A Dash of Inspiration

Rainbow Dash immediately stood up and looked at the poster, not able to believe her eyes. To Dash’s horror, her sight had been true. The poster had a picture of Scootaloo and gave a short description below it, with a promise of a cash reward for any helpful information. Rainbow Dash felt as though the entire world was making less and less sense.
What? Did she run away? Why would she-
The world fell out from underneath Dash.
Oh stars and stones, she’s blaming herself for what happened!
Dash’s concern and confusion were now joined by guilt, hitting her gut as surely as a cannonball. Her thoughts immediately formed a chorus of worries and blame, the former directed at Scootaloo, the latter at herself. Dash’s pulse was racing, and she felt flushed with panic. Where could the filly have gone?

Dash’s knees felt weak, her mind filling itself with hellish visions: Scootaloo calling out for help from underneath a fallen tree branch, Scootaloo screaming as a manticore brought down its fangs upon her, Scootaloo crying as she was surrounded by dark figures in a deserted back alley.

Dash shook her head, angry at herself for getting so distracted. Fantasizing and worrying wouldn’t accomplish anything – Scootaloo needed to be found, and she needed to act, not think. Dash started pacing, trying to distract her subconscious with movement.
Okay, okay, okay. If she ran, then . . . then she’s probably gone someplace she knows, so where would that be?
With the CMCs.

Sweet Apple Acres was closer than the Carousel Boutique, so Dash turned herself towards it and reflexively opened her wings. A sharp web of pain across her feathers and wing bones reminded Dash why she had been walking more as of late. Even through the dull haze of painkillers, the pain was still enough to cause Dash to gasp and snap her wings shut, eyes watering. Cursing beneath her breath, Dash took off towards Sweet Apple Acres as quickly as her hooves allowed.

When Dash arrived at the farm, she was panting and tired. Rainbow Dash had only run this much at the Running of the Leaves against Applejack, but she had been concentrating on anger too much to care then. Now, she could feel every ragged intake of air into her lungs, cold against the heat of her body. She was built for flight, not track.

Luna’s moon shone with enough silvery light to illuminate the main yard, into which Dash now trotted. There was the farmhouse across from the gate, the barn over at the right side, and the start of a dirt path leading into the rows of apple trees to the left. Dash could see that the farmhouse was dark, everypony inside presumably sound asleep. The pegasus cantered across the distance of the yard, a speck of colour against a sea of silver-white. Dash reached the door, raising a hoof to knock when she saw something at the edge of her vision. Moving away from the farmhouse, Dash had a better look at it.

A soft orange light was just barely visible from across the orchard fields. Her stamina restored with hope, Dash jogged off towards it. Her hoofs beat a soft rhythm against the grass of the apple orchard and the wind was a cool comfort in her mane and across her face. For a couple of minutes, the world was silent except for the thudding of hooves and the panting of a worried mare. Dash inwardly berated herself for not being able to run faster without a monstrous stitch lancing through her side.

Dash had always prided herself on being fast, but she felt almost powerless now, as though trying to wade through chest-deep molasses. No matter how much she pressed herself, even sprinting through the stitch’s pain in short bursts, it wasn’t enough. The light was still visible whenever Dash crested a hill, but the trees obscured it and made navigation more difficult than it had any right to be. Dash sullenly reflected upon how this wouldn’t be a problem with the power of flight.

Dash burst through a final wall of greenery and into a large clearing, which was dominated by the CMC treehouse. Light shone gently out the windows and doorway. All was quiet and still.

Dash slowly stepped up the ramp.

“Hello? Anypony there?”

Silence greeted Dash, and she saw that the inside of the treehouse was empty except for her. There was a table in one corner of the room, upon which a lit kerosene lamp stood. There were some saddlebags piled in a corner. Dash recognized them instantly, and relief flooded over her in a cool tide.

Thank the goddesses, she is here. Sort of. I still need to find her.

Scootaloo shivered as a cold wind blew across her. The orange pegasus curled herself into a smaller ball, trying to preserve what warmth she could. She was naked, deprived of even her saddlebags, and the night did not care for her any more than it did for an insect freezing to death on a leaf.

Scootaloo finally forced herself to her feet, thinking to go back to the relative warmth of the treehouse now that the Apple family would all be asleep. She instantly wished she hadn’t, as her inner joints and belly protested at being robbed of what little heat they had managed to gather. Failing to suppress another shiver, the orange pegasus wiped the tears away from her cheeks and gathered up a few windfalls from the apple tree she stood under. Some of them were rotten and all of them were soft, but Scootaloo did not care.
I’m already hiding out on the Apple family property. I won’t be a thief as well as a-
The scene replayed itself in her mind’s eye, appearing before Scootaloo could will herself to forget. The lightning bolt, nearly ready to strike, a massive thunderclap followed by speed and a rainbow. Then, a shockwave, a miniature sun. Then, Rainbow Dash falling.

Then, a dull crack.

Scootaloo forced her eyes shut in a futile attempt to stop the tears. They found a way past her eyelids, as they always did. Her small frame was wracked with shaky sobs and torn with guilt. Scootaloo sank to her knees, too unsteady to remain standing.

Scootaloo couldn’t contain her sobs anymore, and they escaped from her throat in ragged chokes. Nearly killing her idol hadn’t been enough, oh no, she’d had to go and ignore the only friends she’d ever had. They had been crusading as a trio for nearly a year, and Sweetie Belle had known Scootaloo even before that. The three of them had become closest friends through their trials and misadventures, built a bond strengthened by the simple fact that they were there for one another.
And then I go and get my cutie mark after ignoring them for nearly a month, hospitalizing Rainbow Dash in the process.
Scootaloo sniffed, then sobbed once, managing to regain a semblance of control.
Cutie Mark Crusader bad pony. Yay.
The orange pegasus swivelled her head, looking at her right flank with contempt. Upon it rested a bright red cross, speed lines trailing behind it. Her books had told her that it meant she was to be a paramedic, or something similar. Helping ponies in need. Swooping in to save the day.

Gods, it was a joke.

The mark on her flank was a mockery, a cosmic caricature of what she’d done. She hadn’t helped anypony. She’d severely injured her idol, gouged a rift between her and her friends. Assuming that Dash did make a full recovery, would she be able to fly again? Would she be able to perform Sonic Rainbooms and save Equestria from evil, night-controlling god-princesses?

Scootaloo’s eyes hardened into purple slabs as she glared at the symbol on her flank.

When the flight school exam rolled around, Scootaloo had no idea how she’d do, what she’d do. The government hadn’t yet contacted her about what sorts of changes would be made to the exam, or to her curriculum texts. And when they did, what then? Scootaloo had been studying general flying and biology, not the sort of sprinting, endurance flight and medical knowledge a paramedic needed. She’d have to start almost from scratch, ensuring that what little free time she had now would be extinguished.

Scootaloo’s face contorted with anger and her eyes glistened with fresh tears. She bared her teeth and started shaking with rage. She had been staring at her flank for so long, the mark was nothing more than red shapes and lines, devoid of all meaning.

And even if she did get in, then what? Hard endurance flight camp, followed by nights of studying for her medical classes? Assuming she got any time off, what would be the point of it? The Crusaders weren’t her friends anymore. The Crusaders weren’t anything. As for her parents, Scootaloo didn’t know what to think about her parents yet. Her mother hadn’t been at home since the . . . big night, and her father-

“I’m a good pony!” Scootaloo grunted in anger. She slammed a hoof into the ground next to her, unable to restrain herself. The orange pegasus glared murderously at what was now a red blur on her flank. Without thinking, she raised her hoof from the ground and struck at the blur. Her hoof bounced off the muscle in her flank, and Scootaloo barely felt it. The impact was nothing to her emotionally-charged mind.

There was a moment of almost absolute silence, punctuated only by Scootaloo’s ragged breaths.

“Cost me my friends,” She seethed around clenched teeth, hitting her mark with both hooves. There was a dull thwap as they made contact.

“Cost me Rainbow Dash!” She said, louder. Another thwap.

“Stupid!” Scootaloo cried, louder still. Another thwap, accompanied by a high-pitched noise. The noise did not have a word to represent it – it was simply a sound of anger and pain. Scootaloo continued hitting her cutie mark, putting all the strength she had into the blows, timing them to her words.

“Dumb, no-good, rotten, miserable-”

Thudding hoofsteps, then a horrified voice.

“S-Scootaloo?”

“STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID-”

Then there are blue limbs prying her away from herself, and Rainbow Dash is standing there, looking at her with wide eyes. Scootaloo managed to look up and into Dash’s face, seeing the worry there.

Rainbow Dash, the pony she’d nearly killed.

Overcome with a fresh wave of sorrow, Scootaloo choked and broke away from Dash’s gaze, unable to look the blue pegasus in the eye. Dash instantly moved forward and embraced Scootaloo, hugging her tight and whispering reassurances.

“Oh gods above I was so worried about you how long have you been out here what happened oh you’re crying don’t worry don’t worry it’s going to be all right . . .”

Scootaloo was initially surprised by the gesture, but she soon responded to it and buried her face in Dash’s shoulder. Dash wrapped her wings around Scootaloo protectively, inhaling sharply at the pain, but refusing to let it win. Scootaloo’s tears had returned, and the two sat there for a time as Scootaloo cried herself out and a damp patch formed on Dash’s shoulder. Eventually, Scootaloo spoke up.

“Rainbow Dash, w-what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be . . . y’know . . .” Scootaloo’s voice cracked and she found herself unable to utter the words.

“They let me out just this afternoon. They said that the damage was mostly to my muscles and nerves, so there wasn’t much left to actually heal.”

“Oh. That’s good, I guess.”

“Scootaloo, what are you doing out here? I saw your face on a missing filly poster in the park. How long have you been here?”

Scootaloo was silent for a moment, then:

“This . . . this is my second night.” Rainbow Dash sighed with relief at the words. So she hadn’t been out here too long. Okay. This was better than Dash had hoped. Suddenly, a cold wind blew across the two ponies, interrupting Dash’s thoughts. They agreed that the treehouse would be a better place to discuss things, and walked back to it. Scootaloo limped slightly, favouring her right hind leg.

They seated themselves on the floor, facing each other. Scootaloo couldn’t meet Dash’s gaze, but neither could she stop herself from staring at Dash’s bandages. Lightning was enough to kill ponies by itself, her textbooks had said. Lightning combined with a Sonic Rainboom was another story altogether, and it perplexed Scootaloo that Dash had recovered so quickly. Before she could continue this train of thought, Dash spoke, breaking the silence.

“Scootaloo, does the Apple family know you’re here?”

“. . . No.”

“Okay. Well, we can deal with that in the morning, I suppose,” said Dash. “Wait, what have you been eating and drinking if they don’t know you’re here?”

“Well water and windfalls from the apple trees. I haven’t taken anything – I’m not a thief!” Scootaloo said defensively.

“Hey, whoa, nopony said you were,” Dash said, gesturing reassuringly with her hooves. Scootaloo realized how she had sounded and sighed. She started to say something, but Dash stood up and moved to a window. The blue pegasus reached her neck out, grabbing at a nearby branch. She pulled back, dragging the end of it through the window. Dash gestured to Scootaloo, then the tree branch.

Scootaloo walked toward it, aware of a growing pain in her right flank. She now saw that there were apples on the branch. Big, juicy apples, at least twice the size of what she had been eating recently. The smaller pegasus hesitated, unsure of what to do. Dash grunted something affirmative around the branch, motioned with a hoof. Scootaloo tentatively craned her neck and plucked off several apples, depositing them on the floor. Dash released the branch, which whipped out of the treehouse window.

Dash knelt by the apples and nudged one towards Scootaloo. The smaller pegasus stared at the fruit for a moment, clearly hesitant.

“Uh, Dash, you’re sure that Applejack . . .” she said, her voice shaky.

“I’m sure that Applejack won’t mind,” Dash responded. “You need to eat, and a few apples won’t make a difference either way.”

Scootaloo nodded absently, her eyes still locked on the apple. After another second of deliberation, she fell ravenously upon it. The sight of the apples had awakened the true depth of Scootaloo’s hunger, and the ache in her flank was now painful enough without having to compete with hunger pangs.

Dash munched absent-mindedly on an apple of her own while watching her student devour her way through a couple kilograms of fruit. Occasionally, the blue pegasus’s eyes would drift back to Scootaloo’s flank, and the slight bruising now just visible there. Dash was worried, but she held her tongue.
That can wait. The important thing is making sure Scootaloo’s fed properly.

After the orange pegasus had eaten to her stomach’s content, she sat back on her haunches and sighed contentedly. She felt much better now that her stomach was full. Rainbow Dash has likewise finished her apple, and now sat opposite Scootaloo, a small pile of apple cores between them.

“So . . .” began Rainbow Dash, searching for the right way to begin the conversation.

“Why am I here?” asked Scootaloo. Dash nodded, and the orange pegasus sighed. “Well, when you got injured . . . I figured I couldn’t just sit around in the hospital forever, y’know?”

“Of course.”

“Well, the first thing I did was to look up what my cutie mark meant. Apparently I’m cut out to be a paramedic, or something like that.” Scootaloo sighed and hung her head. Dash was instantly at her side, a hoof resting comfortingly across Scootaloo’s shoulders.

“What’s the matter with being a paramedic? It’s good work.”

“Yeah, but . . . I . . . I haven’t helped anypony. I mean, just look at how I treated the other Crusaders – I haven’t spoken to either of them for nearly a month. And now I get my cutie mark? Without either of them? ” Scootaloo said, leaning into Dash’s side. “Oh Gods, they must hate me.”

“Scootaloo.”

“Yeah?”

“Scootaloo, look at me.”

She did, and saw that Dash was looking down at her with a sad little smile on her face.

“Scootaloo, have the Crusaders told you themselves that they feel that way?” Dash said. Scootaloo paused for a moment, then:

“Well, no . . .”

“Have they said anything negative at all?”

“I . . . I guess not . . .”

“So where did you get this idea?”

Scootaloo broke away from Dash’s look, and scanned the floor with her eyes as she thought. It was true that the other Crusaders hadn’t said anything negative to her, but . . .

“Well,” said the orange pegasus, “how else could they feel?” Rainbow Dash merely chuckled knowingly at this before responding.

“Scootaloo, what you have with the Crusaders is a true friendship, and one that I’m sure will last long into your lives. Friends are a lot of things, but the true sign of a friend is how well they listen and forgive.”

“You . . . you really think so?” asked Scootaloo, managing to look up and meet Dash’s eyes.

“I’d bet my life on it.”

At this, Scootaloo’s eyes closed and her face screwed up. She sniffled and her head returned to its neutral position – completely level, devoid of any indication of emotion. Dash winced at the reaction her words had wrought.

“But it’s not just the Crusaders that drove you out here, is it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Scootaloo mumbled at length.

“Does it have to do with me?” Dash asked, again sure of the answer before the question.

“Y-yeah,” Scootaloo mumbled again, shifting slightly on her haunches. Dash lowered her head to Scootaloo’s level before speaking again.

“Wanna tell me about it?” the cyan pegasus asked, resting her temple lightly against Scootaloo’s. Scootaloo took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Only then did she speak.

“Well . . .” she began, voice faltering, “ever since the . . .” Scootaloo trailed off, looking for the right word. “Since the . . . accident, I . . . I . . .” Scootaloo choked on the words, unable to finish her thought.

“I’m so sorry, Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo cried, throwing herself into Dash and wrapping her forelegs around the larger pegasus’s chest. Small tears formed in her eyes despite her emotional fatigue, and strangled half-sobs punctuated her words. “It’s just, what we talked about, with being a weather pegasus . . . and, and then when I . . . and you saved me and . . . and you almost . . .”

Dash returned the gesture, gently shushing the smaller pegasus and speaking soft words of support. Scootaloo finally spent her emotional reserves and sat there, shakily inhaling and exhaling.

“Oh Gods, Dash, I’m so sorry. You almost-”

“Scootaloo, it’s okay,” Dash said. Scootaloo sniffed, then raised her head and met Dash’s eyes with her own.

“But . . . but I . . .”

“Scootaloo,” Dash continued, her tone maternal, “I understand why you did what you did. The way I described being a weather pegasus, it was only natural you’d be interested.” Dash paused for a moment, then continued.

“I didn’t tell you how lightning wrangling takes years of practice to do safely, or how unpleasant it actually is to command a cold front for days on end, or how thankless the job is when you have to interrupt everypony’s spring day with a huge rainstorm.”

At the last part, Scootaloo managed to mix a chuckle in with her sobs, and a hint of a smile formed on lips.

“Look, I made it through the whole ordeal fine, and you even managed to get your cutie mark. So, don’t feel bad, alright? Things happen. It’s how you react to them that matters.”

“Y-you mean,” Scootaloo sniffed, “you really . . . you really aren’t mad at me, or anything?”

“Scootaloo, of course I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Scootaloo grinned sheepishly, already feeling leagues better than she had less than an hour ago.

“I guess I’ll have some explaining to do once we go back to Ponyville, huh?” Dash just smiled in return.

“That can wait until the morning. In the meantime, you need a good night’s sleep.”

“I’d love to, but I don’t really have any blankets or anything,” agreed Scootaloo, her voice falling slightly as she realized what this entailed. “I mean, unless you want to wake up Applejack or something . . .”

Dash pondered the dilemma for a moment, hoof upon chin. Then, inspiration struck. Dash stood up and moved away from Scootaloo, onto the centre of the rough rug on the floor. She then lay down on her side, tucking her hooves in against herself. Scootaloo was thoroughly confused by this procedure, and made this clear on her face.

Dash then lifted one of her wings, and Scootaloo’s confusion evapourated.

Scootaloo moved her mouth soundlessly, unsuccessful in her attempts to articulate the bevy of emotions she felt. Eventually, she settled upon two words, said as she nestled in against Dash’s side and blue feathers blanketed over an orange coat.

“Thank you.”