As Long As You're Living

Chapters

My Baby You'll Be

My Baby You'll Be

By: Mickey Dubs

—

As the sun cast off its morning shackles and slipped slowly into the spaces of a quiet room, the warm, pleasant hum of sleeptime bliss was shattered by the jealous shriek of a forgotten alarm clock. That tiny machine could stand the interminable silence and the slow bake of the sun against its back no longer, so when its patience had been exhausted it rudely sounded out its discontent to awaken its little orange mistress.

That same filly, still trapped in the folds of her sheets, rolled over with a hearty grunt and gave her firm declaration of wakefulness with the slam of her hoof.

It was no rooster, but it would have to do.

The shadowy demons of Scootaloo's nocturnal adventures returned with a vengeance, sounding their resurrection with a heavy weight on her eyelids. With another grunt and a deft roll she successfully cast away those feral beasts for the last time, and as hoof landed on cloud her pumping blood gave her enough power to remain awake.

Her touchdown on the floor was the final piece of the puzzle, and with a shake of her mane Scootaloo smiled as all the world’s tumblers slowly fell into their allotted positions. Opening her eyes fully, Scootaloo cast aside her sleepiness and allowed everything to finally come together, revealing a world which anxiously awaited her arrival.

It still shocked her, even now, that just a short while ago this floor had been much harder than the plushy mass that now held her upright. Those floorboards wherein she had hidden her most priceless possessions had been replaced instead by only the softest of clouds available, and those treasures she'd hidden were proudly displayed on the cloud cupboards she and her father had designed together.

Her father...

It was still so hard to believe, even after a year had passed, that she now had a father... a real father! He wasn't just some intangible being she'd thought she'd seen to rationalize her sudden confrontation in the schoolhouse. He hadn't just materialized from the darkness of a lonely corner to humor her temporarily, to make her feel important and loved for the most fleeting of moments.

He'd found her! He'd finally found her!

Right where her mother had left her.

In the passing of a year, her world... her life... had changed. The wooden floors which had been her bed, her home, her closet, and her dining room table had been replaced with those tamed clouds her father had wrangled and lovingly shaped with separate rooms and amenities for each of her needs. Everything she had made do with in the Crusaders' clubhouse had been forged anew by her father’s hooves and those clouds he'd been permitted to use by the generosity of Celestia herself.

She could hear him now, working downstairs as he always had since the house had been erected. Every weekday morning came with a beaming smile, a piping-hot breakfast, a few kisses on both cheeks, and a beautiful shimmering landing on the schoolhouse steps. Every evening ushered in another hot meal, a few more kisses, the next few chapters of the latest Daring Do adventure, and finally her own warm room and her own soft sheets.

Every night he gave her his silent assurance that he would remain to break the pattern of her lonely years alone, and every morning when she opened her eyes and heard the hustle and bustle of activity from beneath her hooves: he kept his promise.

Nothing could ever change that.

"Good morning, sweetie!" Scootaloo’s father chirped, humming as he usually did when the lilting fragrance of warm oatmeal and various fruits snagged his daughter by the nostrils to whisk her downstairs. Ladling out a healthy portion of oatmeal for the filly now buzzing herself into her chair, he made an effort to adorn her meal with a few more fruits than usual before sliding the morsel onto his outstretched silver wing. Then, with a grin, he turned to feed his daughter with a light kiss on the head and a ruffle of her mane.

"How did you sleep?" he queried as Scootaloo began to wolf down her breakfast. The ravenous feeding halted for a moment when she, as she often had to do, reminded herself that there would be food enough to savor. Chewing the strawberries and assorted chunks of sugar before swallowing, Scootaloo sucked at those infuriatingly small pips taking residence between her teeth before recounting the adventures of her heroic, nocturnal alter-ego.

"I had another adventure last night!" Scootaloo exclaimed with a buzz of her wings. "It was just like the last one, except this time it was in my room and everything was so much bigger... like I was an ant or something!"

"Interesting," the stallion commented, sampling his own breakfast. "Go on! What happened next?"

"Well," Scootaloo supplied after a brief moment. "I was minding my own business climbing up Mt. Armoire when my socks attacked!"

"Did they?!" the stallion queried, his eyebrow cocked.

"Oh yes!" Scootaloo asserted, her smile growing wider as the contents of her bowl slowly drained. Her tone alone sounded out her resolution, and her furiously nodding head was more than enough validation of her sincerity. "They came tumbling down on top of us, so Fleetfoot and I had no choice but to take to the wind and vanquish them!"

"And did you?"

"Almost," Scootaloo said with a shrug, her courageous fire flickering before flaring up once more. "One of them bit Fleetfoot’s wing and sent us hurtling to our doom! It all seemed lost, but right before we hit the ground: I snagged one of them, knocked him out, used him as a lasso, and saved the two of us! It was just like something Daring would do!"

Her animated gestures to complement those daring nocturnal adventures only served to make her father smile more, every smile on his face stretching wider with each new heroic act of his valiant daughter and her Wonderbolt figurine-turned-trusty steed.

"They were all around us," Scootaloo said with a flourish of her spoon, leaping to her hooves in her fighting stance. "Fleetfoot was down for the count and they were all coming in closer! They were gnashing their teeth and were about to get us, but right then: I jumped through the air and flew! I actually flew, Dad! They never saw me coming! I was like 'hiyah' and 'have at you!' and... and all those things Daring would say! They were squirming for their lives but they couldn't go fast enough!"

"Wow," her father mumbled as Scootaloo's chest heaved with exertion. "I think we should take a break from those stories, Scootaloo. They seem to be a little more violent than I remember them being."

"Oh no, please don't!" the filly pleaded, her outward-stretched spoon and her wings clamping to her sides. "Please don't stop reading them! They're just so awesome and amazing and she's so... well, daring! I want to be just like her when I grow up!"

Swiping her spoon through the air in a skillful riposte, the little pegasus jabbed forward to skewer the closest imaginary foe, laying waste to those demons she’d banished just a few minutes before with the fire of her imagination made even warmer by her delicious breakfast.

Her father couldn't help but beam with pride as his valiant daughter took on her demons and the world with a smile, conquering the toughest of challenges and the most fearsome of doubts with nothing but her dull imaginary rapier and her brilliantly sharp mind. That fire he'd seen in those massive eyes of her foalhood years still flamed with her restless energy, and with every thrust and parry of her dirty utensil she showed the world her true power.

She could do anything. She had already had years of practice. Hopefully he would find that same confidence.

"Be careful honey," the stallion pleaded with a little nod towards her seat. "We don't have time to clean you up if you get dirty. We've got a long train ride ahead of us, so finish up, grab your things, and make sure you—"

"Wait," Scootaloo stammered, her imaginary rapier twinkling away until only her dull, dirty spoon remained. "What do you mean, 'train ride'? You didn’t say anything about a train ride! Where are we going?"

Rounding on her father, Scootaloo trembled when the usually warm and inviting light of those dearest eyes died out in the space of a moment. That dazzling silver coat which had always shone with an almost unbearable warmth lost all vestiges of its former heat, forsaking the fire of contentment for the uninvited frigidity of a minor horror.

The more the silence grew, the more he found that she indeed had no idea of just what day it was.

She had no idea of what the two of them had in store.

With a stammer and a glance at the nearby wall the stallion's words failed him, for the clock now brazenly chiming another hour indicated there was little time left to explain. Sliding to his hooves, he swept their dishes onto his wing and deposited them deftly beside the sink. Then, with a few hesitant steps forward, Scootaloo's father knelt down low to catch his daughter's beautiful lavender eyes.

The softness they and his daughter had once shared acknowledged his movements and his intention, dying out to be replaced instead by those fiery demons she harbored. They were alight as they had been when the two had reunited, immediately prior to her assault and subsequent surrender to his embrace.

The fire flickered the more the seconds ticked away, and his next words did nothing but further cement that incandescent obstinacy.

"Scootaloo, honey," he whispered, stroking those little orange wings he'd always adored.

"We're going to see Mom today."

What fire once blazed behind those lavender eyes snuffed out immediately, extinguishing all vestiges of her youthful energy in a single slow heartbeat. That little organ sounded out her existence for the whole room to hear, for she made not a sound nor moved a single feather. That dull thumping was the only thing which gave him any sign that she was still there, for everything else about her suggested otherwise.

A few more moments passed before Scootaloo, her words tainted with malice, gave voice to her reticence and gave her opinion credence in the form of a solitary word:

"No."

"Yes, sweetie, we are," her father insisted calmly, brushing away a few rebellious strands of her mane. "It's been too long since you've seen her, and even longer since I have. This is something we need to do, even though I know how much she hurt you."

"She hurt us!" Scootaloo barked, pushing away her father's once-comforting hoof. "She left us both, Daddy! She just left us behind and never cared! Why would you want me to see her?! Why would you want to do that to me?!"

"It's not all about you, Scootaloo," her father crooned, reaffirming himself to stroking his daughter's mane. "I miss her, and I know that somewhere deep down in that brave little heart of yours that you miss her too. We need to go and see her. It's what she wants."

"She should have wanted to be there for me!" the filly screamed, sliding to her rump with a little plop as she recoiled from her father. "She should have wanted to be a real Mom! She could've at least done it once, at least then I could say she tried!"

"Don't you say that, Scoots!" the stallion declared, nudging her chest hard with his hoofpoint. "Don’t you talk about her like that! She is your mother, and you will give her your respect! She brought you into this world, and she lov—"

"No, Dad!" Scootaloo retorted, leaping to her hooves. "I brought me into this world! I suffered living in an orphanage! I made myself a home in the clubhouse! I did that, not her! She didn't do anything except waste your money, your time, and our love! I won't give her anything, not until she gives it back!"

"She tried to, honey," the stallion whispered with a stroke of his fuming daughter’s cheek, his fluttering wings granting her a glimpse of those silver feathers she'd long dreamed of finding all those months ago. They had found her instead, and she was alive and full of happiness as a result...

But still, there was no mare to join him... no loving partner to raise the foal they had shared for so brief a time.

She had made no effort like her mate had. She hadn't even summoned the will to say goodbye to either of them. For all Scootaloo was concerned: she hadn't existed.

With a shake of her mane towards the floor, Scootaloo whispered her final defiance for the ground and the waiting pain of the day.

"She didn't try hard enough."

Slumping to the floor, Scootaloo had nothing further to say. Her silence spoke volumes, and her father had had more than enough time to learn that language of silent screams she so often used. Watching as the mane he had so lovingly brushed aside fell once more about her slowly dampening face, the stallion and his daughter sat in silence... unable to speak and unable to move, held fast to the ground by the weight of her truths.

There was nothing he could do but wait and give her time, for he would be a fool to try and wipe her tears away. Some hurts run too deep for a momentary embrace to remedy.

Allowing them both a few more minutes to calm down, a few more of those rebellious strands fluttered to the side as he, with a gentle pull, cast aside the looming shadows to bring her face upwards into the light.

"I'm nervous too, sweetie," he murmured, a fact made evident as his hoof trembled on her chin. "I'm scared about how I'll feel about seeing her after all this time. I try and fight it everyday, but you’re right... she did hurt us. We never got the chance to see her before she took off, and now that we have a chance to see her again I think it's important we take it. It won't be easy for either of us, but I know it's for the best."

Planting another kiss on the filly's forehead, Scootaloo's father pulled her close and shared what heat she’d lost with every beat of that ever-present heart. Lulled into the deepest of trances by that eternally thumping organ in her father's breast, Scootaloo allowed her previous doubts one last second to be content before dispelling them entirely.

She'd always loved that heart. She'd always known it was somewhere for her to find. She'd even tried to beat it out of his chest once... but still it remained: strong, defiant, and ever-beating. It never lied to her or hid anything from her. It had never done any of those things she had believed it would when she was still naive to the true workings of the world.

Why would it start now?

Nudging her way into her father's chest, Scootaloo allowed herself a calming sigh before voicing her thoughts.

"Can Rainbow come?" Scootaloo muttered hopefully, casting her eyes to the picture on the mantelpiece where lay the visage of her greatest hero: that mare whose confidence had been forever immortalized behind panes of glass and the annals of the Wonderbolt history books. Her heart fell even further when her father gave his quiet reply.

"No, honey. I don't think we need her for this. Besides, she has more important things to do with her time now that she's on the performing circuit. I think she would agree with me on this."

"I know she would," Scootaloo confessed, burrowing herself in further. "I just... I just thought maybe she would come with me."

"I think she would if she could, but I also think she would want you to be strong enough to do this without her."

The resulting pressure as his filly nodded her agreement was enough for his chest to swell with pride. How he had ever helped bring into the world such a brave child was a mystery...

And some mysteries don't need an explanation.

"If it makes you feel better," the stallion whispered with a renewed stroke of his daughter's back. "Your friend Dinky will be coming with us."

"What?!" Scootaloo stammered, relinquishing her place on her father's breast with a little huff. "Why does she get to come?"

"Miss Ditzy is seeing her mother too," he stated simply with another glance at the clock. "I invited her to come with us, and she's bringing Dinky along with her. They'll be at the train station very soon, so we need to hurry up and get moving or else we'll miss them!"

“That’s not fair! If you can bring somepony along, why can’t I?”

“Because it was the nice thing to do, Scootaloo, and because Rainbow doesn't need to come whereas Miss Ditzy does. Ponies do nice things for one another, especially on days like these. They don’t huff and pout when they don’t get their way. Daring Do wouldn’t do that, would she?”

With a stamp of his hoof he sounded out his resolve, and as the clouds below rumbled from the sudden application of force they shocked Scootaloo back into reality.

Of course that was something Daring wouldn’t do! Daring would always be brave, even when the situation engendered so much confusion or distress. She wouldn’t refuse a challenge, nor would she back down from something which scared her.

Scootaloo could do that too. All it would need was a little time and just a dash of courage.

“Alright,” Scootaloo muttered. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Good. Be by the door when you’re ready.”

Planting another kiss on her head, Scootaloo’s father turned from the doorframe to gather his various necessities and what documents he needed for the train. Scootaloo did the same after a few moments, her heart set on her destination even as the clouds below held on tight, pleading with her not to leave them behind towards this unwanted destination and this new uninvited horror.

Picking up her hooves as those worries resurfaced, Scootaloo gave a little buzz and a light hop to free herself from the floor, speeding towards her room to gather her necessities. There was little she required, so the collection was easy.

The only thing she lacked was that love her father expected her to show. Her mother had never earned it from her. Scootaloo had never heeded his warnings to leave some in reserve on the off chance they would meet.

And now, when they were destined to reunite, Scootaloo would remind her just why she didn’t deserve it.

“Last call for Vanhoover!” came the conductor’s cry from the train’s fore. “All aboard that’s comin’ aboard!”

The last of those ponies ignorant of the time or the mounting weather front rallied themselves into action as the conductor’s cry rang out for all to hear. The advancing rainstorm and its heavy payload was doing nothing more than adding insult to injury, slicking the wooden platform and rendering many ponies' grips obsolete. Scootaloo’s father, diligently waiting beside the ticket booth to assist his guests, shot a smile at the filly who had adamantly stayed behind to 'save them a compartment.'

That was her excuse, and she was sticking to it.

What point was there in waiting for those two ponies who, despite their shared desire to visit their relative, had no reason to be joining them? The family Doo could have found their own way to get wherever it was they were going! They could have bought their own tickets instead of riding along with them! They had enough money for that at least.

Why did he just have to go and invite them? This trip was nothing to celebrate! There was no point in going in the first place!

Why dignify her mother’s abandonment with a joyous celebration of her qualities? Why justify her betrayal by lauding her with all those compliments and false appreciations which would disintegrate the second Scootaloo was forced to utter them? This trip was pointless, and the only reason she was even here was to humor her father.

Was that why the Doo’s had come: to take advantage of his offer? To ingratiate themselves by playing meek so that he, with his customary chivalry, would oblige them their hidden desires?

Was it desire itself?

Pulling herself from the murky depths of her queries, Scootaloo found the platform devoid of any life save those few security ponies who shuffled along to provide their aide to the last of the train’s passengers. One filly had fallen down in the scramble for the train, her scraped knees the bloody aftermath of a lost battle between herself and a large, slick puddle. A mare remained by her side, kneeling down to stroke the filly's cheek and sort through the intermingling raindrops to brush away those tears she could find.

Anything to ease her daughter’s distress. Anything to fight her daughter's battles for her.

How weak that filly must have been.

“Made it!” Scootaloo's father exclaimed, shaking the cinnabar mass he called a mane to cast off the last of the raindrops from outside. “Good thing you picked out these spots, Scootaloo! This train is packed with all sorts of wet ponies just itching for a dry spot.”

“Yes, thank you Scootaloo...” came a meek voice from the doorway, the grey pegasus mare to whom it belonged extending her wings to absorb the warmth of their compartment. “That was very kind of you. Dinky, why don't you take that seat across from Scootaloo?”

“Sure thing, Mom!”

Popping out from behind her mother, Dinky’s face collapsed upon itself as the filly strained and concentrated with all her might. A few beads of sweat slowly squeezed themselves out from her forehead, but she paid them no mind... so lost was she in levitating her cargo that it seemed no earthly thing could distract her from her mission.

With a swirl of lilac light the filly’s bags quivered, hovered for a moment, and then slowly bobbed through the air to land on the seat opposite from Scootaloo. Then, with a broad smile, Dinky leaped gracefully beside her bags and began to dig out her books. After a brief moment to find her bookmark, the little unicorn scrunched her face yet again to urge the tiniest iota of light to issue from the end of her horn. Her mother grinned wide as she seated herself beside her child, admiring her daughter's progress.

“It looks like Twilight’s lessons are paying off,” the stallion chuckled, seating himself beside his seething Scootaloo. Ditzy’s bright smile and her energetic nod answered for the both of them, and her yellow eyes softened further when they locked with those of her stallion companion.

“She’s really the best!” the mail-mare exclaimed, snuggling up close to her unicorn filly still struggling to master her beginner’s spells. “Twilight is very good with children, and she doesn’t ask for much in way of payment. I pay her when I can, but she never really minds when I’m late with tuition.”

As if in response to her shining review, Dinky gasped in surprise as that tiny mote of light Scootaloo had long since given up watching came back in a shimmer of dazzling light. When once it had fizzled and sputtered away, that little point of light remained no matter which way the filly turned or how frivolously she bounced in excitement. Extinguishing the beam of her own free will, Dinky grew a light shade of crimson when the two adults gave her a spirited ovation for her accomplishment.

“That was excellent, Dinky!” Scootaloo’s father exclaimed as the filly before him blushed madly.

“Thanks, Mr. Sun Dancer... I know it's not perfect..."

"It doesn't need to be perfect to still be incredible, Dinky!" the stallion chuckled, shooting Ditzy a furtive smile. "And you don't need to call me that! Just call me Sunny, alright?"

Nodding furiously, the unicorn sat herself fully upright and looked between her mother and the other adult of the party. Her bright eyes seemed to be judging which of the two to address, but soon her attention refocused on the silver pegasus who'd paid her such warm compliments.

"Thank you, Mr. Sunny! It’s only taken me a few weeks to get that spell down."

“It took you that long?” Scootaloo huffed, watching the filly’s reflection from her station at the window. “You should get your money back, Ms. Doo. At this rate, she won't even be able to light a candle until she's almost dead.”

Dinky’s head fell at her friend's words, but Scootaloo never had the pleasure of seeing her target suffer through her reflection in the glass. That opportunity was stolen away from her as Sunny, his voice teetering on the verge of full-blown rage, grabbed her roughly by the shoulder to enact his punishment.

“Scootaloo, that was a horrible thing to say! Say you’re sorry this instant, young lady!”

“No!” the filly retorted, stamping her hoof. “It wasn’t that impressive, and you’re both acting like she’s some sort of master magician or something!”

“She’s trying to do something very advanced for a filly her age!” Sunny whispered through clenched teeth, the edges of his voice ragged as he struggled to wrangle in his embarrassment. “You need to be nice to her this instant or else you and I are going to have words!”

"Yeah? Like what?! 'Be nice to Dinky, because she's trying'? Idiots can try, Dad! Losers try!”

“That’s enough out of you, Scootaloo!” Sunny barked, glaring at his daughter for a moment before chancing an apologetic glance at his guest and her weeping filly.

It was a glance which Scootaloo didn’t miss.

“Oh, I get it!” Scootaloo chuckled viciously. “You just want to get on Ms. Doo's good side, don't you? You’re playing the hero, defending Dinky from just how pathetic she is so that Ditzy will think you’re such a good Dad! You just want her to like you, don't you?!"

"Not another word, Scootaloo..."

"Or what?! Are you going to punish me? Are you going to put me in a dark corner and expect me to learn my lesson? You just want me out of the way like Mom did so you can get what you want! You want me gone so you can be alone with Derpy!"

With a final snarl Scootaloo’s words slashed through the air, rendering every one of them silent.

It was a silence broken by the hurried scream of surprise as Scootaloo, purple hair pulled taut, found herself firmly at the mercy of her livid father.

Sliding the compartment door closed with a free hoof, Sunny took special care to ensure his struggling cargo would have no possible egress route to escape what fate she had in store. His face remained impassive as ponies of various races and colors regarded his bucking and thrashing daughter as if she had been cursed, tainted by some infernal demon born in the depths of Tartarus itself. The eyes of fillies and colts were hidden away by the warm embraces of their parents to shield them from Scootaloo's example, though her struggling and her screams for freedom sounded out the horrible inevitability of their own future pains.

When the two of them passed those ponies still surreptitiously listening in, Sunny slammed open the first available compartment door and tossed his bucking ward unceremoniously on the nearest cushion. With a flutter of wings Scootaloo righted herself immediately, turning to face that stallion who, with every glare, only added to the righteous fire which kept her angry eyes alight.

"How dare you!" Sunny cried, his voice still ringing with power. "You have absolutely no right to make fun of your friend for her magic, and you most certainly have no right to insult Miss Ditzy for her condition! You were disrespectful, downright offensive, and you embarrassed not only yourself, but me as well! What's gotten into you, Scootaloo?"

"What's gotten into me?" Scootaloo barked, her aggressive stomp absorbed by the cushion on which she stood defiant. "What's gotten into you! Why did you invite them, Dad? We're on our way to see Mom and you invite her to come along? She doesn't belong here! She doesn't belong anywhere!"

"She belongs wherever she wants, Scootaloo! She can do as she pleases because she is an adult! You are a child, and you will do as I say!"

"Why?" Scootaloo snarled. "Why do I have to listen to anything you say? You can't just tell me what to do anymore! You left me alone to fend for myself, remember? You waited for years to come and find me! You can't just show up after the damage is done and expect me to obey!"

"You will obey, because I am your father," Sunny declared, his taut face just inches away from that of his equally furious daughter. "You will go out there and apologize. You will say you're sorry to both Dinky and Ditzy, and you will do it with a smile on your face. If you're not willing to do that, you will stay here and think about what you've done for the remainder of this train ride. Which is it going to be?"

"I'd rather stay," Scootaloo retorted with a growl. "At least that way, I can avoid whichever eye of hers decides to follow me around!”

"Stop that right now! I will not tolerate you insulting Miss Ditzy like that! She has enough prob—"

"Stop bucking calling her that!" Scootaloo bellowed, her voice and frame shaking uncontrollably as those raging demons within seized control. "You're talking about her as if you love her, and you don't love her! You’re not allowed to love her! We're alone, and nothing can change that! You can't just bring her into our family like this! SHE CAN'T REPLACE MOM!"

After a few moments of silence Scootaloo was able to seize control of the reins once more, and as her eyes opened she found her father dumbstruck.

"Is that what this is about?" Sunny whimpered, his watering eyes staring across the tiny chasm between himself and his child. "Are you afraid that I don't love Mom anymore? Do you think that I want to just... just throw her away? I would never do that, honey! I would never..."

"But that’s what you’re doing, Dad! That’s what’s happening, I can feel it! You're trying to turn her into Mom and she can't do that! She can't! She's just going to hurt us like Mom did!"

"I am not trying to turn her into your Mom, honey," Sunny stammered. "I'm just trying to be nice to them. She's been so kind to me in the past year with helping me get my life back on track! She deserves to be helped when she needs it, and it's the least I can do as a friend."

His answer was sweeter and easier to take than every other one of his excuses, but Scootaloo's bitter heart could find little reason to accept it. Her eyes had long been adept at seeing the truth of things, and her father was an easy pony to read.

Her and Dinky's playdates had always been supervised, but the two adults had never been apart. They always came together to pick the two of them up from school, always laughing... always close. Ditzy had always been smiling, when at first her wall-eyed gaze only looked at the dirt beneath her hooves.

His hooves had tapped continually during his stint upon the train platform, and just a few seconds ago she’d watched them stare at one another, blissful and empty, as if reminding the other of what future they might create... a future with two fillies to care for together.

A future that wasn’t hers to have.

The coincidences had long since trespassed into the realm of fact, but her father was too headstrong and lighthearted to notice. His daughter, however, had.

Reassuming her terrifying façade, Scootaloo's acerbic words trickled out from behind her teeth as the edges of her mouth recoiled in disgust.

"You're a liar. I see the way you look at her. I know what's going on. You care about what I think of her, enough to punish me for it when it wasn't what you thought! Don't lie to me anymore, Dad! You love her, but you're too afraid to tell me... aren't you?"

The rain now pounding on the windows outside was the only sound save the faintest traces of Scootaloo's labored breathing which could be heard. The bumping of the train as it danced across the tracks did little to shake the petrified stallion now staring blankly at his far-too-observant daughter, the filly holding his gaze equally still.

Shuffling his hooves, her father acknowledged his defeat with a slight ruffle of feathers and a nod.

"Yes, honey: I do. I really do... and I have for a while now. She was very kind to me when I first came here. She helped me get a job when I began taking care of us. She's been there for everything, and it's been a year since we've met. We became friends, and soon, as you and Dinky became close... we became a little closer.”

His heart sank when his daughter’s head fell under the weight of his truths, but no matter what he tried her head just sank lower and lower. Closing the gap, his pleading voice rallied itself in vain to bring her back around.

“It was inevitable, sweetie! It just... it just happened! She might seem aloof and clumsy sometimes, and I know her eyes are a little odd, but... but she’s just like you! She’s just as strong and courageous, and she adores you! She thinks you're a great influence on Dinky... or she thought, anyway..."

Catching his daughter's eyes as they cemented themselves to the cushions, Sunny was able to hold onto those little tender eyes just long enough to give his daughter a hopeful smile.

"I love your mother too, Scootaloo! A part of me always will, but she... she left us behind. It's been long enough, Scootaloo, and I'm tired of holding onto her. I can't do that anymore. It's not fair to me, to you, or to Miss Ditzy. We all need somepony we can rely on, somepony who cares for us as much as we do them. I thought your mother would be that pony for me... for us..."

Scootaloo's silence was enough of a reason to prompt more speech, but her continued rage would only taint what soft words she allowed herself to hear. Those hard eyes betrayed her machinations as her mind furiously ripped apart what her father said, waiting for her chance to pounce.

"I thought maybe Miss Ditzy would be a good fit," Sunny admitted with a shrug. "But I guess you need more time to warm up to her. I want you to like her like I do, honey, but you... you just don't understand, Scootaloo. You're too young to know what it feel like to love someone more than yourself and have them leave you behind. You don't know how it feels to—"

"To be abandoned?"

Her tiny words seized the moment to strike, ripping through that tender heart her father had exposed for the briefest of moments in one fell swoop. Reeling from her assault, there was little more the stallion could do but stammer and catch his dying words, watching them crumble away between his hooves as his daughter—his shining star—rebelled against him.

Rebelled, and emerged victorious.

Bowing his head, Sunny gave into his daughter with a final whisper. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I never meant to do that to you, and I hate myself for not being there to protect you. I never wanted that for you, honey... I never wanted you to be alone. I would give anything to take it all back! I would do anything for you! You know that, right? Please tell me you understand that, Scootaloo!... Scootaloo?..."

Silently trembling by the window, Scootaloo couldn't help but commiserate with the dying earth as the rainclouds hid away what light once lingered in the world. The faintest outline of her face and that of her father came to life to add some color to the scene, but it would never be enough.

It wouldn't make her feel any less hollow.

"Go away, Dad," Scootaloo whimpered. "Just... just go away."

Then, as her chin sank further into the growing cold of the windowsill, Scootaloo gave up entirely. There was nothing further she could do, and much like the world who cried with her there wasn't even the smallest trace of light to illuminate those glorious monuments upon which her happiness once stood. There was little left to do but stare as the world grew cold, the rain doing nothing but dampening her will to fight on.

Her father, sensing their shared capitulation, gathered the broken shards of his confidence and permitted his daughter her request, sending out a little thought in the hopes the daughter he loved would return to them in due time. Closing the door softly behind him, Sunny watched her through the glass as her temper slid out from her body, wrapped in the warmth of exhaustion and the lilting embrace of sleep.

She would be fine. All she needed was time.

The filly herself, eyelids still struggling for purchase, could keep on fighting no longer. That rebellious heart needed some time to relax, and a few hours of sleep would be more than enough time for those hurts to die out.

A few hours for her heart to settle before she wore it once more on her sleeve to honor the mare who'd given her life.

A few more hours to hate the mare who never came back.

A booming crackle of thunder and the blazing flare of brilliant white sliced through the forest undergrowth, shimmering and dancing through the falling raindrops as Scootaloo continued her climb. How long she had been straining her tiny muscles, she had no clue. She had no idea why the monumental pines around her and the ground below were soaking in the heavily falling rain, but she and her gear all remained bone-dry.

The only thing of which she was sure was that there, in the bald patch of land ahead, was where she would find her prize.

Emerging from the treeline into a verdant alpine glade, her buzzing wings alleviated the tension of her hooves as she zoomed her way forward, her adventurer's instincts scanning the field for any indication of disturbance. When none could be found, she began her search for her artifact with an easy sigh.

She scanned the fallen trees and various rotting stumps until the one which had been alluded to caught her eye. Her prize sprouted from atop a rotting nurse log, a stump festooned with tendrils of golden ivy which twisted and gnarled its way into a single flowering point. Upon this point, glimmering with dew and a natural opalescent sheen, grew her latest priceless find: a plant of such potent magical power and unspeakable value which made it the envy of every adventurer.

Even her mentor, the one and only Daring Do.

With a courageous step forward and a stretch of her wings, Scootaloo removed her hat to pay homage to the object of her search. Then, rising from her bow, she leaned forward to remove her bounty... but was stopped abruptly by the oddest of sounds.

"Thou knowest of the Moonflower, Scootaloo?"

With a shriek and recoiling stumble, the intrepid adventurer buzzed with alarm as the flower she'd moved to pluck pulsed with a grand light. Covering her eyes from the glare, Scootaloo curled herself against the fallen tree at her back as the blinding light filled the places her hooves couldn’t shield. When the brilliant aura had all but died away she chanced a glance at what remained of her prize.

The flower had disappeared, and in its place stood the proud form of Princess Luna.

Scrambling to her hooves as her latest guest stepped down carefully from her arboreal pedestal, Scootaloo prostrated herself before her princes before the warm touch of Luna's hoof bid her rise.

"Fear not, Scootaloo," Luna chuckled, her voice making the earnest effort to remain low and even. "We knew it could only have been you who would be looking for us. This is also our favorite of Daring Do's adventures. Her quest for the Moonflower was most enjoyable, but we are surprised you traded the story's jungle for the northwestern forests. You have been having these adventures often, have you not?"

Scootaloo gave her Princess a hurried nod before pausing.

How would she have known? Had she been spying on her many adventures over the past months?

"I have," Luna asserted as Scootaloo's previously concerned face lit up with fear.

"What?! Why?" Scootaloo stammered as her Princess dusted off the lingering dirt from her hooves. Feeling around for her hat and equipment, Scootaloo only grew more worried when neither could be found. "Why would you do that? I mean, I know it's your job and all to look into our dre—"

"Silence! Do not speak that word!" Luna shrieked, her diaphanous starlit hair fluttering under the sudden auditory onslaught. "Thou shalt not say that word, or else our purpose shall be for naught! Thou needest listen to thine Princess, for we have much to do and not much time."

"What purpose?" Scootaloo said, raising herself carefully. "What do we have to do?"

The Princess of the Night, adorned in her usual simple splendor, bowed down low to the quivering filly now bereft of her gear and those things which she had relinquished with her Princess's arrival. Even those timbers Scootaloo had flown past and had found her back firmly planted to slowly dissolved as Luna nodded in the direction of the slowly blanching sky. Scootaloo watched in amazement as the trail and trees from whence she’d come slowly faded away to reveal nothing but a blank and empty slate, one which grew whiter still until Luna’s midnight body filled up her view.

"We would like you to take a walk with us, Scootaloo," Luna said quietly. "We have seen the contents of your dreams and those of your father, and we believe you are prepared for a truth long hidden from you."

"I don't understand," Scootaloo muttered, her gaze refocusing on her Princess when the twigs and broken pine cones beneath her hooves faded into the starkness of their new white world. "What's going on? Where am I?"

Her tiny voice rang out and echoed through the vastness of her new environment, and as she turned around the dense pine forest and rocky mountains of her latest adventure slowly dwindled away to be replaced with a blinding white wall. Nothing could be seen, no shadows evident to mark the tangibility of this latest environment nor sounds save their slow hoofsteps as Princess and Subject admired the vast nothingness.

"This is my Dreamscape, Scootaloo," Luna stated proudly. "This is where you and millions of others are allowed to create your own worlds and allow yourselves your deepest fantasies. You share this space with all those who have come before you, and will relinquish it to those who follow. It is my one most special gift to Ponykind... one which neither you nor anypony will ever remember."

"Why not? Is it because I'm asl—"

A brief start from her Princess and a silver-shod hoof upon her lips urged the filly to hold her tongue. Luna, however, nodded her silent confirmation.

"Yes, Scootaloo. Our minds are fickle things and will believe whatever we say. When we are consciously aware of those words, we are able to control ourselves... but when you are as you are now, you have no such control. Your mind will fight when you require its submission, and you will be pulled away before our task can be completed. Not even I can bring you back from that, and thus I would ask you not speak those words."

Nodding her consent, Scootaloo looked out once more into the empty white void before returning to face her Princess.

"I still don't get it, Princess. Why are you showing me this if I won't remember anything? It seems like a waste of time."

"Is it?" Luna retorted, her gait slowing to match her subject’s. "Do your nighttime adventures die out once you are done living them, little one? Do they mean any less when you leave them behind? If they were wastes of time, would you be able to remember them?"

"Not really. I sort of remember every one of them..."

"Of course you do," Luna stated. "You remember them because they mean something to you. You have wished to be like Daring Do and our friend Rainbow Dash for a very long time. You wish to have their strength, courage, and power. You wish to share in their adventures, and as you wish: you leave a part of those desires behind for me, and others, to find."

Rounding on her subject, Luna bowed her head once more to catch her companion’s eyes before allowing her body to follow her down. Both Scootaloo and her Princess seated themselves on the ground below, the younger of the two regarding the floor beneath her in amazement as it grew far softer than those clouds of her own room.

"Other ponies, they... they find my wishes?" Scootaloo puzzled as her Princess drew in close.

"Not entirely. They only feel them... but what they do after that is far more important. Have you ever wondered why you dreamed so often of what your father would be like before he found you, or why he always looked different every time you saw him in your mind? You thought of him because he was somepony you desired, a hole which you wanted so desperately to be filled that your unconscious mind reached out to find him. What you never knew is that he was reaching out for you as well."

"Dad was dre... I mean, thinking of me?" Scootaloo exclaimed hopefully, her wings buzzing to life as her Princess gave her the warmest of smiles.

"He thinks of you still, Scootaloo. He's never stopped thinking of you: of what you have in store for your life, of what you did when he was away, and of what life you two have left to share until he passes on. He has dreamed much, and thus has left behind many things in this place... but there is another who has done the same. Knowest thou of whom I speak, Scootaloo?"

Adopting her royally demanding tone, Luna raised her head in her usual royal bearing. Squirming on the floor of their endless white universe, Scootaloo shivered slightly as the confidence those wings had emitted slowly fell back into hiding.

There could only have been one other, only one pony who would ever have given her a moment's pause.

She'd already given so many things away: a few days to leave her family, a few hours to find the closest dry eave under which to leave her child.

A few seconds of pen on parchment to sign her daughter's life away.

"Yes... I do know," Scootaloo snarled quietly as her head fell back towards the ground. Luna's head bowed once more to catch her companion's gaze, and as their eyes met Scootaloo regarded her Princess's soft words with hard eyes and a heavy heart.

"You are a brave little soul, Scootaloo. Even in the woods when you first experienced my dreamworld you showed little fear or hesitation. You touched my Dreamscape, and it rippled around your hoof. You have seen many things I had never intended anypony to see... but now, I will show you something beyond the comprehension of any mortal soul."

"What?!" Scootaloo stammered, looking about the emptiness once more. "What do you mean, 'beyond comprehension'? This makes perfect sense to me!"

"No, Scootaloo," Princess Luna stated evenly with a stomp of her hoof. "This space, this emptiness... this is not what I want you to see. I want you to see something which doesn't belong to you, but to someone else. It has remained here for many years, and it was intended that you would find it eventually. You never did, so now I mean to return it to you."

"What could you possibly have that's meant for me?"

Luna's smile grew almost imperceptibly as she rose from her seat upon the floor, prompting Scootaloo to do the same. Sweeping her hoof behind her, Luna stepped aside to allow her subject a glance at their first destination: a stark white door, knob-less and unadorned, which slowly materialized from the closest wall as the two approached.

"Is it not obvious, little one?" Luna said as her magic drew the door open to reveal a dazzling flash of sunlight. "I wish to show you a dream."

~~~~~

The world beyond their vantage point couldn't have been any brighter, for the midsummer sun above had the collected joy of Ponykind to bring itself renewed purpose. The clouds and whispering wind had no effect on the glory of the midday, nor did they impact the muffled din which snuck out from the sunlit expanse to make itself known. As Princess Luna and Scootaloo remarked upon the wondrous energy abounding on the air and the intricate design of the gazebo under which they stood, the filly reeled in surprise when her eyes encountered the glory of their nearest natural landmark.

"This is Winsome Falls! I was right here just a little while ago with Rainbow and the girls! I remember Rainbow and I won that race! I remember we flew together!"

"Indeed you did," Luna stated calmly. "But this place and the one where you flew all that time ago are far different. Do you notice anything peculiar?"

Casting a quick glance about her surroundings, Scootaloo lingered on those tiny changes which, until her Princess had mentioned them, had remained unnoticed.

"There used to be benches here," Scootaloo muttered, "and a little sign with information about the falls. What happened to them?"

"Nothing happened to them, Scootaloo," Luna asserted with a smile. "They just haven't been installed yet."

A few moments of silent comprehension rolled itself onwards for far longer than it should have been able, but Scootaloo’s lack of action was more than compensated for as her tiny voice exploded from her lips to sound out her sheer disbelief.

"We... we went back in time?! Holy cow, that's... that's impossible! That can't happen, Princess... that just can't! Ohmygoshohmygosh, this isn't happening... this isn't happening..."

"Relax, little one!" Luna exclaimed with a comforting stroke of her charge's rocking form. "We haven't gone back in time! The very notion is absurd to say the least, though our friend Twilight seems to disagree! Where we are instead is a memory, a recreation of another's dream. I have repaired it and brought it back to its original state, for it has long been abandoned in my Dreamscape."

"So we haven't gone back in time?" Scootaloo queried incredulously. "This is just a reconstructed memory of some random pony I've never met that we're somehow standing in?"

"Indeed. Does this make you feel better, Scootaloo?"

The awkward patting of her head by her less-than-omniscient Princess and a little huff prefaced Scootaloo’s snarky snicker of disapproval.

"Yeah. Loads."

"Splendid!" Luna exclaimed with a clip-clip of her hooves. "And with perfect timing! Here he comes now."

Craning her neck in vain over the nearby bannister, Scootaloo's attempts to gain altitude failed until Luna's warm magical embrace granted her a seat on the railing at her Princess's side. Waiting a few minutes more, the two of them eased their nervous hooves when the subject of their vigil slowly came into view.

The sunlight above, as dazzling as it was, was shamed by the pure brilliance of the stallion's silver coat and what wonderfully genuine imitation the stallion's fur had respectfully delivered. His lithe and agile hoofs bounced and danced over the underlying woodwork as he entered their shared structure, clip-clopping joyfully over the floorboards as he joined the two of them in their vigilant watch on the trail.

The wind played delicately with his soft vermillion mane, and as he brushed his hair back to allow the wind to kiss his face: Scootaloo found herself staring dumbstruck at the much younger, less haggard form of her father.

"That's my... what's... what's he doing here?" Scootaloo babbled as her father, unable to hear her, continued watching the world beyond.

"He is a central part of this memory," Luna explained with a nod. "He donated some of what lies within, but most is thanks to the pony to whom this memory belongs."

"And who does this memory belong to?”

Reeling from her subject in surprise, Luna’s pending explanation was answered instead by her shift in attention. Scootaloo, with a flap of her wings to give herself balance, craned her head around the nearest support beam to catch a glimpse of her Princess's answer.

And there, in a surge of anger and uncontrollable longing: Scootaloo turned to find a mare.

The pegasus walked alone, her wings spread wide to catch the heat and bring life back into her thin orange frame. The tight curl of her lilac hair bobbed alongside her neck with every hoofstep, adding a little weight to her airy flounce as she absorbed the life milling around her. Scootaloo soon found that her father beside her was watching the mare approach with a beaming smile on his face, and as she slowly made her way up the gazebo steps, Scootaloo couldn’t help but stare in wonder.

Her mother looked just like her.

Tucking her wings to her sides, the new arrival scraped the mud from her hooves before shooting a little grin at the stallion still remaining beside their intangible daughter. Then, as she swept away the dirt on the floorboards, Scootaloo’s father slid off his saddlebags to begin unloading what appeared to be a small parcel of food.

The mare took her time getting herself situated, cleaning the dirt and random detritus from her hooves before seating herself gingerly upon the ground, watching her partner as he unpacked their picnic. She eyed his movements carefully, considering each of his offerings before returning her gaze towards the bannister where her daughter, unbeknownst to her, was watching her in rapt attention.

She had the same frame, the same close cropped hair, the same youthful fire and sense of life which lingered just beyond her similarly-lavender eyes. Everything about her screamed out her soundness, her integrity, and her willingness to stay with her partner.

She grinned as if no earthly problem existed to distract her from the world she shared with her husband... as if she was eternally wrapped up in the comfort of his embrace even as she remained alone.

She couldn't have been her mother. She just couldn't be...

“She looks so... so...”

“Happy?” Luna whispered in reply, nodding along with her companion as the filly held her gaze. “She is happy, Scootaloo. Contrary to how you may feel, she was very full of life and love.”

“That can’t be true,” the filly snapped, shooting her Princess an unabashed glare. “She can’t be happy! Happy ponies stay with their families! Happy ponies don’t leave their children behind!”

“She has no family, Scootaloo,” Luna said with a shrug, nodding in the direction of the mare still eying her partner with interest. “At least, not in the way you think. She is an orphan like you believed yourself to be before your father found you. She is as estranged from her parents as you are from her. While she has your father and he has her, I would not consider her as having a real family... ”

“Then how can she be so happy?”

Luna’s smile grew wide as Scootaloo regarded her Princess in confusion. With a brief shimmer of her diaphanous hair, Luna returned her gaze towards the two ponies now snuggled together on their blanket to indulge in their meal.

“Watch, little one... just watch.”

Grumbling her consent, Scootaloo reaffirmed herself to boring holes into the foreign mare as she, with blissful abandon, reveled in the day which had been given her. The more Scootaloo stared, the more she looked for all those things her mother didn't deserve. All his love, his time, his offerings... all those thing she never returned.

But still she smiled, and beamed, and giggled when her lover gave his affection.

And still, despite everything, Scootaloo couldn't find anything but those traits they shared.

She was cautious with her food, taking the time to savor each bite to judge the quality of what she had been offered. She was wary of her partner, eying him cautiously to ensure that what she did was agreeable, much like what Scootaloo herself would do.

She trembled, despite the warmth of the day and the presence of her partner at her side. She selected only those foods she wanted and ate only a little, resisting the urge to eat any more. She adjusted her posture more often than usual, making sure to never place too much weight on her stomach.

She bit her lip in hesitation. She looked utterly terrified.

“Why is she so nervous?” Scootaloo queried, leaning her head towards her Princess. “She looks like she’s hiding something.”

“You are quite observant, little one,” Luna whispered. “She is indeed hiding something. Can you guess what she might be thinking about?”

Pondering for a moment as her father’s voice droned on with a little buzz, Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders when nothing came to light.

“Is she planning on leaving him? It wouldn’t be the first time...”

“No, Scootaloo. You judge too quick, just like she does. Does she look as if she wants to leave your father? Does she look as if she feels anything but love for him?”

Regarding her parents once more, Scootaloo found no slivers of doubt, infidelity, confusion, or hatred in their eyes. They regarded each other as if they were the only two ponies in the world... as if each were the focal point around which the other pony’s life orbited. As her argument's foundation crumbled, Scootaloo couldn’t help but shrug.

“I guess not...”

Stamping her hoof lightly on the gazebo floor, Princess Luna gave her subject a little grin.

"Exactly. Despite how you may feel about her, your mother loved your father dearly. She loved him enough to stay by his side during his first term of service in Equestria's military, suffering long nights of worry and doubt while he was away. Today was his final day before being sent to the Western border to stand his guard, and thus, naturally: they spent it together."

"If that's the case, then why is she so afraid?" Scootaloo demanded, her little voice rippling out around the structure though her parents, lost in the others' eyes, would never hear her. Staring in confusion at the two adults seated across from one another, Scootaloo remained set on her argument even as Luna remained quiet.

But then, ever so slowly, her parents ceased speaking. The mare bowed her head while her partner regarded her sudden change in tone with confusion, his pleading voice still muffled and hidden away. His attempts to offer his assurance were in vain, for the weight of her thoughts had finally exceeded her capacity.

She allowed herself a brief moment to play with her love's hooves before releasing a little whisper, glancing hopefully at her husband in the process.

Sunny froze, his face devoid of life as his wife's head sheepishly rose from her bow. Glancing from his wife, to her hooves, towards her stomach, and then finally back to meet her eyes, he complemented his muffled stammer of confusion and disbelief with a hopeful tear. The more he stared, the closer his hoof became to the mare’s breast, and as each painfully slow second passed his eyes lit up with wonder and gut wrenching expectation.

The mare did nothing but beam with pride, hold his hoof closer, and give him a little nod.

Scootaloo and Luna waited with bated breath as Sunny continued to stare lovingly at his wife, his smile wide in mixed amounts pride, confusion, disbelief, and heartfelt elation. The seconds ticked away as the mare, her previous timidity cast aside, sat herself up proudly for his inspection as if honored at her ability to render him completely petrified.

She remained proud and courageous even as her loving husband pulled her from her seat upon the ground and enveloped them both in his wings, just like he had Scootaloo on the day of their reunion.

That smile which had hidden itself away for the tensest of moments erupted from the mare's face as she was pulled atop her husband, the two of them holding the other as if the world itself would soon rip them apart. Hidden away by a dazzle of silver wings, husband and wife, alone in the gazebo, sang out their joy and their elation for their sudden change in circumstance. Laughing uproariously and crying out his shock, Sunny could do little more than kiss and gingerly squeeze his beaming wife, the mare herself hiding her face away along the side of his neck to shield her joyous tears from prying eyes.

The sudden shift in motion and utter reversal of tone left Scootaloo speechless. As the moments passed, nothing but joy and heartfelt love came to life between the two ponies who, unbeknownst to them, would endure so much heartache in the near future. All they could do was stare at one another, wiping away the others' tears, taking special care not to touch or place any pressure on the mare’s stomach.

It was such an odd behavior, but Sunny had held off on squeezing his wife too hard. Even as they sat cradling one another, he was paying so much attention to her chest and belly, almost as if his wife were injured internally... almost as if something was wrong with her.

Maybe it wasn’t for her that he was being cautious.

In a flash of cognizance and the briefest moment of acknowledgement, Scootaloo found herself staring deep at her mother’s heart.

And the little foal’s heart which beat alongside it.

"She... she was..." Scootaloo stammered, unable to find the correct words before Luna finished her sentence for her.

"Yes, Scootaloo... she was pregnant with you. She was going to have their baby, and had only known for a little while that it would be so.”

Looking between her Princess and her mother, Scootaloo’s jaw fell with the little fact that there was not one, but two Scootaloos in this very structure. One of them remained petrified on the bannister, listening in silence as her Princess explained their actions...

... But its doppelganger, newly blessed with life, remained protected beneath a flutter of silver wings and in the caress of a gorgeous, kind, and blissfully happy new pegasus mother-to-be.

“You mean, I’m... I’m in there right now?!”

“Indeed you are, little one. As of now you have a heartbeat and body, but not much more. You are still growing within your mother, and thus your father is taking special care not to harm you. I think it is obvious that, even before you were born: your parents loved you with all their hearts.”

As Scootaloo returned her attention to her parents still tenderly holding one another, she couldn’t help but smile as the flickering tendrils of her imagination went wild with the idea of her form taking shape. Within the next few months her head and body would sprout from her little chest, followed by her little legs and her great round lavender eyes. Everything would take shape and grow, twisting and bending to form the filly she was now... the filly that the two of them, right there before her, had made!

Soon, she would be born! Soon, with their help, Scootaloo would come into the world, every part of her strong and full of energy!

Every part but her wings.

Casting a sideways glance at the little feathered stubs sprouting from her back, Scootaloo gave her attention once more to the Princess now levitating her back towards the ground. Permitting the couple nearby some room to celebrate their shared accomplishment, Luna gave a little smile to share her pride with the filly before her.

Scootaloo’s gaze remained unbreaking on her parents, but once their mouths opened to buzz soundlessly once more there was little left to see. Everything which needed saying had already been addressed.

With a shared nod towards the pounding falls beyond, Scootaloo fell into step beside her escort. The whipping of the wind fluttered the outermost pinion feathers jutting out awkwardly from her own little knubs, and as it did Scootaloo shifted them into a more comfortable position.

They had never fit right or cooperated properly. They had never even had enough power to do that one thing pegasi were supposed to do!

What good were wings if they couldn't fly? What good was she if she couldn’t?

“You question why your wings don’t work, don’t you?”

Ripping through the silence like a knife, Luna’s voice sounded out her curiosity as her charge remained silent. Then, with a sad nod, Scootaloo gave her silent confirmation.

“She just looked so healthy! She didn’t look deformed like me! They both looked fine and they both had big wings! If they were both healthy, why am I so weak? I thought things like that were passed down from Moms and Dads to their children...”

“Most times they are,” Luna whispered, “but sometimes things happen which change how a filly or a colt adopts those traits. Sometimes, things don't always go as planned. There is much you have left to see, and thus we must leave this memory for another. Please, we haven’t much time...”

Stopping momentarily before the base of the crashing waterfall, the world grew silent once more as another door, this one similar in size and color to the one before, slid soundlessly from the water to beckon them onwards towards another destination.

Pushing open the door with a free hoof, Scootaloo took another deep breath of courage before taking one great step forward into the dark unknown. Giving her Princess a few moments to catch up, Scootaloo chanced one final glance at the tender kiss shared between two soon-to-be parents in love before Luna closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the darkness.

~~~~~

There was little visible from where the two of them stood save the crushing darkness of their present environment and the pounding of a winter tempest outside. Scootaloo leaned in closer to listen to whatever sound might come forth to illuminate just where—or when—they were, and as she did a solitary light flickered momentarily in the hallway above.

Casting her shadow upon her Princess and her daughter, Scootaloo’s mother peered warily down the dark stairwell in which the three of them stood. When all was safe, the mare cautiously tiptoed her way downstairs, brushing past the intangible form of her daughter as she did.

This mare couldn’t have been the same one, for her belly was far larger and her face was lined with deep crevasses which hadn’t existed when last they’d seen her. This mare didn’t have her husband’s strength to keep her secure, and what energy she had seemed to be stolen away as she staggered into the nearest room, holding herself upright with outstretched wings.

Rounding the corner and flicking on the nearest light, Scootaloo regarded her mother’s frame in surprise: she was bowed and bent, buckling under the weight of her belly and her current loneliness... but her face held upon it no flicker of anger or loathing for her current state.

She didn't appear to regret that fortuitous circumstance she'd celebrated just seconds prior, even if she sacrificed her body and her youth in the process. Beneath the layer of pain, she was still tranquil... calm... happy.

There must have been a certain kind of strength in that.

Stepping quietly into a nearby room, Scootaloo followed in the hoofsteps of her Princess as Luna approached the subject of their newest memory.

“Your mother left this behind some months after your father left for his duty in the West,” Luna whispered, keeping her voice and her head low. “This memory was still easy to repair, but it was especially worn when I found it.”

“What do you mean, ‘repair?’” Scootaloo replied, gazing around the corner of the door frame to watch her mother cautiously. “Why can’t you just replay them as they are?”

“There is a very fine line between memories and dreams, Scootaloo. Sometimes the edges need maintenance for them to be usable.”

Nodding her understanding, Scootaloo returned her gaze to her mother to find her tearing frantically through the kitchen, the muffled ringing of jettisoned pots and pans breaking through the quiet of the room. With a brief pause and a flurry of feathers, the mare jumped up to attempt to scour the overhanging cabinets, but as she stretched forwards her face lanced through with excruciating pain. Falling to her hooves and catching her elbow on the counter, the mare twisted her frame to come down hard upon her back, clutching her belly to ensure the little foal within was protected.

“What is she doing?!” Scootaloo exclaimed with a little jump towards her mother. Her progress was halted, however, as Luna held her in her place.

“She is very heavy with child... with you. You are still growing in her chest, and now you are too heavy for her to take flight. One of the pains of being a pegasus mother, I believe. As you grow heavier, the energy needed to carry you is growing as well. She must take care not only of herself, but of you... and with protection comes feeding.”

“I’m eating in there?!” Scootaloo gasped, cocking her head in disbelief.

“No, little one,” her Princess chuckled. “You cannot properly eat as you are now. Your mother has been eating for you both, and you are getting your food through her. She is struggling to do this, as she cannot leave the house lest she falls and injures you. She struggles now to find enough food to keep you warm, for the night is dark and with the darkness comes the cold. Take a look at the cabinets, Scootaloo, and tell me what you see.”

Obeying the command of her Princess, Scootaloo peered around the still-active form of her mother to find no food, dry or otherwise, of which to speak.

“There’s not a whole lot here, is there?”

“Indeed, Scootaloo,” Luna replied solemnly. “There is not much left, for she underestimated how much you would eat and how much she would require to keep you both fed. She works now to feed only you, using what food she has saved. You have always been a hungry little filly, haven’t you?”

Shuffling her hooves, Scootaloo afforded her Princess a tearful nod, sliding her hooves over the salty evidence of her guilt.

“Now now, do not despair!” Luna whispered, seating herself down beside her quivering charge. “You are not to blame for this! There is nothing wrong with how you were as an infant, and I know that she doesn't mind going hungry to see you grow up big and strong. I know she would do it all again, if given the chance...”

“Why?! Why would she starve herself like this for me? Why doesn’t she be selfish and eat for herself? That’s what she is, right?”

Recoiling in shock, Luna's smile went sour as she stared at Scootaloo, her eyes fringed with disappointment.

“You aren’t paying attention, Scootaloo, like I told you to! Do you not see why she is doing as she is now? Do you not see what’s going on in your mother's life? You were brought here for a purpose, little one, and I expect you to pay attention when I demand it of you!”

Trembling under her Princess’s sudden assault, Scootaloo’s tears resurfaced as she turned her attention back towards the floor. Sweeping the filly against her side with an outstretched wing, Luna cradled her charge once more, her sudden warmth easing Scootaloo's trembling and smoothing over the rough edges of her admonition.

“I’m sorry, Scootaloo,” Luna muttered. “I didn't mean to raise my voice. You must understand why you were brought here, but your stubbornness is making that very difficult to do. Please, little one, what questions you have will be answered. You must be observant, that’s all.”

Brushing the last of her tears from her cheeks, Scootaloo turned herself around from within her Princess’s wing to face the mare now portioning out her midnight meal. Standing on her hindlegs, the mare carefully measured two even cups of warm milk in a small bowl before pouring one of the halves back into the jar from whence it came. Then, doing the same with the oats at her side, she combined the two into a gloppy mess of which Scootaloo was more than familiar.

Despite its simplicity, it was her favorite meal.

"Looks like that's where I get it from," Scootaloo chuckled, her voice still lined with the last of her tears. Grinning at her subject, Luna returned the laugh with one of her own, watching the filly at her side as Scootaloo remarked on her mother's behavior with wonder.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. It is a well known fact that those foods which the mother eats are those which their children enjoy. I might be mistaken, however, and that instead those foods you want are those she feels compelled to eat."

"Does that mean I'll like wine too... when I'm old enough to drink it, I mean?"

Redirecting her gaze to meet Scootaloo's questioning stare, Luna's silence betrayed her brief flicker of hesitation. Scootaloo quivered yet again when no ready response came, and as her regent found her words her motion to speak was cut off by a loud pop from the kitchen.

Turning her attention back towards Scootaloo's mother, Luna froze and turned deathly cold.

"Perhaps," Luna whispered as the mare poured herself a healthy glass of her favorite vintage.

The answer sufficient for the time being, Scootaloo watched her mother intently as the mare alternated bites of her nutritious porridge with equally healthy swigs of her glass. Soon, she was refilling her glass as her meal sacrificed its heat in vain.

"Why do adults drink that stuff, anyway?" Scootaloo queried, her head cocking to the side as her mother downed another brimming cup of wine. "It doesn't taste very good. Dad let me try some once, and it was pretty bitter..."

Turning towards her Princess, Scootaloo could find no lighthearted shimmer in Luna's eyes to illuminate their shared levity. She could only stare silently as her Princess gave her quiet response, her eyes remaining fixed on the mare at the table all the while. Scootaloo's ears perked when Luna began to speak... but no warmth or sense of life hid behind her words.

She was as cold as the winter night which raged just out of sight.

"Ponies drink wine to make themselves feel better, little one. It helps take their burdens off when they just can't handle them anymore. Sometimes they drink to remember happier times long past, but most often they drink to forget."

"What is she trying to forget?" Scootaloo asked cautiously, eyeing her Princess in confusion. With a shrug, her Princess gave her almost-silent reply.

"Your father."

"But," Scootaloo stammered, rounding on her Princess. "But I thought she loved him! I thought they were happy just a few minutes ago!"

"She does, and she still is," Luna supplied with a stroke of the filly's wing. "She is in pain right now, Scootaloo. She cannot hold you for long, for you are almost ready to come into this world. She hurts because she misses your father, and she is afraid of what might happen to him while he is away in a place where she can't follow. It is a pain most hollow, but the wine fills up the spaces until it's almost as if he never left."

Gingerly stroking the little orange wing at her side, Luna cautiously regarded her distracted subject before allowing herself a sad smile and a few moments to be weak.

"She lost herself, honey. She lost sight of what was important in her life, of her love for your father... of you. She needed to feel strong and in control, even if only for a little bit..."

Scootaloo, having finished counting the empty bottles in the bin beside the door, returned her attention to her Princess, catching her last few words and pouncing on them with her usual youthful energy.

"Well, oatmeal is good for that, right?" Scootaloo chirped, beaming as her mother finished what was left of her glass before choking down the last of the almost-forgotten oatmeal. "Dad always say’s there’s nothing better to keep you healthy. I bet she'll be feeling better in no time!"

Nodding her silent assent, Luna allowed herself a tear as those tiny wings flickered with pride for the mare who'd created them in her breast.

The mare who'd poisoned them right from the start.

"Yes, Scootaloo," Luna whispered, playing with the filly's hair for a brief moment. "She won't be in pain anymore... not for long."

Leaning into her Princess's affectionate touch, Scootaloo shot Luna her trademark look of courage. There was nothing to fear, for the oatmeal and wine in her mother's belly would keep them both warm and fed until her father came home. He could have been on his way right now, for all any of them knew!

Soon, her mother wouldn't need to drink her wine to fill up those empty spaces. Her Dad would come home they would both have their Scootaloo to take care of and love!

All she had to do was wait. All she had to do was hold on for a little while longer, and soon everything would be okay.

"It's time to leave, sweetie," Luna muttered, stroking her subject's hair one more time before turning to leave.

Scootaloo remained for another brief moment as her mother stared quietly across the emptiness of the room. What warm pools of blissful memories must she be swimming in to keep her and her baby warm through the night! The food in her belly, the wine, the love she still felt somewhere deep down... they would be enough to keep them both warm, no matter what tempest raged outside or within!

Leaving her mother with one last parting smile, Scootaloo turned to follow in the hoofsteps of her monarch, closing the ethereal door behind her as she passed.

~~~~~

The darkness hovering all around them slowly slid away to reveal a long stretch of white linoleum and a glare of fluorescent light. Casting her gaze around the hallway which had materialized from the aether, Scootaloo gasped in recognition of just where they were.

"This is the Ponyville Hospital," Scootaloo said, stepping lightly out of the way of an advancing wheelchair. "Dad took me here once when I fell off my scooter... but it didn't look like this."

"I doubt it would," Luna stated evenly. "Many things have changed between then and now. Science, medicine, magic... there have been many leaps and bounds in our collected knowledge to keep ponies healthy. There is much that is common knowledge now which was not when you were born."

"You mean today, right?"

Starting a little at her subject's appraisal of the situation, Luna beamed in appreciation.

"Indeed, Scootaloo! You are listening and paying attention as you have been asked! I am most grateful, and I hope that things are beginning to make sense."

"Almost. I still don't get why she left, though. Everything we've seen has been happy in a way: she was excited to tell Dad I was going to be born, and she was happy when she was eating and drinking for me. What went wrong?"

"Your mother, she..."

Luna's reticence was almost hidden away by the stillness of their environment, but as the moments passed that silence stood out alone from the otherwise roaring din of the hospital hallway. Scootaloo allowed her Princess a few moments to collect her thoughts, her dying curiosity flaring with Luna's all but hidden words.

"She was very scared, little one. You were her first... her only... and she didn't know what to expect with your delivery or the pain it would entail. Her parents wouldn't help her, and her husband couldn't do anything but pray that she would be safe. I did my best to watch her dreams and honor his request, but I cannot change fate."

Turning the corner to trot down another hallway, Scootaloo smiled when the image of her father, haggard and tired, tapped his hoof nervously beside a nearby door. Marveling at the medals and various badges adorning his bedraggled uniform, Scootaloo couldn't help but feel proud for those hidden accomplishments her ever-modest father had hidden away from her.

"He looks pretty handsome," Scootaloo said with a smile. "It looks like he could use a shower though.”

“He hasn’t had the time, Scootaloo,” Luna remarked as she joined the soldier beside the door. “He has only just come home from his tour of duty, and soon, in a little while: he will be called once more to serve. For now, though, he thinks only of you."

The softness of the filly's eyes only grew as her Princess detailed the ponderings of the dirty, nervous, anxious, and wholeheartedly terrified Sunny now anxiously biting his lip. Scootaloo's hoof upon his knee had no immediate impact, but the more she lingered there the deeper and more even his breaths became.

What tension lingered in his face gave way as their seconds of inanimate contact passed, but came back with startling force as the door beside him opened to herald a beige unicorn doctor.

Even in the absence of sound, Scootaloo heard his silent screams that something was wrong.

Her mother was in danger.

With a hurried explanation and a furtive glance towards the operating table, the doctor, his brow furrowed, shepherded the exhausted soldier within. In a flash Scootaloo followed close behind, her tail whisking past the edges of the door as the heavy frame closed.

Luna remained, alone in the hallway.

This was one thing Scootaloo would have to face alone.

~~~~~

Casting aside his uniform, Sunny allowed himself to be dressed and scoured of outside bacteria before following close behind the doctor. The medical pony, his face stained with sweat, explained their situation and the mare's condition... pleading in vain for rationality and a level head.

His voice was unheard by both father and daughter, for another screamed far louder than he.

Forms and waivers fluttered on magic-bound clipboards, each stamped with the dirty inked hoof of a desperate husband. Each form slipped out of sight and mind, every page one last honing stroke of the scalpel... each page one less barrier between him and his screaming wife, her belly distended still.

Scootaloo, locked on the floor, watched silently as her father, with infinite courage, leapt to his love’s side. She stood her guard as the world erupted with activity, petrified as her eyes regarded the silence of the Dreamscape and the flurry of terrifying foreign sounds which denoted the existence of an otherworldly pain.

She could only watch as her mother, her voice ragged and torn, surrendered to the torment of her body's rebellion and gave in as she never had before.

Her mother’s muffled screams of agony pierced through the buzzing emptiness of her world, sounding out the mare's begs for leniency or those few last hopes which might snuff away the pain.

But no respite came... no response from on high. Only more pain. Only more terror.

Only more howls of torment as tissue tore and muscles bent against her will. Only more blood as some fundamental piece of the puzzle ripped apart to release its crimson ichor upon the table. Only more confusion and distress the moment those trained professionals looked upon the situation and found no training had prepared them for this.

Only the brave actions of their beige escort as he rallied the others to re-assume their duties, to find courage in their callings and make manifest their training to save the life of the exsanguinating mare before them.

Only the quiet calming words of a husband so long detached from his better half, their eyes locked for the briefest of moments before medicine conquered physiology to hide them apart from one another once more.

A nod of approval and a warm smile to beckon the surgeon onwards.

Her apology disguised in a tear, lost in the noise and the strength of her lover's strong façade.

The surrender of a mare to the knife slowly carving her belly apart.

An eternity hidden away behind the form of her father. A lifetime of focused work for a few professional souls while the other two hearts did nothing more than wait and hope, watching their love's hoof to give some indication as to the mare's continued existence.

Minutes passed... hours... days. A miniature lifetime of silence.

And then, when not a sound could be heard nor a glimpse seen of her mother's fate, when the activity ceased and her father's face fell...

Wings. Tiny orange wings.

Such broken little things.

A renewed scream, this one far more shrill, far less in pain. It rang with confusion, distress... necessity. It begged to be answered, screamed for an explanation.

A tiny orange hoof extended out into the great unknown for some safe harbor, somepony who would explain just what was going on, why the lights above were so blinding... just why this new world was far louder and far colder than the one prior.

A question acknowledged as little hoof stroked the supple, sweaty chin of a mare whose pain evaporated with a flutter of her daughter's eyelids.

A paradise found as mother and daughter looked upon one another for the very first time.

In silence, both Scootaloos drifted away in the warmth and light of their mothers' eyes. There was nothing more infinite, more intimate... more revelatory. Scootaloo was here, right now, sharing this moment! She was seeing that spark of wonder set fire to that devotion her Princess had promised! Her mother was so... so... breathtaking! So beautiful!

That looks in her eyes... Scootaloo had seen it before.

It had been cavorting behind her mother’s closed eyelids as she'd given herself to her husband's embrace, hidden away from the view of a blissful sun behind a wooden lattice roof and the crashing of liquid color.

It had nursed its wounds as the mare stroked her belly in the kitchen, foregoing comfort for safety as she ensured her daughter... her little world... was in far less pain than she.

It had just now reemerged from the aftermath of her living hell, twinkling through her eyes to give some evidence that there still remained a sliver of hope... a chance at redemption from the tiny foal whose cries rang out to herald a new lifetime of opportunity.

This look... this little look...

Her father had that look the second he'd seen her, the second he forfeited his heart to his daughter’s strikes, her screams, her fury...

Her love.

Now, in the absence of anger and doubt, summarized with the flutter of newborn wings and a happy gurgle, Scootaloo looked upon the face of that bleeding, sweating, crying mare and found nothing more than utter love, simple and honest...

A love just for her.

The sounds of her husband’s pleading cries for an explanation, the doctor’s reticence... those things had no substance, so lost was she in those nigh-identical eyes that her husband's fury went unacknowledged.

His tears of frustration and guilt, his firm hoofstrokes upon her head, his appraisal of his fragile, broken child... all of those horrors which had been born into the world alongside his daughter...

Gone.

Lost in the spaces between the mare who loved, with all of her being, the child she had ruined...

And the Scootaloos who loved her back.

Falling to the floor, hidden away from sight and sound, Scootaloo watched in awe as her tiny newborn self giggled happily in the warm embrace of their mother’s arms. The two exhausted ponies, blissfully lost and ignorant of their bloody state, remained apart from the heated discussion which erupted around them.

They remained deaf as the obstetrician chose his words wisely, as deformity was given origin, and as trust crumbled in the eyes of a broken soldier to whom loyalty was no transient luxury.

Her mother, her wonderfully warm mother, couldn’t hear a thing, lost as she was in her daughter’s beautiful eyes.

The filly on the floor, however, heard everything: every theory of how the wine's warmth had weakened her bones, how her body had marinated for too long in that numbing poison which her mother had slowly become addicted to. Every unknown variable and every hypothesis, every lie to hide the severity of her mother's actions or make smooth the horrible future this broken child had in store. Every fact of those crucial stages described in careful detail, every reason excused and forgotten with every repetition of 'she didn't know... she didn't know...'

She didn't know. None of them knew.None of them had a clue.

Only the filly who raised her head to face them all, her confidence trembling as much as she was. Her tiny wings bristled with fear when her eyes reopen to find herself seated before the vast abyss of her hidden horrors.

Scootaloo stared defiant into the infinite eyes of that shadowy terror pulled from the depths of doubt and the darkest corners of her father's mind to snarl for eternity with bared teeth. That truth reared its head in victory over that crippled pile of feathers that weak, pathetic, deceptive mother had cast out from her inhospitable belly, gnashing its teeth with a vicious intent.

It sounded its purpose for its audience of one: that filly quivering under the weight of its veracity and the fear which had finally been born into the world.

Her mother's love had brought those wings into existence.

And it was with that love that they had been broken for all time.

Her father remained beside his love, stroking the head of the mare who’d brought his daughter into the world... the mare who still loved her little broken Scootaloo, no matter what dreams had been smashed the moment that child had cried out for the two of them in the darkness.

He loved her even though the life he’d placed within her had been slowly twisted and tainted by the wine spent pleading for his return and the seconds spent distracting herself from the pain as she begged for a brief flicker of hope.

Just a little sign that everything would be okay in this great, big, dirty world.

A sign that had never been given.

All those prayers she had sent, all those hopes and dreams she had lost... they had all been left behind in this one place that Scootaloo now stood: this vast repository of nameless dreams of which her Princess was the caretaker.

The caretaker who watched her mother suffer, acknowledged her pain, watched that baby contort and shrivel in her mother’s womb...

And did nothing.

~~~~~

Stumbling through the door from whence she’d come, Scootaloo’s distracted mind gave her enough notice of her Princess and enough control to direct her movements to the base of Luna’s monumental frame. They gave her enough foresight to acknowledge the consequences of her actions, but not nearly enough control to prevent her tiny hoof from slamming with a violent force into the ceremonial yoke of her very own Princess.

“You," Scootaloo whimpered to the floor as her Princess remained unmoving. "You... you knew everything. You knew for... for all this time. Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me, Luna?!"

"Thou art still a child, Scootaloo. We didn't think you were ready for this."

"That's not your decision to make!" Scootaloo howled, slamming her hoof once more into the ornate armor of her nocturnal monarch. "You should have told me what she did! You should have told me everything! That's what you do: you're a Princess, and Princesses care about their subjects! They don’t ignore their cries for help! She... she broke me, Luna... and you just sat there and let her!"

"Watch thy tongue, child!" Luna barked with a thunderous stamp of her hoof. "Thou art speaking to a Princess, and we will be damned before we allow a commoner to speak to us as such! You may be our guest in our Dreamscape, but that does not make you our equal!"

"You're right, it doesn't," Scootaloo snarled. "It makes you a liar."

As the Princess of the Night regarded her treasonous charge, the hardness of the linoleum squares slowly metamorphosed into the softness of morning grass... a rapid juxtaposition which left the filly stunned far faster than the bleaching of her Princess’s eyes could ever have accomplished. Those climate controlled halls relinquished all vestiges of their former warmth as the wind grew wild in the trees slowly materializing overhead.

That same wind roared with power and malevolence as Luna snarled viciously in the face of her charge, rising slowly into the air without a single flap of her wings.

Borne aloft on the power of magic and immortal fury alone.

"How darest thou defy me!" Luna's voice boomed out, cacophonous and clear. "Knowest thou not who we are... of what power we possess? Do you believe yourself superior to thine own Princess, the one who has lived for more lifetimes than you will ever know? Thou hast made a mockery of thine monarch, whelp! Other ponies would die for such an act!"

"You've already murdered me, Luna!" Scootaloo screamed, her face unmoving save the tear which slashed down her cheek to join the others. "You killed me the second you let her suffer, the moment you ignored her cries for help! You said yourself you watched her dreams, but you never stopped her from... from..."

"That is not our place, child. We are tasked with maintaining Harmony and ruling all beings with fairness and equality, not tailor our governance for the benefit of one treasonous brat!"

"Am I the traitor?" Scootaloo howled at her Princess bobbing silently in the air. "Am I the one who did anything wrong? She was afraid, and you left her to suffer alone! You just left her to wither and die with me inside her! She loved me, and you just let her destroy herself!"

"We had no choice, little one," Luna stated evenly, her magnified voice still ringing with power. With a few beats of her wings she cast off the terrifying echoes of her Nightmare state to reclaim that royal bearing she had abandoned, stepping forward cautiously as Scootaloo quivered on the ground. "It is not our place to intercede in the affairs of our subjects. Harmony cannot be mandated: it must be born and nurtured like you. Your mother was blind to her actions because of her ignorance. How could she have known, when most of Ponykind did not? What could I have done, trapped on the Moon as I was?"

"You could have said something!" Scootaloo whimpered, selfishly holding back those tears she'd long hidden from her Princess. "You could have saved me, Luna! You could have protected me! You... you could've..."

Gasping for air, the little pegasus' stomach rebelled against her fiery resolve, buckling first under the anguish while the rest of her system remained upright. That vengeful organ kicked and screamed and pleaded to be shown some mercy, and as the gates opened Scootaloo obliged her body its surrender.

Even Luna with her ageless bravery shivered as her tiny crippled charge, quaking uncontrollably, screamed into the long grass beneath her little form, rustling the leaves in the trees and even the earth below with her wails of torment. Clenching under the pain, Scootaloo seized and tore at the ground, her hooves fighting for purchase as her core, her drive, her tiny little heart crunched and flexed uncontrollably.

Those little feathered knubs that filly had seen born into existence shook and clenched in pain as their caretaker howled out her loneliness, her excruciating misery, her little nightmares which sapped their power from the darkest corners of her memories to add power to her screams into the grass. Not even the light pull from her side as her Princess drew her close nor the chill of the whipping wind were recognized, so lost was the little one that no light or peaceful reverie would draw her from the hollowness of her abandonment.

Whimpering and sputtering as the last of those horrors seeped slowly from her body, Scootaloo shuddered for a moment when the previously icy form of her Princess grew unbearably warm against her side. What frigidity Scootaloo had bought to life to linger between them melted slowly away as her Princess, as calm as the moon for which she cared, whispered softly into her ear.

"You have suffered much in your short years, and more than anypony whom I have ever known: I am proud of you. I am so very, very proud of you, Scootaloo... but your mother was far more proud of you than I. There was nothing she wouldn’t have done for you. She gave her life for you. She bled for you, cried for you, cared for you above herself when all hope was lost..."

“N-n-no she d-didn’t!” Scootaloo howled shakily, sacrificing the last of her tears for the grass below. “S-she never said g-g-goodbye to me! She d-didn’t stay with m-me! Why couldn’t she stay? W-why couldn’t she l-l-love me?”

Pausing for a moment, Luna, in her infinite warmth, ushered the chin of her whimpering companion upwards until both stared unabashedly into the other's tearful eyes.

"Listen closely, my dear," Luna whispered with a light nuzzle of the filly's forehead. "Your mother never left you behind. She carried you always, for you were always there in her thoughts, in her hopes... in her dreams. I watched them all, every single one, and never have I seen more love in a pony’s heart. Never have I seen more life and light, nor more blissful dreams about your future or memories of your moments together."

Wiping away the last of the filly's tears, Luna granted her charge a little smile before raising them both from their seat upon the grass below.

“She gave her life for you when she could no longer take care of you. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do so, and thus she allowed you to be taken in by those who could. She may have given you up, but it was so that you might live when she could only promise you a life of sadness and despair. You may see this as a weakness, and that opinion can be the one you wish to remember her by... but give her one last chance, Scootaloo. Give her the same opportunity she gave you.”

As they rose, the final door slid silently from the emptiness of her Princess’s Dreamscape... but as Scootaloo tiptoed forward her guardian remained behind. Luna remained planted to the grassy vale in which they had lingered, as silent as the trees which loomed behind her and as motionless as the filly who cried alone before her final destination.

“Aren't... aren't you coming with me?” Scootaloo whimpered, her voice still as weak as the filly herself was. With a few steps forward, Luna joined her companion beside the final door, affording Scootaloo one last smile of courage.

“No, little one. I must remain here, for what you have been given is yours alone. This is the last of your mother’s memories, the final thing she left behind for me to find. It belongs to you now, and it will be yours forevermore... but it is only for you to see.”

“No! Please, Luna, don’t leave me!” Scootaloo howled, pouncing on her monarch to bury herself against the warmth of her Princess’s breast. “I can’t do this alone! I can’t see her again! I know I can’t, I just know it!”

“You can, little one... I know you can do it,” Luna whispered tenderly. “You're brave enough for this. You are so very brave, little one. You know it to be true, and your mother knew it too.”

“No I’m not! I’m not brave... I can’t be brave! I’ve never been able to do it on my own! I’m afraid, Luna! Please, please come with me! Please don’t leave me behind! I don’t want to be alone!”

Stroking the head of her brave little ward, Luna caught Scootaloo’s watery eyes and bowed her head to rest upon that of her companion.

“You are never alone, little one. No one is ever truly alone when someone loves them, and you are so very, very loved... even if you don’t think you are. Your mother wanted only to keep you safe when she just couldn’t do that anymore. She wanted you to have a life free of the pain she experienced. She loves you, little one... and she’s waiting for you to see that. All you have to do is be brave, just like she was.”

With an encouraging nod and a hopeful smile, Luna slid Scootaloo towards the final door.

“When you are prepared to leave,” Luna calmly whispered, “you will know what to do.”

Nodding her understanding, Scootaloo afforded her Princess a final glance, her eyes still pleading to be comforted even as her body grew rigid and tense. Donning her mask of bravery for her beaming Princess, Scootaloo drew her attention back towards the final door.

Scootaloo peered through the door frame and into the first few coalescing tendrils of color beyond as the final dream prepared itself for her solitary arrival. Then, with a deep breath in, Scootaloo stifled her screaming heart... closed her eyes...

And stepped forward into the last unknown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Straight into her mother's arms.

Swirling into its final form, Scootaloo's world slowly spun and whorled its way into the fuzzy outline of a giggling mass of color. Scootaloo found herself seated beside her mother as the mare held within her arms the swaddled form of her tiny self, a thin layer of fabric the only thing separating her skin from the frigidity of the night and the coming storm. Her mother looked so warm wrapped up with the lovely sound of her happy baby gurgling and sputtering with all the light of life within her tiny little heart.

Her Scootaloo had grown.

This one was stronger, healthier, more vibrant and active and vocal. This baby was curious, batting at the ends of the much longer mane of her mother, her eyes alight as the two played with one another. This baby was full of energy, giggling uncontrollably when the mare blew raspberries on her soft, warm belly. This baby was just now sprouting the beginnings of a mane so alike her mother’s that their relation would be undeniable.

This baby was loved.

Loved by the mare who smiled and played with her as she squirmed in the folds of a warm blanket, shielded from the pouring rain as the porch of a dark building grew out around them.

Cared for by the mother who gingerly tickled that same little Scootaloo within the pocket of her makeshift cradle, tenderly positioning those fragile little wings so that the baby within would be comfortable against her mother’s breast.

Adored as that same mare knocked upon the door, her wings outstretched over her child as the approaching clouds sounded out their fury and made evident their terrible potential with a flash of searing light.

The booming crackle of an angry world, no longer hidden from the muffled din of the Dreamscape, snapped the air and rent the world asunder, shocking that tiny little form into fits of squirming terror. Clasping her hooves around the ears of her child, the mare drew her baby in tight as the last few rolling booms of thunder died away.

Pulling her close, Scootaloo’s mother rocked her child's fear away and hid her from her worries, humming her a little song to replace the noises of the protesting world.

A lullaby, one Scootaloo had heard before.

One she could hear now.

Her mother's song was so very different from the anger of the raging atmosphere and the darkness of the night. Those melodious notes were so soft and smooth and lined with love that Scootaloo was drawn in, swept closer to her mother’s breast, cradled as softly and as warmly as her tiny innocent doppelganger.

Scootaloo surrendered herself to her mother’s petrifying tenderness, closing her eyes as her mother hushed her daughter... such quiet little tones to cast aside the screams of the sky above.

"Hush now, little one..."

Beaming with pride as her baby turned to follow the sound of her voice, Scootaloo's mother swept aside her child's mass of purple hair to catch those twinkling little eyes, regarding them with wonder as both Scootaloos stared back equally entranced.

"Everything is going to be okay."

Giving her daughter the biggest, most tender smile she could give, the mare played with her daughter's nose to distract her from the creaking of a wooden door and the sudden light which cut through the darkness.

Before a blinding golden light the officials came, hooves outstretched to cradle their newest ward: the broken baby still sputtering with glee as her mother played with her. Their empty smiles begged for brevity, demanded her obedience... extinguished all traces of sympathy. She had had her chance.

But their efforts were in vain, for none but her would hold her Scootaloo.

Plodding inside with her baby at her breast, the mare brushed past the attendants and various officials and walked alone, ignoring the other ponies' pleas for her adherence to regulation. Scootaloo followed close behind her mother, stepping through the door without a sound.

The other ponies remained in their places, their clipboards bobbing lower as their hallowed orders were broken. She wasn't obeying, like she'd been ordered to.

Stepping lightly through another door, the mare and her two Scootaloos tiptoed quietly past the other little colts and fillies hiding in their Princess's Dreamscape to escape the rolls of thunder and the flashing lights of elemental fury.

Anything to distract them from the horrors of the world outside. Anything to hide them from their loneliness.

Laying down on the furthest cot, the mare and her child rested together as the older Scootaloo stood silently beside them, unable to move as every detail of her childhood prison grew smooth with every stroke of her mother's hoof upon her brow. Laying herself down beside her child, Scootaloo's mother removed her head from her makeshift cradle as her baby, with her customary vigilance, regarded her in confusion.

"You're a sharp one, Scootaloo," she giggled, tickling her baby's tummy with her hoofpoint. "That's right: you're going to be sleeping here tonight. I know this isn't home, but it's warmer here, isn't it?"

Smiling as her baby admired the ceiling, Scootaloo's mother stroked aside her child's growing hair and chuckled when it wouldn't stay still.

"You're so, so pretty," she crooned, her bright eyes following her daughter's movements. "You look just like your Mommy, don't you?"

Her baby gurgled merrily in reply, and with a little smile the mare hid her eyes away behind her hooves.

"Where's Mommy?" she chirped, her baby's eyes growing wider before she, with a grand flourish, revealed herself with a cheerful "here I am!"

Giggling with mirth, Scootaloo's infant self lit up when the mare, with a flourish, pulled from her clothing a long, dazzling silver feather. Tickling the little infant Scootaloo with the very tip, she brushed it around the little one's face before tucking it along the baby's side.

"There," the mare whispered tremulously, forcing herself to smile for her absent partner. "Now Daddy's here too. Daddy's always going to be here for you..."

Her tiny Scootaloo's observant ears and eyes perked as her sentence died, prompting a few tears to streak down her cheeks to meet her smile.

"Daddy's going to stay with you to keep you safe, honey. Those ponies out there... they don't think Mommy is able to do that, and Daddy's not going to be home for a long time. They want you to be safe... just like I do. They're going to look out for you for a while, but Mommy's going to come right back for you after she gets help! Mommy's not going to leave you, sweetie!"

Those foreign words borne on profane tears only made that lingering confusion fester, and soon, when no explanation came: that doubt twisted and gnarled its way into distress. That gnawing fear took hold of both daughters for a brief moment before the softest of voices lulled them back into the quiet folds of comfort.

"Don't cry, honey! Please don't cry!" the mare pleaded, nuzzling closer to her struggling daughter. "Nothing's going to harm you here! They're going to care for you, darling, and you'll have so many friends to play with... I know it! They're going to make sure you're safe while Mommy's away. Everything is going to be okay..."

"No, it won't," Scootaloo whimpered, still staring soundlessly as her mother caressed her former self. Stamping her hoof to hide her tears, Scootaloo rounded once more on her mother only to find her wrapping her child's swaddling clothes tighter.

Then, with a trembling smile, Scootaloo's mother looked upon her daughter one last time, her eyes swimming with pride.

"Mommy is sorry, honey," the mare stammered, brushing her daughter's hair with a soft stroke of her hoof. "Mommy didn't mean to hurt you... she just wanted you to come so badly that it hurt to be without you. I love you so very, very much... so much that it hurt to not be able to hold you, or kiss you, or play with you. Mommy doesn't want to let you go, but... but she loves you and wants you to be safe. She doesn't want you to hurt like her..."

Closing her eyes, Scootaloo slumped to the floor as her mother, with infinite courage, pressed the squirming form of her daughter to her breast, shielding her from what would undoubtedly come. The filly stared soundlessly through the void, gazing upon that mare as she, with warmth and serenity, held her baby close.

This was it. This was the end of everything.

This was her goodbye.

With a voice stained with tears the mare began to sing, slowly at first, quiet and calm... and then, when she found her courage, just loud enough for her ethereal daughter to hear.

"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to lay your sleepy head..."

Regarding the door as another narrow beam of light sliced across the floor, Scootaloo tensed when the stretching shadows of the former attendants danced and bobbed towards them. Her mother was unfazed, for her baby's squirming was slowly dying away to be replaced by the steady rise and fall of her chest.

"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to go to bed..."

The shadows grew longer still, moving this way and that as the approaching attendants checked each child to ensure they were indeed asleep. As each filly and colt was observed, judged, and finally checked off, they began their final descent upon the mare still rocking her child to sleep.

"Drifting off to sleep, exciting day behind you..."

"Ma'am?" One attendant whispered viciously, his shadow moving a hoofstep closer. "You're not allowed to be here! Please come with us or we'll have to call security!"

"Leave her alone!" Scootaloo howled, her wingtips bristling as she stood her ground. Looking back towards her mother, Scootaloo saw no flicker of attention in her mother's eyes. She wasn't paying them any mind.

Her eyes were only for her baby.

Nudging the blanket closer to her daughter's ears to hide her away from the angry murmurings of her soon-to-be caretakers, the mare cradled her daughter even closer to her breast, her courage swimming in that murky pool of hidden sorrows which grew ever darker as the shadows grew.

"Drifting off to sleep, let the joys of dreamland find you..."

"Ma'am! We're not going to ask again!" the attendant hissed, stamping his hoof. When no ready response came, a nod of his head signaled the advance of a nearby security mare. That mare's amber eyes flickered with malice as her latest target rocked her child to sleep, a tranquil bundle of orange flesh the only thing preventing her from enacting her employer's rage. The snapping of a baton cracked the air like the peals of thunder beyond, but Scootaloo's mother remained tranquil.

"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to lay your sleepy head..."

"This is your last warning!" the security mare snarled, her advance halted only by the intangible little pegasus filly who stared back silently into her eyes, facing her mother's attacker down despite her incorporeal nature... despite her lack of presence.

She remained beside her mother, even if she wasn't present in the flesh.

She would always be right here, between her mother and the great unknown...

Like her mother had been for her.

The epiphany struck with those selfsame bolts of lighting from the world outside, and as their blinding light sliced through the windows they illuminated for the briefest of moments the raging, stalwart, steadfast filly form of a fiery Scootaloo, her wings aflare and quivering with power.

A filly who stood between the world and her mother, holding her ground as her Princess had predicted:

Brave, like her mother had been.

Rising from her place beside her silently sleeping daughter, Scootaloo's mother took all the time she required to ensure her child would remain lost in her warm slumber. Glancing at the raging security mare, lilac eyes conquered amber as her maternal instincts reared their heads and sounded out her fearlessness, instigating a hasty retreat and the sheathing of the security mare's baton.

Stroking her daughter's hair for the last time, Scootaloo's mother, with her broken smile, planted one last kiss on her daughter's brow to finish her song forevermore.

"Hush now, quiet now, it's time to go to bed."

Breaking her lips' firm seal, Scootaloo's mother rested her brow upon that of her infant for a brief moment before she allowed herself to be pulled away. Passing through the intangible form of her older daughter, she and Scootaloo shared a brief shiver of fright as the mare was borne away, her terrified steps towards her baby’s side stifled with every physical restraint to bear her outside.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments.. and then, just as quickly, she was gone. The calm courage of her entrance was abandoned for the zealous power of terror, and as the distance between them grew those soft whispers for her daughter’s calm gave way to struggling shrieks for another kiss... another shared smile...

Another stroke of her brow... another glimpse of her child.

Another chance. Just one more chance.

The filly remained, locked to the floor as her mother’s hoof slipped through her own... intangible, ethereal...

Gone.

But she was here! She was fighting for her child! Why were they taking her away, when all the evidence they needed was right here, right in the spaces they forced between the two of them?

Why couldn’t she be saved? Why couldn’t Scootaloo just reach out and make her presence known?

Why couldn’t she wake from this nightmare?

This nightmare...

It wasn't real.

"This is just a dream."

Her mother's fruitless struggle against her guards and those last few pleading words for lenience slowly grew still. Their lilting notes fluttered on the tepid air between them until she, as she had been for the rest of their time in the Dreamscape, fell silent. Her movements, and those of her captors, froze alongside them... locked in limbo as the edges of the Dreamscape slowly began to crumble.

But Scootaloo never noticed the change. The only thing she noticed was the stillness of her latest victim as the filly pounced, her wings and forehooves outstretched to pass through the bodies of her mother's captors. Rounding for another charge, Scootaloo howled her fury for herself alone as her intangible hoof slid through her petrified target, each swipe and punch of her's passing through the security mare's arm as if she wasn't there...

She wasn't there.

Why wouldn't that guard stop? Why couldn't she feel her attacks, her screams, her begs for her mother's freedom?

Why couldn't Scootaloo save her?

"Let her go! She doesn't need to go with you!" Scootaloo shrieked, her left hook unheeded as the guard remained petrified. Preparing herself for another strike, Scootaloo watched through her swirling vision as the Dreamscape slowly collapsed upon itself.

She hadn’t much time before it took her mother with it.

"Please! She needs to stay! She can take care of me, I know she can! Give her another chance! She loves me, can't you see that?! She loves me!"

Those last few kicks and screams passed as they had before: straight through the flesh of that belligerent security pony and right back to the filly who howled in rage as her punches and kicks went unacknowledged. Renewing her furious assault, the filly closed her eyes to deny her sight the knowledge of her failure.

Blinding them to the fact she was too late.

Desensitizing them from the sudden realization that her last punch had made contact.

~~~~~

Jolting from her sleep, Scootaloo blinked the final tears from her eyes as the color and sound of her own world slowly grew louder. The dancing of the train on the tracks, the pitter-pat of the rain on the window... everything she'd relinquished returned.

And the moans of her father as he nursed his latest wound came with it.

When that sudden pain in her hoof was given origin Scootaloo's eyes shot wide, but both of their respective aches subsided as she, in an uncontrollable flurry of color, leapt forward to tackle her father and hold him close.

Scootaloo's chest buckled as equal measures relief and despair swirled and formed together, her squeezes accompanied by the sounds of her stifled sobs and wails of utter heartache. A few minutes of her cries passed by unhindered, and when she had calmed down enough to allow her tears to be absorbed, Sunny, with a warm smile and reciprocal embrace, pulled his daughter’s chin up to meet his gaze.

"Well, hello to you too!" Sunny chuckled, resting his sore jaw upon his daughter's head. Relieved when some of her trembling was accompanied by an equally shaky giggle, he chanced a glance into his daughter's eyes. Wet though they were, there was nothing stopping the two of them from losing themselves momentarily before Scootaloo, reminded of her punishment, pulled herself away with a hurried shake of her mane.

"I'm sorry, Daddy!" the filly cried, falling to her rump on the cushion below. "I didn't mean to be so mean to her, I really didn't! I just... you were just so... I was confused and angry and... and... I didn't understand! I didn't mean it! Please, please forgive me!"

"Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, honey!" Sunny stammered, reining his daughter back in. "It's okay! Everything is just fine! I talked things out with Miss Ditzy, and she understands. She knows what you're going through, and she knows today has been a little tough for the both of us. I'd still like you to apologize, but you should at least know that she's already forgiven you. They both have."

Allowing herself to be held close, that brief attempt to correct his false assumption stifled itself as Scootaloo closed her eyes. She held on tight, holding him as close as that mare she couldn't, as every fleeting moment of her time in her Princess's dreamworld flashed by in her mind. Every warm flutter when her mother smiled, every stroke of her cheek... all those thing she'd done to return the love she'd taken.

But his thoughts didn't linger on her as Scootaloo's did. His were only for Ditzy and her daughter, on those new loves he had longed dreamed of having to fill the hole her mother left behind.

Maybe it was a sign that he was right, that some things can't be held onto forever.

Maybe it was time to let go.

Scootaloo allowed the last of her tears to be soaked into her father's chest before a knock on the door of the compartment signaled the arrival of the mail-mare in question. The hours spent ruminating over what to say to her irate little aggressor could almost be traced as they stampeded once more through Ditzy's mind, but she never got the chance to utter them.

Ditzy lost all words as Scootaloo, with a soaring buzz of her wings, wrapped her hooves around the mail-mare's neck and released her apology in the form of a tense, yet tender squeeze.

Returning the attention to the filly silently trembling along her neck, Ditzy gave her partner a little smile and a nod towards the door. Their intention wasn't missed, and with a shared smile Sunny permitted the two ponies a moment to be alone. Allowing the filly on her neck a few more minutes to steady herself, Ditzy did what she could to soothe her little ward before breaking the ice.

"I’m glad you feel better, Scootaloo," the mare whispered with a little stroke of Scootaloo's back. "I'm glad you're safe, and I'm happy you're not still mad at me..."

"I didn't mean it! I didn't want to, I just... I just..."

"It's okay, Scootaloo! You don't have a reason to cry! No one's mad at you, and no one's feelings were hurt. Your Dad talked to Dinky, and she's not upset either."

"She... she's not? But what I said was so mean! How isn't she mad at me?"

"Because she still wants to be your friend," Ditzy replied, pushing the filly away a little to make eye contact. "I want to be your friend too, Scootaloo, if you'll let me..."

"I will!" Scootaloo cried, nodding her head furiously. "I will! I just... I thought you were just taking advantage of my Dad! It was a mean thing to believe, and I just assumed that's why you two were here! I'm sorry! I'm really, really sorry!"

"No more of that," Ditzy Doo chuckled, stroking Scootaloo's shoulder with her tender hoof. "No more apologies, honey. You don't need to say you're sorry. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I didn't mean to try and replace your Mom, honey. I should've asked before... before getting close to your Dad. I know he means the world to you..."

Smiling as Scootaloo nodded her head in reply, Ditzy summoned up the last of her courage before relinquishing her grasp on her train-ride cogitations.

That little hope that had festered there in her mind as Scootaloo drifted away in hers.

"... But he means everything to me too, sweetie. He's the reason I'm here, the reason I'm talking to you... and the more I've gotten a chance to know him, the more I've come to think that his daughter is just as beautiful, and kind, and caring as he is."

Regarding her filly companion with all the hope in the world, Ditzy's heart fell when the same hope and elation she'd personally incubated for all those clandestine occasions enacted none of the same heartfelt joy. Scootaloo did little more than stare at the mail-mare's hooves, lost in the distance between them. Gathering the last of her courage, Ditzy lowered her head and whispered her final thoughts.

"You're a very smart young mare, Scootaloo, and you're growing up right before our eyes. I know you don't have any reason to like me for what I've done, and I know you may feel like I'm just an outsider... but if you'd like, I'd like to maybe stick around and be a part of your life. I know I can't replace your Mom, honey... but if it's okay, I'd like to at least get the chance to help you grow up."

With her proposal unleashed and her heart's intention firmly in view, Ditzy gave one last hopeful glance at the silent Scootaloo before closing her eyes. Seconds passed without a sound save the puffing of the train's engine as it slowed its breathing to bring them into their destination. Nothing came as the moments ticked away.

Scootaloo didn't speak or lash out. She didn't even breathe. She only trod lightly over the cushions to embrace the mail-mare once more, her eyes dry and her hidden smile wide.

Ditzy, her wings aflutter, roused herself from her silence as her chest grew unbearably warm, filled with her relinquished little hope given new life with Scootaloo's tight squeeze around her neck. Beaming her elation for her reflection in the window and the vermillion-maned pegasus stallion beyond, Ditzy allowed her heart to soar as she held her newest friend to her breast.

Even though the pain still lingered, Scootaloo smiled when the mare's squeeze brought forth a brief flicker of hope, the tiniest little fluttering of the love her mother had for her. It was almost as if a little bit of her was there, somewhere between the arms of the pegasus mare who held her close.

Maybe she could make her father happy and bring back a little life for the both of them.

Maybe she could be enough of a conduit for her mother's love.

Another minute more gave the two of them enough time to seal their implicit bond. Scootaloo remained by Ditzy's side as they broke apart, gathered their things, departed the train, and made their way lightly towards their beloved Sunny. With a warm grin and a nuzzle Ditzy relayed the outcome of events for the absent stallion.

The first few tendrils of sunlight, as they had in the Dreamscape, paled in comparison to the joy of Sunny’s beaming smile. As the two adults shared in their happiness, Scootaloo afforded her little friend her explanation for her behavior and a sincere apology, both accepted and returned with a quiet hug and a smile of forgiveness.

With the newest ties finally knitted together and the formerly broken ones mended, Scootaloo and Sunny waited patiently as the family Doo collected their things, waved their goodbyes, and rounded the corner beyond to fulfill their mission.

Then, with a flurry of silver, Sunny scooped his daughter onto his back and took flight, wheeling westward to make their way onwards to meet with the mare who waited patiently for their arrival.

The mare who would finally see her daughter again.

Plodding alongside her father, Scootaloo looked out upon the renewed vigor of the day with pride. The world was alive again, the light which had been stolen away from it returned by the hasty retreat of guilty clouds and the brilliant forgiveness of a loving sun. It had within itself such grand heat and more than enough willingness to share, and with a flick of her mane Scootaloo absorbed just enough to raise her head and look out upon the grand space she shared with her father and various others.

Some other ponies were doing as she and her father were, and by the looks on their faces the glory of the sun was more or less well received. Some of those ponies joked and chuckled either alone or with their loved ones, remembering jokes long forgotten about events long since passed. One stallion, with his family around him, took a few moments to introduce those fillies and colts he’d helped create to the mare who’d never seen them in the flesh.

Some looked upon their mothers and wept, overjoyed to be seeing them again.

Some of them wished that their parting words hadn't indeed been their last.

Every one of them, in one way or another, paid homage to their mothers, their wives, their daughters... all those mares who had brought such vibrant life into the world.

All those mothers who were unable to watch their children enjoy the day.

One filly nearby joked and played as her parents remained close-by, both of them stony and silent, allowing her to revel in the absence of understanding. She must have been just a few years shy of Scootaloo's age, but she was so much younger still. Her mind hadn't been tempered by the harshness of the world as Scootaloo's had been. She was still such a child, but did it matter? She was happy! She was alive with the warmth of their Princess's sun and the love of her parents!

Was it really so simple?

Glancing back towards her father, Scootaloo could find no indication of her desired behavior in his eyes. They, like her own, had long since run out of tears to shed. Whether or not Ditzy had been privy to them was a mystery, but there was little doubt that he was just as spent as she was.

At least she wasn’t alone in her confusion about just what to do or say. At least she had someone who was just as nervous as she was.

Remarking once more as the filly she’d spotted began to leave her mother’s side with her father in tow, Scootaloo started slightly when her own father slowed his gait and, eventually, stood still. Glancing backwards to inquire just what was the matter, her words fell on deaf ears as her eyes caught those of her father. Turning to follow his gaze, Scootaloo shielded her eyes from the sun as it reflected down upon them all, illuminating their final destination.

The last available seat at the end of a lonely row, where waited her mother.

The mare awaited the two of them patiently, silent and still. Ignorant of the other ponies’ presence as they tiptoed down the row, Scootaloo and Sunny weighed their hooves and rehearsed their greetings, both of them just as petrified as the mare who waited just yards away.

Yards turned to feet, feet into inches... but the distance still loomed between them, stretching on for miles and miles. No matter their proximity, they would always be so far apart.

No dreams or memories of a guilty princess could bring together that void.

Keeping his head low, Sunny plodded slowly towards his wife, seating himself nearby with a smile and a sigh. Nodding his head towards the space beside him, he bid his Scootaloo take her next big step forward. There was nothing to fear with him nearby, nor any need for hesitation or doubt.

He would be right there, and he wouldn’t leave her to face this alone.

Seating herself quietly down upon the grass beside her father, Scootaloo allowed her eyes to open to look upon the mare who waited silently for her to speak.

She was here to listen, but nothing more.

“Hey Mom,” Scootaloo murmured, shuffling her hooves as she broke her minutes-long silence. When no response came, a look from her father and his encouraging nod granted her the courage to continue despite her fears.

“I... I’m a... well, I’m a little older since you last saw me, and I... I just wanted you to... to...”

Exhaling the last of her selfish breaths, the filly pounded the ground and shook her head.

“I can’t do this,” she muttered, grinding her hoof in the dirt. Turning from her seat on the ground, Scootaloo returned to the warmth of her father's embrace, each nuzzle further into his chest a warm addition to the slowly melting shield she'd constructed on the train. Her father remained beside her, looking down upon her as silently as the mare whom she couldn’t address.

“Yes you can, Scoots,” Sunny whispered, raising her chin with a warm smile. “You can do this, I know you can. She’s here to listen to you. Just say what you mean, and I know she’ll hear you.”

“I can’t. I don’t know what to say. I... I never prepared anything.”

“Neither did I,” Sunny admitted with a shrug. “She doesn’t need a speech, honey. She just wants to hear your voice, no matter what you say. She doesn't mind that you're angry at her. All she cares about is you being close-by and willing to talk to her. That’s all she really wants.”

Nudging his daughter closer towards her latest challenge, Sunny gave her one last stroke of the shoulder to remind her of his presence. “Go on, honey. I’ll be right here.”

Scootaloo shot her father one last courageous smirk before breathing deep to calm her raging heart down, each shuffle closer to her mother harder than the last. Then, with a great exhale and a ruffle of the grass below, Scootaloo reaffirmed herself to her goal with a whisper.

“Maybe you can hear me, and maybe you can’t. Maybe you can tell that I don’t really know what to say... and maybe Dad's right and you don't mind. I just don’t know... but I hope you’re listening, wherever you are."

Tensing her hoof, Scootaloo raised her head and glared at the last remaining evidence of her mother’s existence, staring at that stone with all the hate she could muster.

“I've hated you ever since I can remember, Mom. I never had a reason to love you. You never deserved it, and in a way you still don't. I thought you just gave me up and left me behind. You never visited... you never wrote me... you never made an effort! You never tried, so what reason did I have to do the same?!"

With a fiery glare those murmurings gnarled their way into vicious growls, but Sunny remained in his place. There was no need to intervene.

His daughter was no child... not anymore.

"How could you do that to me, Mom?!" Scootaloo snarled with a drying stroke of her cheek. "You don't do that to someone you love! You ruined me and then just left me to fend for myself! You broke me and I didn't even get the chance to try! I'm never going to fly and it's all your fault!”

Scootaloo shot a furtive glance towards her patient father before letting her head fall with the interminable weight of regret.

"You... you never let me say goodbye! You never gave me a chance to love you back! Maybe things would have been alright had you known that I could forgive you for hurting me! I want to, Mom! I don't want to keep on hating you, and I’m sorry if it's too late but... but I just can't keep doing that."

With a shrug of her shoulders, Scootaloo afforded her mother a sad smile and an honest tear.

"I know you tried, Mom. I know you loved me at least a little... at least more than I thought you did. I know how hard it was to give me up, to give in and let them take me away. I still hate you for how you made that decision, and I hate you for not coming back, but... but at least now I know why you did it."

Closing her eyes, Scootaloo gave herself a few uninterrupted moments to gather her strength before reaffirming her gaze on the base of her mother's headstone.

"You did it because you love me. You did it because you wanted me to succeed, to have a life worth living. You fought for me. You're still fighting for me, somehow... and all I've done is hate you for it. I thought that hate had a purpose, but I've wasted all that time trying to hate somepony who has only loved me back.”

“You deserve better than that,” Scootaloo asserted with a beckoning smile to her father. “You deserve a daughter who still loves you for the things you did, even if some of them hurt to think about. You deserve a daughter who can at least understand what you did to keep her safe, even if she can't fully forgive you. You at least deserve a chance."

Smiling wider as her father re-enveloped her against his chest to join her in her vigil, Scootaloo granted him another teary smile before casting aside her pain with a promise.

“I can do that, Mom. I can do that for you... because that's what you did for me." Shrugging her shoulders, Scootaloo concluded her words with a hopeful whisper. "I hope you know that I love you, Mom..."

"She does, Scootaloo," Sunny said with a nod, wiping the last of their tears from their cheeks. "She's always known. You've never needed to prove that to her, honey... and I don't think you need to prove it now."

"Why not?"

Giving his daughter a kiss on the head, Sunny cradled her little form closer and closed his eyes, savoring the tender courage of his wonderful, beautiful, kind, and wholeheartedly brave daughter.

"Because you're here. You came back for her, Scootaloo, even though she wasn't able to."

Her head turned a bit in confusion as she spent a few seconds pondering his words... but the more she puzzled, the less his response rang true.

"I don't think so, Dad."

Sunny recoiled in shock as his daughter spoke up loud and clear. Her prior timidity was cast aside as she grinned widely for her mother, nudging herself in closer for comfort.

"She never really left us... not really."

Nestling closer to that warmest of hearts, Scootaloo listened close to the sound of life in the world borne once more into the air. Her father remained at her back, holding her tight for both himself and his departed love.

Scootaloo could almost feel her mother there in her father's warmth, borne on the softness of the breeze and the wonder of the day, her eternal love sliding through the air on the backs of the setting sunbeams.

Present in every heartbeat of her loving husband and in the happy little smile of the broken daughter she had foaled:

The daughter who had finally found her.

The Scootaloo who would never let her go.

Author's Note

Dedicated, as it should be, to my loved and loving mother. She is amazing beyond words, and I never tell her that enough.