The sky was threatening to cry.
Scootaloo was already doing plenty of that. Her bloodshot eyes burned as she rubbed them dry for the hundredth time this hour. She sniffled as quietly as she could manage, as she had run out of tissues long ago.
Her tired body shivered against its will as the wind whipped through countless rows of plain metal folding chairs. The entire town of Ponyville and hundreds of creatures from around all of Equestria had gathered for the funeral. She sat in the front row facing the Town Hall... and a dreadful box on a lavishly-decorated platform full of flowers.
Inside the rather simple coffin of plain oak wood and white satin laid a sky blue Pegasus mare clothed in the performance uniform of the Wonderbolts. Her wings had been positioned to flare upwards and outwards heroically, and her front hooves were placed in a praying position atop her chest. Her wild rainbow mane, once washed and conditioned and brushed to perfection, lay scattered across her face like a veil.
She looked like she was peacefully sleeping, as if in the middle of a wonderful dream. Scootaloo knew this was not the case, though. She had tried to wake her up so many times. She had even tried again ten minutes ago.
She heard several sets of hoofsteps behind her, but she did not move.
"S-Scootaloo? Are you alright?" A warm hoof touched her shoulder. Fluttershy's voice was even softer than usual. "It's getting quite dark out."
"Oh, dear..." Rarity trotted towards the coffin and peered inside. Her horn glowed with icy light as her magic brushed Rainbow's mane out of her face. "There, now. We can't have you looking so unsightly... not t-today..." she choked.
"C'mon, Scoots," Applebloom gently tugged at her left hoof while Sweetie Belle tugged at her right, breaking her free from her seat. "It's freezin' out here. Let's go inside and sit. We don't even hafta talk to anyone at the reception."
A noise caused Scootaloo's head to snap upwards. Rainbow's parents, Windy Whistles and Bow Hot Hoof, Applejack and Pinkie Pie were lifting her off the platform, aided by the swirls of Rarity's and Twilight's magic. She tried to follow them, but her friends held her back.
"I... I don't think you want to follow them," Fluttershy gently suggested. "They're taking Rainbow to the funeral home to have her cremated, now that everything's over."
Scootaloo's voice was hoarse and raw. She tried to protest but could only manage a couple of disjointed words.
"But... she... no-"
"She wouldn't have wanted that to be your last memory of her," Fluttershy soothed. "I'm sure she wanted you to remember her as she was in life... so proud, so bold... and such a w-wonderful f-friend... a great p-pony..." Though she had dealt with death many times in the past as part of her occupation, Fluttershy was struggling to hold it together long enough to comfort the adoptive little sister of her late best friend. Fresh tears stung Scootaloo's cheeks as she watched the somber parade walk slowly down the road until they were out of sight. Only then did she allow herself to half-walk towards the Town Hall, and be half-dragged by Applebloom and Sweetie.
Moist, warm, slightly-funky air cascaded into Scootaloo's body as she opened the door. The interior of Ponyville's main building was bustling with many of the funeral attendees, particularly those who knew Rainbow well. Most were residents of the town who had known her for many years, all speaking quietly and respectfully of her great exploits. The Wonderbolts closest to Rainbow were present: Spitfire draining her fourth mug of cider and continuing to blame herself for only adhering to 99% of the safety protocols, and Soarin, who rubbed Spitfire's back in sympathy as he sobbed and loudly blew his own nose. Various members of other races she had interacted with were in attendance as well, both civilian and royalty, from Thorax, King of the Changelings and Dragon Lord Ember to Gilda, Zecora, and even Little Strongheart.
And, of course, to be expected at the funeral of one of the Bearers of Harmony, Princess Celestia sat at one of the tables by herself, flanked by a pair of Royal Guards while nursing a glass of white wine, dressed in blackened finery. Also saddened by Rainbow's passing, she kept glancing around the room and finding eyes upon her, and she cringed at the thought of her mere presence taking attention away from the matter at hoof. Though she had requested silence, her earlier eulogy for Rainbow had garnered much applause.
To Scootaloo, however, all these ponies and other creatures may as well have been monochrome cardboard cutouts. She quietly slipped out of her friends' hooves and rushed past all the well-wishes and "sorry for your loss"-es, desperate for the sanctity of an empty room. Doors hastily opened and slammed shut in her wake until she found a small, dark storage closet in which to be alone.
Once she had shoved the heaviest of the cleaning supplies in front of the door to block entry, she sat down and wailed. Her eyes screwed themselves shut, forcing her to relive that abhorrent afternoon...
*one week earlier*
It was a beautiful day. Canterlot's golden spires glowed with radiance as ponies from all over Equestria gathered for the annual Wonderbolts Derby. Rainbow was excited for the event, eager to show off her extreme speed, and had reserved the best skybox in the cliffside grandstands for her friends. Scootaloo, of course, was also invited, but she much preferred sitting in the front row, as close as possible to the imported cloud racetrack.
Her body shook with anticipation as the Wonderbolts took their positions, Rainbow in between Fleetfoot and Blaze. The starting pistol's shot rang out, and she heard the thrum of twenty wings beating as hard as they could, followed by a blur of blue and gold. The crowd erupted into a thunderous clamor as the ten flyers whizzed around the track, Rainbow Dash quickly taking the lead.
She didn't really remember the ins and outs of the race, the overtaking or the strategies. It was gone, forgotten, all lost to that terrible accident.
High Winds, whom Rainbow was about to lap, had hit a patch of turbulence and fluttered erratically to recover. Rainbow was flying as fast as she could, too fast to safely avoid her. She veered to the right, thankfully missing High Winds but hitting the patch of turbulence, and spun out of control into the cloud barriers against the grandstands. Though her heart skipped a beat, Scootaloo did not fear for Rainbow's safety; the barriers were enchanted to bring any errant Pegasi to a safe stop, and this was not the first time she had crashed into them. Perhaps she would even use the barriers as a sort of springboard and launch herself back into the race, maybe even showing off with a trick.
But Rainbow did not come to a stop. She bounced off the barrier as intended, but her momentum carried her slowly back into the racetrack. Back into the path of the speeding Wonderbolts.
Fleetfoot was flying too fast to avoid her. Time stopped as Scootaloo watched Fleetfoot's front hooves drive themselves into Rainbow's left barrel.
She watched as Rainbow's eyes disappeared inside her skull.
She watched as the right half of her barrel bulged unnaturally.
She watched as her neck bent at an angle a neck was never meant to bend.
The crowd's shouts and cheers died as Rainbow and Fleetfoot fell motionlessly to the clouds below. A horn blared a series of short blasts from somewhere, and the other Wonderbolts immediately converged on their fallen comrades. Horrified, Scootaloo bent over the grandstand's railing as far as she could go, peering down to the thick layer of cloud cover they had come to rest on. Fleetfoot was rolling and moaning in pain, her front limbs and right wing shattered into bloody tangles.
But Rainbow twitched once, twitched twice, then lay still.
A grotesque, rattling gurgle escaped her bleeding muzzle, punctuated by a gush of crimson.
Her eyes stared into nothing.
The other Wonderbolts, pale from shock, quickly erected a cover of opaque clouds above the scene so the crowds couldn't see.
But Scootaloo saw everything.
*present*
The inability to breathe through her nose startled Scootaloo out of her nightmare. She coughed violently, rubbing her wet, salt-burned eyes so she could look around for something to blow her nose on. A box of thick paper towels proved sufficient, and the force she had to use to clear her sinuses almost drowned out the rest of her thoughts.
Applejack had been the one to confirm to her what she already knew. The coroner said that it had been instant, that she felt no pain. Here one moment, gone the next. She had burst into the morgue screaming for Rainbow to get up and tell her she was okay, much to the dismay of her friends and the hospital workers. Rarity's magic hadn't been strong enough to tear her away from her cold body, though she really hadn't the heart to at the moment. Twilight had to intervene.
As the funeral preparations were set in motion, Twilight had been the most stoic of them all, sending out invitations to all who knew Rainbow, selecting wreaths and flower arrangements, composing eulogies, arranging for Octavia to perform a set of appropriate dirges and requiems. Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack and her own two best friends had been sobbing messes most of the week. And Pinkie Pie... she was surprised Pinkie even had the inner strength and energy to cater the reception afterward.
But Twilight... Twilight never shed a single tear.
Scootaloo's aunts had quickly arranged for her a meeting with a therapist a couple days after the accident. He had told her that grief comes in many forms, and not all ponies grieve the same way. Perhaps Twilight was grieving in her own way, she presumed. She wished she had that kind of strength.
There was a gentle knock on the door. "Scootaloo? You in there?" Spike's muffled voice barely penetrated the closet. Scootaloo blew her nose as hard as she could in response. "I've got something for you... something Rainbow wanted you to have."
That was all the motivation she needed. She shoved the cleaning supplies out of the way and opened the door. Spike stood solemnly in front of her, holding a delicate, black-lacquered box the size of an apple.
"Twilight and the others are back," he spoke quietly, offering the box to her. "Rainbow said in her will that you could have some of her ashes, if you wanted them." Sniffling, Scootaloo slowly, gingerly took the box in her hooves and nodded. It may have only been a hoofful of crumbled bone, but it was now her most treasured possession. She held it tightly to her chest, prompting Spike to wipe his eyes with the back of his claws.
"Your friends are worried about you," he began again after regaining his composure. "C'mon, let's go see them. I'll even sneak you some cider if you want... Celestia knows I need some myself."
Scootaloo nodded, but did not speak. She had finally managed to stop crying; saying literally anything would cause her to start again. Spike gently wrapped an arm around her, and the two returned to the reception.