After Soarin’s seventh successful touring season, the Wonderbolts had a few weeks off before the Summer Sun Celebration practice sessions. The carefree stallion was relishing this opportunity like only he could, snoring loudly in his custom-built bachelor pad. One of the comforts of being promoted to Co-Captain was the extra pay, and that meant he could splurge on the finer things in life. He had no problems, nopony else to worry about, it was the perfect life for a stallion.
And then, there was a knock on the door.
“Hwuh... it’s too early!” Soarin’ rolled over in his bed as the knocking came again. “I thought we were off!”
After a third disturbance, the lazy stallion realized what the noise was and begrudgingly dragged his blanket to the door.
“Dumb salesponies...” he grumbled. “Bugging me this early....” He made his way to the entrance of his home and opened the door. “We don’t want any.”
“Any what?” came the voice of a young pony.
Soarin’ opened his eyes and didn’t see anypony there, and he saw nopony as he looked around. Then he looked down and saw a small colt holding a piece of paper in a sidebag. “Uh... hi, kid.”
“Hi!” the teal pegasus smiled, accidentally dropping the paper on the cloud. “Oh, uh... sorry,” he said as he tried to pick it up.
“No, no, I’ll get it,” the older pegasus replied. One of the important things about being a Wonderbolt was publicity, and so it was that a very frustrated Soarin’ put on his best happy face. “So, you want an autograph or something, kid?”
“Uh... sure.”
Soarin’ was a bit perplexed by the foal’s reaction, and he was even more perplexed by the fact that he was alone. “Hey, is your mom or dad around?”
“Yep!”
The colt was more sure about that than the autograph request, and this further puzzled Soarin’. “Let me get a pen. Wait here.” Soarin’ wasn’t gone very long, but it was long enough for a black carriage to pull up to the house. By the time Soarin’ returned, the young colt was joined by a suited stallion, chocolate in color. The foal looked saddened by this, but Soarin’ wasn’t paying attention to him at the moment. “Oh, hey there,” the Wonderbolt addressed the new figure. “You the colt’s dad?”
“I am his current legal guardian,” the stallion replied. “I’m Stalwart. I hope this young one didn’t cause you any trouble.”
“No, no,” Soarin’ said. “No trouble at all. Kids want autographs, am I right?”
Stalwart chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He turned to the foal. “Now, would you be a good little colt and wait for me in the carriage?”
“Yes, sir.” The tiny colt sulked away. Soarin’ noticed he wasn’t as happy as before.
“He’s a good kid,” Stalwart said, “but he can be a handful. I’m sorry about this, sir. I’m not even sure how he found you.”
“No, it’s fine. Let me just sign this for him.” Soarin’ picked up the fallen paper and finally looked at it. It was a publicity picture of him, but what caught his eye was what was already written on it. A simple word: Daddy. Soarin’ froze, mouth hanging open wide enough for a quarray eel. Stalwart sighed.
“I had a feeling that was gonna happen,” he said sadly. “I’m really sorry about this. Apparently, his mom put it into his head that you--”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Soarin’ cut him off. “You said you were his ‘legal guardian’?”
“Yes. His mother was struck by a carriage and passed away a few weeks ago. With no known father, he is a ward of the state, and temporarily under my care.”
Soarin’ nodded. Losing your only known family could be painful, he knew that first-hoof. “Do you think that, maybe, I could come visit him sometime?”
“You sure about that?”
“Well, I just thought that if I came and talked to him, I could find out why he thinks I’m his dad.”
“I don’t know... I wouldn’t want to feed into his delusion,” answered a concerned Stalwart.
“It’d just be to talk. Sometimes, kids need somepony to talk to.”
Stalwart thought it over a bit, and finally reached into his pocket and pulled something out. “Here’s my card. You may be right about this... but just be careful.”
“Thanks.” Soarin’ picked up the pen and picture again. “Oh, uh, what’s his name?”
“Rush.”
Soarin’ scribbled on the picture and handed it back to Stalwart. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you sir. Have a--”
Soarin’ suddenly snatched the picture back. “Actually, one second.” He scribbled out his original message and wrote something else. He frowned, “Too corny,” and crossed it out again. Repeating the process a few more times, he finally smiled and gave the folded picture back to an exasperated Stalwart. “Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s fine. Have a pleasant day.” With that, Stalwart went back to the carriage and gave the picture to Rush. The little one unfolded it and looked puzzled at it. At the top, it read “To Rush,” followed by a bunch of scribbled-out words around the picture. At the bottom, however, the word “Daddy” was circled, and next to it, a simple message:
Whether I am or not, I will always be your friend. -- Soarin’
Rush looked up at Stalwart and smiled before hugging the picture tight. Stalwart looked at him and chuckled. Maybe something good would come out of the encounter.
***
It had been a quite distressing day for Soarin’. He had barely been able to do anything since he saw the picture of himself labeled “Daddy”, a picture that belonged to a very young colt that seemingly fell out of the sky. His head was spinning from all of the questions that arose. How did the kid find him? Could he possibly be a father? How could he possibly justify never being there for him?
And then there was the question which he didn’t think should bother him: What if he wasn’t the colt’s father? That caused so much conflict within his own mind. On one hoof, it would likely allow him to continue living his current lifestyle. Fast, loose, and carefree, everything a young, famous stallion could ask for. On the other hoof, something about the colt spoke to him. He knew what it was like to grow up without a real family, and he wouldn’t wish that pain on anypony. That was why he signed the picture like he did. The little one would probably need a friend, and Soarin’ might be the closest thing to one for him.
“Okay, Soarin’,” he told himself in the mirror. “You can handle this. You can do something about this. Tomorrow, you’re going to go visit him. Because you made a promise. And a Wonderbolt keeps his promises.”
His little pep talk calmed him down, and Soarin’ yawned. As he neared his bed, he noticed a box of new Wonderbolts merchandise in his closet. Some T-Shirts, hats, assorted flags and collectibles, all of which would be sold at their performances. But he was drawn to a pair of plush figures, one of himself and one of Spitfire. He placed the Spitfire toy on his nightstand, putting his own likeness back in the box.
“Well, Spits,” he said to the doll, “we’ve got a heck of a day tomorrow. But I think you’ll like him.” With that, Soarin’ turned out the light and drifted off to sleep.
***
“No, Mrs. Buttersworth... Captain Strong wants waffles today...” Soarin’ readjusted himself and squeezed what he thought was his pillow tighter. A bit of hair, however, tickled his nose enough for him to open his eyes. “Wuh... Spitfire?” Somehow, the doll he set out the previous night was now being clutched in his hooves. With a groan, he turned to look at his clock. “Aw, horseapples!”
A quick shower and two waffles later, Soarin’ went out into the early afternoon streets. With the doll tucked away in his saddlebag, he looked at the address on the business card Stalwart left him. It surprisingly wasn’t that long of a flight, being that he built his home closer to the urban district, and he soon came across a small office building.
“Figures,” he said to himself as he swung the door open. The Cloudsdale office of the Foal Protection Agency was smaller than it would be in Manehattan or Canterlot, but it was kept to the same standards of order and cleanliness. After looking around, Soarin’ trotted up to the front desk. “Uh, hello?”
“May I help you?” the cream-coated receptionist asked in a monotone.
“Do you know where I could find a Mr. Stalwart?”
“Down the hall, third door on your right,” she informed, all without looking up from her magazine.
“Thanks.” Soarin’ left her alone and made his way to Stalwart’s office. Taking a moment to breathe, he knocked on the door.
“Come on in,” the large pegasus responded. He smiled as the Wonderbolt entered. “Ah, hey there. Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
Soarin’ sat down and let out a brief laugh. “I don’t know why, but I thought you’d have given me a home address.”
“Well, it was a bit of a sudden meeting yesterday, but even so, I’m glad you’re here. For procedural purposes.”
“Sorry?”
“Well, before we allow a potential guardian to officially have contact with the child, we have to do an interview and background check.”
“Hold on,” Soarin’ interjected. “I never said I’d be a potential guardian.”
“I know,” Stalwart responded. “But it makes it easier to get all of this out of the way in case you change your mind about it.”
“Oh. Guess that makes sense,” he said unsurely.
“So, obviously, I know who you are. Soarin’, co-Captain of the Wonderbolts, the greatest flyers in all of Equestria.”
“I see my reputation precedes me.”
“Ha! Indeed!” Stalwart took out a pen. “So, any criminal record I should know about?”
“No.” Soarin’ quickly said it, and Stalwart knew something was up. The Wonderbolt sighed. “Okay, you got me. When I was 16, me and a few buddies took a joyride in a royal chariot. We took it from the training camp, and...”
Stalwart was already laughing. “How far did you get?”
“Not very,” Soarin’ admitted. “That had to be the stupidest thing we’d ever done.”
“Yeah, those things can be heavy. I used to be in the Royal Guard,” Stalwart reflected. “Had to retire due to back problems. So, you grew up around Canterlot?”
“I kinda grew up all over the place, you know? Bit of a nomadic family, dad was in the military... and you can already tell I’m lying, can’t you?”
Stalwart’s stern face nodded, and he turned to his side. “You see this?” he said as he pointed to a pair of glasses imprinted on his flank. Soarin’ nodded, and Stalwart continued. “It means I can read ponies. I can tell when something is bothering them, when they’re lying, and when they’re too scared to admit they need help.” He turned back to face the Wonderbolt. “So tell me, Soarin’, what’s got you concerned?”
The blue pegasus sighed. “Truth is... I was a foster kid my whole life. Cloudsdale, Fillydelphia, Canterlot, I think I bounced around to every city in Equestria.”
“Parents?”
“Mom died giving birth to me. Dad....” Soarin’ just shook his head.
“That certainly explains a lot,” Stalwart said glumly.
“I know it. It’s a hard life. Just when you get used to one family, somepony shows up to say you have to go somewhere else. I guess that’s why this life is so easy for me.”
“The ‘Bolts must be the closest to family you’ve ever gotten, huh?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Stalwart smiled. “I must admit, I was worried about you at first.”
“Huh? Why?”
“You being a celebrity and all, I wasn’t sure how you’d take the news that this foal thinks you’re his dad. I wasn’t expecting you to show up at all, to be perfectly honest. You could have easily forgotten the whole thing and moved on with your life. But you didn’t, and I admire that.”
“Wait, I thought your special talent was reading ponies?”
“I can read their emotions,” Stalwart clarified. “I can’t predict the future or their exact thoughts.”
“Oh,” Soarin’ said, “I guess that makes more sense.” He paused and took a deep breath. “So, uh, tell me about the kid. What’s he like?”
“Anything to get the topic off of you, huh?” Stalwart chuckled as he pulled out the file marked “Rush.” His mood became decidedly more somber as he spoke about the child. “As I said yesterday, it was quite sudden how he came to us. His mother was headed back to work from her lunch hour, and a carriage spun out of control and hit her. Rush was in school at the time, and, well....”
“Didn’t take it well?”
“How would you take it? Only family you’ve ever known ripped away?”
“Dumb question of me,” Soarin’ shook his head. “Yeah, I had to leave homes after I’d been accepted into families, but....”
“He’s been living with me since then, until we can find a better situation for him. It’s not strictly standard procedure, but you have to do what’s necessary.”
“No, I, I get it. So how’s he been since then? He seemed pretty, well, okay to me.”
“He’s doing a good job of trying to move on. I mean, he’s still not really over it, probably never will be, but he’s doing okay in school, seems to have friends, tries to stay happy despite it all.”
“Tough kid,” Soarin’ said. “So what brings me into the picture?”
“That is a bit tricky,” Stalwart relented. “When I met him, his room was plastered with Wonderbolts merchandise, not unlike any other pegasus foal, I imagine.”
“And let me guess, most of it focused on me, right?”
“That is correct. I just thought you were a favorite, but then I saw the picture. Near as I can gather, his mom kept referring to you as his dad. Haven’t been able to get much else out of him.”
Soarin’ nodded. “You know, I was actually hoping to see him today,” he said as he reached into his bag and pulled out the plushie. “I, uh, brought him a gift.”
Stalwart looked at the doll and chuckled. “Why don’t you give it to him yourself?” He wrote something down and passed it over. “Come on over for dinner. I think he’d be happy to see you.”
“Really?” Soarin’s face lit up. “That’s fantastic! Thank you so much,” he said as he shook the larger stallion’s hoof.
“Hey, it’s all right,” Stalwart assured. “Have a good evening.”
“You too, and thanks again!” Soarin’ pocketed the address and left the office in high spirits. Of course, he was nervous, but if he could build a relationship with the colt, it might make Rush’s life better.
***
Rush’s life was miserable. All he could do was ask himself questions. Why was his mom taken from him? Why did his teachers keep trying to ask him to talk about it? Why did Mr. Stalwart keep saying he was trying to find a good family for him? Didn’t he want him?
One of the few comforts he had found was Soarin’s autograph. Soarin’ was his friend. Maybe Soarin’ was his dad, but when he said this to the other foals, they just laughed. Sure, he had friends he could play with, friends who helped him when he felt sad, but some kids were just cruel. It was because of one of these kids that Rush was sitting in the principal’s office.
“Rush,” the principal said, drawing his attention. “I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened. Miss Gale told me what that colt said to you, and I can understand that you were upset.”
No you can’t, Rush thought to himself. Those words that Blue Streak said hurt him deeply, and he was not sorry for fighting.
“However,” the principal continued, “you can’t keep this inside forever. If you would just talk to me, I’m sure I can help you.” Rush simply sat there, staring at the ground again. The principal sighed and kept going, “I have informed your guardian of this incident. He’ll speak with you about this. You may go back to class now.”
Rush was grateful to be let out of the office. It was still recess for a few more minutes, so he could go back outside to play, but that ran the risk of running into Blue Streak again. Instead, he decided to head back to his classroom early, but a friendly face was waiting for him outside the office.
“How’d it go?” the red colt asked.
“Okay, I guess,” Rush answered. “Thanks for being here, Pep.”
“Hey, I’m your friend. So, wanna go play outside some more?”
“Nah, let’s just go back to class.” The other colt nodded and they trotted back to their classroom, though Rush was going slower than usual.
“Aw, cheer up, buddy,” Pep started. “We both know that Blue Streak’s just got clouds for brains!” Rush snickered, and his friend was pleased. “There you go! Say, wanna come over for dinner tonight?”
“Don’t think I can. I’m probably in trouble,” Rush lamented as they entered their classroom to the mild surprise of their teacher.
“Rush? Red Pepper? You’re back so early?”
“Sorry, Miss Gale,” Rush spoke, “but I don’t wanna play outside right now...”
“Yeah,” Pepper agreed. “Not while that mean old Streaky’s there.”
“Well, I can understand that.” Miss Gale went back to grading papers. “Please keep it down, though.”
The colts took their seats near the back of the class.
“Well, how about I come over to your house?” Pepper asked.
“I don’t know,” Rush said. “We can ask.”
Pepper smiled, and the two were able to work through the rest of the school day without many problems. There were a few glares exchanged between the pair of friends and the bully, but nothing was ever allowed to escalate. By the time they were going to be picked up, Rush was mostly back to being a happy little colt.
“Rush!” Stalwart was conveniently standing next to Red Pepper’s mom as he called for him, and the pair quickly galloped over.
“Hi, mom! Hi, Mr. Stalwart!” Pep ran to his mom and gave her a warm hug. Rush wasn’t nearly as affectionate with Stalwart, but this was to be expected.
Stalwart chuckled. “Ready to go, Rush?”
“Um, Mr. Stalwart?” Rush began. “Can Pep come over tonight?”
Pep gave his biggest, cutest smile, but it wouldn’t work. “I’m sorry, Rush,” Stalwart answered, “but there’s someone very important coming to dinner tonight.” Rush frowned, but Stalwart quickly thought of a way to cheer him up without ruining the surprise of Soarin’s visit. “I’ll tell you what, though. If it’s okay with them, you can have a sleepover at his house this weekend.” The colts lit up, and Stalwart turned to Pep’s mom. “Is that okay, ma’am?”
“Oh, absolutely!” she said. “We’d love to have him over.”
Stalwart looked at Rush, who was at least looking happier. “Well, come on, Rush. We’ve got a big meal to prepare for.”
***
Soarin’ did not expect to be this nervous, but it wasn’t without reason. Here he was, the Co-Captain of the Wonderbolts, going into a small, unfamiliar apartment. What if someone saw him and got the wrong idea? Doing a quick check for any paparazzi, he took a deep breath and looked in his saddlebag. The plush doll was nice and clean. “Here goes nothing, Spitfire.”
He knocked on the door, and after a moment, Stalwart opened up. “Hey there! Glad you could make it.”
“Well, we Wonderbolts are trained to keep appointments.”
“Come on in,” Stalwart said. “Rush is just finishing up his homework.”
Soarin’ entered the living space and was overcome by the aroma of one of his very favorite meals. “Shepherdess pie?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I got a nose for that sort of thing.”
Stalwart gave a chuckle before heading to Rush’s room. “Rush, dinner!”
“Coming!” the foal called back. He looked tired as he opened the door, but got a rush of adrenaline when he saw the special guest Stalwart talked about. “Mr. Soarin’!” He ran up to the Wonderbolt and gave him a big hug.
“Well,” Soarin’ chuckled, taken by surprise. “It’s good to see you, too!” He ruffled the colt’s mane. “I brought you a little something,” he said, reaching into his bag and retrieving the plush figure of Spitfire.
“Wow!” Rush hugged the doll. “Thanks!”
“Now you take care of her, okay?” Soarin’ instructed. “She’s my best friend in the Wonderbolts.”
Rush nodded, and Stalwart smiled. “Well, let’s eat!”
The pie wasn’t necessarily the best Soarin’ ever had, but it wasn’t bad. Certainly, it was made with care and time, unlike all of those frozen pies he wolfed down in his college years. “So, Rush,” he asked, “how was your day?”
“It was okay,” the colt responded, rolling a pea around.
“Something happen?” Soarin’ pried further.
“He got in a little... altercation today,” Stalwart answered for him.
“He called me a liar!” Rush said indignantly.
“Whoa, who did?” Soarin’ continued.
“Blue Streak,” Rush answered. “I said I met you, and he called me a liar and pushed me.”
Stalwart sighed. “That boy’s been a problem for a while now.”
“You try talking to his dad about it?” Soarin’ inquired.
“I honestly think he’s encouraging his son,” Stalwart went on. “Of course, that’s what you get with a guy named Mean Streak.”
Soarin’ froze mid-bite, and just stared in disbelief. After some time, he finally swallowed. “... seriously? ‘Mean Streak’?”
“That’s his name.”
“What kind of parents name their kid ‘Mean’?!” Rush started laughing, and Soarin’ kept going. “That’s like naming your kid ‘Badguy McEvilPants’! It’s asking for trouble!” Rush was in hysterics at this, and Stalwart couldn’t help but smile.
“I don’t have a clue,” Stalwart said. Soarin’ shook his head and kept on eating. Idle small talk peppered the rest of the dinner, and soon the food was gone. Rush let out a yawn. “Getting tired there?” Stalwart asked.
“Yeah,” the colt replied. “I think I’ll finish my homework and go to sleep.”
“I think I’d better head on out, too,” Soarin’ said. “C’mere, Rush.” Rush trotted over and gave the Wonderbolt another hug. “Goodnight, kiddo.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Soarin’.” With that, Rush went off to his room.
“Sweet kid, isn’t he?” Stalwart said.
“Yeah, he is.” Soarin’ couldn’t help but see a lot of himself in the foal. A similar attitude and sense of humor, to be sure, but those could just be coincidences. The eyes were almost the same, but green eyes were rather common. Still, it was a bit striking, their similarities. “Say, Stalwart, you got a picture of his mom?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’d just like to take a look.”
Stalwart nodded and retrieved a framed photo of Rush with his mom, which Soarin’ examined closely. She looked so happy with her son, on a beautiful day out in Cloudsdale Park. She was tall, with a yellow-green coat that shined under the sun, and deep magenta eyes that accented her long violet mane. She seemed familiar to Soarin’. He tried to think of where he might have seen her before. Perhaps at a fundraiser event, or in the stands at a show, or maybe a party.
A party.
A party very early in his Wonderbolt career. A party where he was celebrated as the standout rookie. A party that may have changed his life forever. It couldn’t be... could it?
“I... have to go.” He handed the picture back to Stalwart. “Thanks for everything, I’ll be in touch, good seeing you, bye!”
Soarin’ tried not to seem like he was leaving as fast as possible, but Stalwart could see right through it. He said nothing, though. If the Wonderbolt was reacting to what Stalwart thought he was, then he had a lot to think about and process.
