the Wonderbolts’ floating academy and main barracks had just about reached its northern apex for the year. On any other day, she would’ve been excited to see the facility. Today, though, a deep sense of dread chilled her to her core. “...and that’s when I flew back home,” Dash concluded. “You flew five-hundred kilometers in four hours? After screaming yourself hoarse.” Twilight asked, incredulously. They sat across from each other at a booth in the stellar, yet unimaginatively-named Hay Burger. She levitated another couple of fries up to her mouth; Dash hadn’t even touched her food, though she’d made short work of her cranberry juice. “Yeah… I didn’t feel like waiting for the train, you know? I just needed to get home.” Her eyes were firmly glued to the table between them. “Do you think she meant anything in that note? Anything we should be concerned about?” Twilight’s mind ran through the possible threats the pissed-off griffon posed. On her own, she wasn’t too dangerous… but she knew things. Things the Society for Lunar-Equestrian Studies was paying good money to acquire. After losing Shutterfly and Trixie, they’d be looking for new help. Operatives? Were they that far-reaching? Snapping back to the present, and seeing her friend quietly suffering in front of her, Twilight tentatively reached out a hoof, and placed it on Dash’s. “Hey. It’s OK. You tried to reach her. You did what you could. It’s on her for- for running like that.” She tried to sound as assuring as possible. She’d been through a bad breakup, herself; she had some inkling of what the pegasus felt. Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with her, first, Twilight silently judged. Traces of jealousy, relief, and schadenfreude swirled in her mind. “...No, she won’t bother us,” Dash muttered. She went silent again, staring down at her hayburger. When she finally looked directly at Twilight, there was a spark behind those piercing cerise eyes of hers, “She’ll have enough problems just staying here, in Equestria. And I’m not going to add to them. We’re not going to add to them.” She left it at that. Taken aback, the scholar stammered out, “Erm, alright. Understood.” An uncomfortable silence settled over them both. Eventually, Dash chimed in, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry about two days ago? I shoulda cut you off after, like, three shots,” She chuckled dryly, “Because you were hammered. You found the water I left you, right?” “Oh, that? Twilight whickered, “No, that was a lot of fun,” She lied; she still felt a dull throbbing right under her horn, the last vestiges of a hangover that felt like the Wrath of Celestia inside her skull. “I didn’t, uh, do anything too embarrassing, did I?” She let out a nervous giggle, “I don’t even remember how I got home from the bar.” The pegasus sat there, fidgeting, for a few seconds, before mumbling, “Nah. I helped walk you home, and you just sorta babbled incoherently.” Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash looked at Twilight. Ask her. Ask her. Just ask her out. “Sooo… I do have a couple more recon missions I need somepony to fly…” Twilight glanced down into her saddlebag at the dozens of drafted flight plans, “But that can wait.” Twilight’s words hung in the air, her thought obviously unfinished. After another awkward moment, Dash replied, “Yeah, sorry, but no thanks. There’s actually some weather crew stuff I’ve been putting off- payroll, scheduling, admin crap.” She let out a single laugh that sounded more like a cough, “You know what that’s like.” She stared down at her now-cold burger again. Just ask her, dammit. “You know… I do. Why... don’t... you come over tomorrow night? Spike can whip us up some dinner, I can help with your reports, we can take a look at these flight plans...” Twilight flashed a wide, forced smile. Then she froze. Was she really doing this? Hitting on Rainbow Dash at her most vulnerable? Wow, classy move there, Doc, she chastised herself. She didn’t want to be pushy, but- “Naw, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dash interrupted her thoughts, “I’ll take a rain check on that dinner, though, word has it Spike can cook.” She grabbed her greasy, congealed burger and finally took a bite, “I’m starting to feel a bit better. I just needed somepony to talk to. You’re a good friend, you know that?” “Hey, no problem. If you need me for anything, I’m right here.” Rainbow Dash took a few more bites of her burger in relative silence, breath whistling through her nostrils, before she choked down a bite, bobbed her head, and asked, confused, “Oh yeah, right. Hey Twi, what’s up with that crashed airship out by the Station?” At long last, Rainbow Dash stumbled through her front door. She felt drained, and a bizarre mix of pride and defeat. She paused; there was a bag of trash, tucked behind a pillar in the entryway. It'd been there for almost a month- she kept meaning to fly it down to the surface on garbage day, but kept forgetting to do so until the day after, so there it sat. She dropped her saddlebags and flew the trash down to her wheelie bin. She flew back up and into her kitchen; while she’d remembered to turn the stove off before she left, there was still that big pot of bloated, overcooked macaroni shells to throw out. Dash swept through the kitchen, rounding up all the various empty packaging littering the place. Nearly a bagful. She grabbed a fresh bag and patrolled the rest of her house. Old soda cups, energy drink cans, and protein shake bottles. A small mountain of junk mail. The pile of foam packing material all her combat gear shipped in. Into the bag it went. Going the extra mile, she broke down and flat-packed all the cardboard boxes, too, for recycling. Another two trips down to the surface. Her wheelie bins were starting to look full, now. Satisfied, she made her way to her bedroom. Clean, warm, safe. She hit the showers for a long, cleansing scrub- one that didn’t require complex aerobatics this time- before finally slipping into bed. She still couldn’t place a toe, a word on what she was feeling. Pain, that was easy. But Gilda really did need a helping hoof. It would’ve hurt far more to find her name in the obituary. Maybe Gilda ditching her like that was just payback for Innsbeak. If so, then, touché. She’d probably never have an answer. But as far as she could tell, she’d done more good than harm. I can live with that. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Dash rolled back out of bed, entered her closet, and dug through the piles of old clothes and battered equipment until she found it. An old hat box she used to store the hoofful of Flight Camp memorabilia she still held onto. She sifted around through the loose papers, patches, and photos, not even sure if she still had it. But at the very bottom of the stack, she found her copy of that one picture. Her and Gilda. The only photo of them together. Holding it in her hoof, she didn’t exactly know what to do next. Tear it to shreds, or frame it, or… She tilted her hoof, and let it slip back into the box. It was safe, there. Buried, but not forgotten. That’s all she needed to know. Rainbow Dash crawled back into bed, and finally, finally drifted off to sleep.
