How the Tables Turn

Spitfire’s eyes fluttered open. Everything was blurred. The first thing that registered was that she was moving.

“She’s waking up. Spitfire, look at me.”

Spitfire turned to face what she believed to be the one who spoke.

“You’re on your way to the hospital. You’ve lost a lot of blood, but I think you’ll be okay.”

It was Spitfire’s intent to say ‘How far are we?’ but the only thing to leave her throat was a series of painful coughs. She stifled them with her right hoof, avoiding using the left half of her body. When she looked at her hoof, from what she could tell, it was covered in blood.

“We better hurry up. She’s coughing blood, and a lot of it.” Their pace picked up. Before she knew it they were through the hospital doors and on their way to the ER. They came through the doors and quickly transferred her from the stretcher to the bed. Nurse Redheart came in, attaching her to an IV and a heartbeat scanner.

She had dealt with some pretty severe Wonderbolt crashes in her time, from both herself and others, but this was the first time she had ever heard a heartbeat that unstable.

“The lightning must’ve thrown her heartbeat off. I’ll leave you to it.”

“This’ll be a lot simpler if she’s asleep.” The nearest doctor strolled up with a needle and injected it into her arm. Seconds later she felt herself becoming unconscious again.

“Heartbeat is stable, she’s breathing on her own, and we’ve stopped the bleeding.”

“Any damage that may be permanent?”

Spitfire tensed up, suddenly realizing that she was listening on the doctors conversing about her.

“I think it would be best to wait for her to wake up.”

“Mmmph.” Spitfire’s eyes slowly opened, stopping half-lidded as if she didn’t have the strength to open them further.

“I guess we don’t have to wait long.” It was the doctor who had injected the sleeping drug.

“Doctor, please. She’s only just waking up. Give her a moment.”

“Of course.” The doctor turned his attention from Nurse Redheart to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmmm.”

“Apparently we’ll have to wait longer than I thought.” He chuckled, trying to lighten Spitfire’s spirits. It didn’t work.

When Spitfire found herself capable of coherent sentences, she attempted speech again. “What’s the damage?”

Nurse Redheart gave her a concerned glance, but surprisingly opted to not make Spitfire wait. “You have pretty major burns on your wing. They’ll take a while to heal. The lightning also tore your wing open. You have a torn ligament and a couple fractures. It’ll be a while before you fly again.

“The fall broke three of your ribs, and one of them punctured your lung. If you hadn’t coughed up the blood…”

“I would’ve drowned in it.” Spitfire became painfully aware of how close she came to dying.

“You lost a lot of blood. You’ll need a transfusion. You’ll also require a lot of time to heal. Most likely you’ll stay in here for about a month. After that, we’ll have to wait and see.”

Spitfire chuckled, a thought entering her mind. “So, who’s substituting for the substitute captain of the weather team?”

Redheart chuckled, too, but something was off about it. She couldn’t quite put her hoof on it, but there was something there that brought Spitfire major discomfort. “Cloudy Skies said you put him second in command, so, naturally, he took over.” Spitfire nodded. It made sense.

“So, how come I’m not in tons of pain right now?”

“Morphine. Enjoy it while it lasts, because now that we aren’t trying to keep you knocked out, we’ll have to lower the dosage. A lot.”

“Well that sucks.”

Redheart nodded. Again, something was off about it. This time Spitfire knew what it was, though. Redheart felt sorry for her.

“Hey, what gives? Why so downhearted? Lighten up; I’m alive, for Celestia’s sake! What has you so depressed?” Spitfire wore a genuine smile, the realization of how lucky she was sinking in. “If I were you, I’d be celebrating right now. The two of you saved my life.”

This seemed to be the final straw for Nurse Redheart. “We should go. You need your rest. I’m glad you appreciate what we did for you.” Her composure was rapidly fading as she spoke. “I’ll check on you every fifteen minutes or so.” With that, the two of them left the room.

Nurse Redheart let her demeanor crumble in the hallway. She stared dejectedly at the floor, not moving an inch. The doctor approached her. “Redheart?”

“She doesn’t know how lucky she is. Personally, I don’t want her to. But… She’s the luckiest mare in the world to be alive right now.”

“I know. Twice. That’s definitely a first.”

Redheart nodded stiffly in agreement. That was the one thing she had neglected to tell Spitfire.

Twice. They had to restart her heart… twice. Redheart had never heard of that being a necessity, let alone it actually working a second time. “How long do you think it will be before she flies again?”

“Before she flies at all? Probably about a month and a half. It’ll take several months before she can fly as well as she did before, though.”

“I feel so bad for her. Taking flight from the captain of the Wonderbolts? It’s like taking Rainbow Dash’s mane away. It’s who she is. She has no identity without it.”

“It’s not permanent, though. She’ll fly again.”

“I guess. She’s not managing weather again, though. That’s for sure.”

“I don’t think she’d want to.”

Spitfire lay in bed. She wondered why Redheart had left in such a hurry. She was definitely hiding something about Spitfire’s condition. She thought back on what she said before Redheart left.

Lighten up; I’m alive, for Celestia’s sake!

Spitfire’s eyes widened, almost taking up her entire face as her thought cut at her like a knife made of ice.

Was she going to die?