//------------------------------// // Still No Regrets, Rainbow Dash? // Story: A Rainbow in Autumn // by Serketry //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash felt the wind whistling through her wings, smelled the sharp bite of ozone, and heard the soft patter of rain falling from the clouds below. She soared as high as her little wings could carry her, desperate to gain altitude before she could even attempt her power dive. Hot on her tail, Hoops and Dumb-Bell heaved and panted, trying to keep pace with the younger, faster filly. But this was her moment. Somepony had to put those meatheads in their place. For Gilda. For Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash was about to do the impossible- Dash was rudely awakened by the rusty metal screech of the shower shutting off. Gilda’s voice, oddly soft and soulful, carried into the bedroom, “...I work and breathe among the fumes that trail across the sky. There’s thunder all around me, and there’s poison in the air… hmm-hmm-” The singing stopped abruptly, replaced by the telltale wplplplplpl of Gilda shaking herself dry. “Shower’s free, if you wanna wash that rainbow shit outta your crest…” The griffon called out, as she padded around the corner. Gilda looked at Dash, sprawled out on her bed. Dash looked at Gilda, still dripping wet from her shower. After a tense moment, Gilda just laughed, “Hahahaaa… I bet Dumb-ass would trade his left nut to see this.” Instantly, Dash felt a little more at ease, “Yeah, shit. Just ‘cause we turned them down for the Funnelcloud Formal, what, that’s all the proof they need we’re a couple clam-bakers? Fuck those douchebags…” A pensive energy still filled the room, as Dash waited for the last horseshoe to drop. “Yeah…” Gilda sighed, “So anyway, there’s a single restaurant in this dirtpile of a town that serves meat- and it’s a gyro place. When you’re done in there,” She nodded towards the bathroom, “How about I buy you a beer? Hope you like Clyde Light, or Dos Equinas.” Rainbow Dash felt her guard creeping back up. Gilda and generosity rarely mixed; and there was an air of finality in her words that felt less like comradery, and more like a last request. “Uh, yeah, sure…” She said, cautiously, “And then, maybe we can talk about what you want to do next?” A flash of anger flickered over Gilda’s face as she spat out, “What’s the point? I got fired for cause, nopony’ll hire me! Four Winds, you can’t even fire contractors, unless they…” she locked up, “...those extra signatures. What the-” she spun around in place, eyes wide- “were those my W-4 and I-9? Did they really take the extra time and paperwork just to fuck me over?” “Gil! Gil…” Dash tried to get her attention; once the griffon finally stopped pacing, she continued, “Gil, I made this offer in Innsbeak, and I’m making it again. The Ponyville weather team could use another set of wings. Part time, and the pay’s not great, but the cost of living’s also pretty cheap. There’s, uh,” Dash tried to remember what all went into the new employees’ packet, “decent PTO, and a retirement plan. You say nopony’ll hire you? Well I’m co-captain. The job is yours, if you want it.” She left the stay of deportation merely implied. Gilda’s stare pierced right through her, but she replied in an even voice, “Yeah sounds good. Take your shower, then let’s go.” Dash rolled out of bed, and immediately stepped in something cold and gooey. She looked down in horror at the white paste coating her hoof- and felt a wave of relief when she noticed the black plastic container. Tzatziki sauce, for the gyros. Which she’d just stepped in. “Yech… yeah, I’ll be out in a bit.” She delicately hopped towards the bathroom, trying her best not to do even more damage to the ruined carpet. Her efforts were rewarded with the sight of a truly disgusting bathroom. A fine layer of wet, tawny hair coated everything; preened feathers clogged the shower drain, an orange soapscum film covered the rest of the basin; and both sinks had small puddles of booze-reeking puke congealing away in them. She took a second to, out loud, thank the Four Winds this was one of those bathrooms with the weird separate room for the toilet; she’d hold it all the way back to Ponyville before she dared poke her muzzle in there. Gilda must’ve heard her, as she called in, “Oh hey, sorry, I wasn’t really expecting guests?” Dash swallowed hard, and quietly weighed her options: she could just not, and risk… what, scalp cancer? The rainbow runoff could be decorative, like the fountains at her house, but it just as easily could’ve already sterilized her. Or, she could buck up, take flight, and do her business without ever touching that disgusting- oh that wasn’t a floor mat. “UGGGGGH!” She groaned, “No, it’s fine, I’ve seen worse,” In a horror flick, she thought. Gilda was normally pretty messy, but Dash had to hope this level of filth was a recent development. Taking a shower without touching anything turned out to be a challenge, but Rainbow Dash was no stranger to flying under adverse conditions. She hovered under the just-less-than-scalding hot water, scrubbing vigorously at her mane to dislodge the iridescent, oily industrial residue. Snippets of Gilda’s voice carried over the sound the water, “…and it’s go, griffs, go, they’ll time your every breath, and every day you’re in this place you’re two days nearer death…” What should’ve been a five-minute rinse turned into twenty minutes of terror, but she got it done. She glided out of that waking nightmare- only to find the apartment empty. “Gil?” She called out, “Sorry that took so long. Are you-” She drifted a bit further into the room, and noticed a scrap of parchment replacing the photo on the side table. Curious, she flapped over and read it. Dash, I guess I owe you a beer, but I can’t take your offer. What you said last night got me thinking, but I realized just now how bad it is. I could spend the last of my bits drinking myself to death, I could follow you back to Lamesville and work for Purplebitch Twilight Or I could do something that matters. I’m not the only grif non-pony getting fucked out here. Flight camp, the Weather Factory all four service Academies there all bullshit. If somepony wont fix it, somegriff might. Don’t get mad. Get even. Thanks for reminding me, G Rainbow Dash crashed through the apartment door and took to the skies, scanning anything and everything for a hint of a trace of a trail. The harsh morning light stabbed her eyes, but she didn’t care. Blinking back tears, she looked for anything- displaced clouds, disrupted thermals, even just a couple of ponies looking up. Nothing. Gilda was gone. “Gilda!” She screamed, adding a kick of weather magic to help her voice carry, “Giiil-da-!” Her voice broke. She tried to inhale, but her lungs didn’t respond. Her barrel quivered, her heart felt like it was in a blender. It was all she could do to force her shaking wings to keep her aloft. Why did she even come here? What was the point? Because Gilda needed my help to remind her just who she is. Hanging in the distance, easily two hundred klicks to the west, little more than a speck on the horizon, the Wonderbolts’ floating academy and main barracks had just about reached its northern apex for the year. On any other day, she would’ve been excited to see the facility. Today, though, a deep sense of dread chilled her to her core. “...and that’s when I flew back home,” Dash concluded. “You flew five-hundred kilometers in four hours? After screaming yourself hoarse.” Twilight asked, incredulously. They sat across from each other at a booth in the stellar, yet unimaginatively-named Hay Burger. She levitated another couple of fries up to her mouth; Dash hadn’t even touched her food, though she’d made short work of her cranberry juice. “Yeah… I didn’t feel like waiting for the train, you know? I just needed to get home.” Her eyes were firmly glued to the table between them. “Do you think she meant anything in that note? Anything we should be concerned about?” Twilight’s mind ran through the possible threats the pissed-off griffon posed. On her own, she wasn’t too dangerous… but she knew things. Things the Society for Lunar-Equestrian Studies was paying good money to acquire. After losing Shutterfly and Trixie, they’d be looking for new help. Operatives? Were they that far-reaching? Snapping back to the present, and seeing her friend quietly suffering in front of her, Twilight tentatively reached out a hoof, and placed it on Dash’s. “Hey. It’s OK. You tried to reach her. You did what you could. It’s on her for- for running like that.” She tried to sound as assuring as possible. She’d been through a bad breakup, herself; she had some inkling of what the pegasus felt. Of course, I wouldn’t have slept with her, first, Twilight silently judged. Traces of jealousy, relief, and schadenfreude swirled in her mind. “...No, she won’t bother us,” Dash muttered. She went silent again, staring down at her hayburger. When she finally looked directly at Twilight, there was a spark behind those piercing cerise eyes of hers, “She’ll have enough problems just staying here, in Equestria. And I’m not going to add to them. We’re not going to add to them.” She left it at that. Taken aback, the scholar stammered out, “Erm, alright. Understood.” An uncomfortable silence settled over them both. Eventually, Dash chimed in, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry about two days ago? I shoulda cut you off after, like, three shots,” She chuckled dryly, “Because you were hammered. You found the water I left you, right?” “Oh, that? Twilight whickered, “No, that was a lot of fun,” She lied; she still felt a dull throbbing right under her horn, the last vestiges of a hangover that felt like the Wrath of Celestia inside her skull. “I didn’t, uh, do anything too embarrassing, did I?” She let out a nervous giggle, “I don’t even remember how I got home from the bar.” The pegasus sat there, fidgeting, for a few seconds, before mumbling, “Nah. I helped walk you home, and you just sorta babbled incoherently.” Twilight looked at Rainbow Dash. Rainbow Dash looked at Twilight. Ask her. Ask her. Just ask her out. “Sooo… I do have a couple more recon missions I need somepony to fly…” Twilight glanced down into her saddlebag at the dozens of drafted flight plans, “But that can wait.” Twilight’s words hung in the air, her thought obviously unfinished. After another awkward moment, Dash replied, “Yeah, sorry, but no thanks. There’s actually some weather crew stuff I’ve been putting off- payroll, scheduling, admin crap.” She let out a single laugh that sounded more like a cough, “You know what that’s like.” She stared down at her now-cold burger again. Just ask her, dammit. “You know… I do. Why... don’t... you come over tomorrow night? Spike can whip us up some dinner, I can help with your reports, we can take a look at these flight plans...” Twilight flashed a wide, forced smile. Then she froze. Was she really doing this? Hitting on Rainbow Dash at her most vulnerable? Wow, classy move there, Doc, she chastised herself. She didn’t want to be pushy, but- “Naw, I think I’m good. Thanks,” Dash interrupted her thoughts, “I’ll take a rain check on that dinner, though, word has it Spike can cook.” She grabbed her greasy, congealed burger and finally took a bite, “I’m starting to feel a bit better. I just needed somepony to talk to. You’re a good friend, you know that?” “Hey, no problem. If you need me for anything, I’m right here.” Rainbow Dash took a few more bites of her burger in relative silence, breath whistling through her nostrils, before she choked down a bite, bobbed her head, and asked, confused, “Oh yeah, right. Hey Twi, what’s up with that crashed airship out by the Station?” At long last, Rainbow Dash stumbled through her front door. She felt drained, and a bizarre mix of pride and defeat. She paused; there was a bag of trash, tucked behind a pillar in the entryway. It'd been there for almost a month- she kept meaning to fly it down to the surface on garbage day, but kept forgetting to do so until the day after, so there it sat. She dropped her saddlebags and flew the trash down to her wheelie bin. She flew back up and into her kitchen; while she’d remembered to turn the stove off before she left, there was still that big pot of bloated, overcooked macaroni shells to throw out. Dash swept through the kitchen, rounding up all the various empty packaging littering the place. Nearly a bagful. She grabbed a fresh bag and patrolled the rest of her house. Old soda cups, energy drink cans, and protein shake bottles. A small mountain of junk mail. The pile of foam packing material all her combat gear shipped in. Into the bag it went. Going the extra mile, she broke down and flat-packed all the cardboard boxes, too, for recycling. Another two trips down to the surface. Her wheelie bins were starting to look full, now. Satisfied, she made her way to her bedroom. Clean, warm, safe. She hit the showers for a long, cleansing scrub- one that didn’t require complex aerobatics this time- before finally slipping into bed. She still couldn’t place a toe, a word on what she was feeling. Pain, that was easy. But Gilda really did need a helping hoof. It would’ve hurt far more to find her name in the obituary. Maybe Gilda ditching her like that was just payback for Innsbeak. If so, then, touché. She’d probably never have an answer. But as far as she could tell, she’d done more good than harm. I can live with that. Seconds ticked over to minutes. Minutes ticked over to hours. Dash rolled back out of bed, entered her closet, and dug through the piles of old clothes and battered equipment until she found it. An old hat box she used to store the hoofful of Flight Camp memorabilia she still held onto. She sifted around through the loose papers, patches, and photos, not even sure if she still had it. But at the very bottom of the stack, she found her copy of that one picture. Her and Gilda. The only photo of them together. Holding it in her hoof, she didn’t exactly know what to do next. Tear it to shreds, or frame it, or… She tilted her hoof, and let it slip back into the box. It was safe, there. Buried, but not forgotten. That’s all she needed to know. Rainbow Dash crawled back into bed, and finally, finally drifted off to sleep.