I blinked hard as the camera flash went off again.
“Hey! Jetstream! Can ya look over here a second?!” Another flash. “Thanks! This’ll make front-page news!”
For as long as I’ve been the captain of Manehattan’s Meteors, I’ve never really gotten used to the paparazzi. Although it had only been four months, I thought I would’ve at least been able to bear the flashes from the camera by now.
The flurry of flashes continued, supported by an onslaught of questions that assailed me from all sides.
“Jetstream! How many hours a day do you have your team practice?!”
“Jetstream, what’s your opinion on the outlawing of Griffons competing in the annual ‘Flyby 500’?!”
“Hey, Jetstream! Weatherhouse Gaming Inc. has requested that you be a character in their new Virtual Reality Simulator! Are you going to accept!?
“There’s been a lot of talk that you’re still single, Jetstream! Is this true?!”
I closed my eyes hard, shaking my head furiously. Ugh. None of these questions will work. How does Windchaser even do it?! Especially with the cameras flashing every two seconds!
“Jetstream, who was your inspiration?”
Finally! A question I could answer.
I raised a hoof for silence, desperately hoping that it would work. I was relieved when the reporters died down, readying their notepads.
“That’s a good question. In my opinion, there were dozens of great flyers I met in my experiences as a captain. However…” My voice lowered as it gained a tone of warm recollection. “The flying team that started it all was the Canterlot Wonderbolts.” The flashing of the cameras started up again, although I was so deep into my storytelling that it didn’t really matter anymore.
“It was sixteen years ago. I hadn’t really taken an interest in flying until my granddad, one of the Pegasi on the Wonderbolts, showed me some old movies from his days as a flyer.
“After that day, I knew what I wanted to do in this lifetime. Although the popularity of flying teams had faded long ago, I was still motivated to practice.” I jabbed a hoof at the reporter who had asked one of the questions earlier. “Here’s the answer to your question, so listen carefully, buddy.”
Clearing my throat, I went on. “I practiced day in and day out. There wasn’t a week of inactivity that year. Flying through my hometown of Manehattan helped a lot, as the buildings provided perfect obstacles to test my maneuvering. Initially, I wanted to be JUST like my granddad. I even told him myself, claiming that I’d become the fastest flyer in Equestria.
“That’s when he told me I reminded me of a young mare that had joined the team before he had left. When I asked for an explanation as to why a mare would remind him of a colt, he told me that she had the same attitude. She was passionate about what she did, putting time, heart and devotion in her flying. That’s what led to her being the youngest mare to ever join the Wonderbolts. He then went on to show me a picture she had given him upon his retirement.”
“What I read there was the quote that made me what I am today.”
I closed my eyes, picturing the faded image of a smiling mare, the camera’s reflection appearing in the mirrors of her goggles. A hastily-written note was scribbled in the bottom right-hoof corner.
“Find a dream worth fighting for. Then give it everything you've got."
A long, pregnant pause followed. However, the silence was disturbed by a murmuring towards the back. I opened my eyes, my jaw dropping open when an all-too familiar mare slowly trotted forward.
Her mane was exactly as I remembered it in the photo, except it wasn’t sepia tone. The colors, while faded, still resembled her namesake. Her sky-blue coat had a grayer tone to it and was partially covered by a light sweater-jacket. Heavy bags hung under her eyes, indicating her age. However, her mouth remained free of wrinkles, which had curved into a weak smile.
“Rainbow… Dash?” I murmured aloud.
Her drooping ears perked up at the name, her fuchsia irises glowing brightly among the dull colors of her mane. “Jet… is it really you?” She asked hesitantly. Her voice was somewhat raspy, but still retained a spark of youth to it.
Unsure of what to say, shocked to find that my childhood hero knew my name, I mumbled, “Th-that’s my name.”
Suddenly envigorated, the filly galloped up to the top of the stairs I was standing on. Throwing her forelegs over my back in a tight embrace, she pulled me close. “It's really you! You haven't aged a day!” She exclaimed in a voice that didn’t seem to match her apparent age.
Confused, I quickly pushed her off. “Whoa, whoa! Easy there, Mrs. Dash!” I cried, stepping back. “How do you know me? Did my grandpa tell you?” I asked.
Rainbow Dash looked horribly confused. "Jet, it’s me! Don’t you remember?!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Remember? Have we met?"
I regretted what I said in an instant. Her expression switched from confusion to despair. “Jet..? You really don't remember anything?” She asked, now seeming desperate.
"Did Granddad Soarin' have you visit me when I was a foal?" I offered. "Besides that, I wanted to say that it's an honor to..."
I froze at her lost expression. She stared at me with deep, emotional conflict. Her legs began to shake, her breathing now accelerating. Suddenly worried, I took a tentative hoofstep towards her. “Mrs. Dash?” I asked.
Her knees buckled, causing her to crumple to the ground. She began to convulse, gripping her chest tightly. “N-not now…” She groaned weakly, her mouth clamping shut as another wave of pain hit her.
I had seen this before. My Granddad Soarin’ was killed by the very illness that provoked these kinds of spasms. Rushing to the old mare’s side, I rolled her so she was on her back.
“She’s having a heart attack! You!” I pointed at the reporter who had asked me about my inspiration. “Call a doctor! Now!”
I quickly looked down at the mare, who was clutching her chest, struggling to work through the pain. “Hang in there, ma’am. You’re going to be just fine.” I said in the most comforting tone possible. To be honest, I really didn’t know if she was going to be fine. Granddad Soarin’ died in my father’s arms after several seconds.
"Do you have anything to help? Nitroglycerin pills? Miss Dash!" Fearing that she was passing, I gave her a brisk shake. “Miss Dash, stay with me. The paramedics are on their way!” I advised, putting my hoof on hers.
Sure enough, several paramedic ponies burst through the entrance, clearing the way for two unicorns. Rainbow was enveloped in twin auras of a golden yellow and spearmint green, her faded sweater-jacket tumbling from her shoulders. “Whoa, wait!” I cried, scooping up the sweater-jacket and following the paramedics out the door.
They quickly loaded the blue Pegasus on the cart, two sturdy-looking Pegasi manning the front. I tried to approach the vehicle, but two paramedics blocked my advance. “Sorry, sir. There’s only room for the patient and the two unicorns. You’ll need to wait here.” One of them advised. I tried to butt in with an explanation, but they quickly cut me off. “No exceptions. Even for you, Mr. Jetstream.”
“Can’t I just fly with you guys to the hospital?”
“Even if you did, you’d have to wait outside. You’d need to check in at the front desk on the first floor. This Pegasus needs to get to our urgent care unit on the top floor.” I looked up, searching for a loophole in his explanation.
However, none came to mind as the cart drifted away, pulled by the two male Pegasi attached to the front. I watched them go, feeling defeated and somewhat helpless.
Doubt and worry bubbled between my ears.
--
I lay in my double-queen-sized bed, eyes wide open. Rainbow Dash’s rosy irises were burned into my memory, staring back at me with a disconcerting amount of familiarity. How did she recognize me if she’d never met me before? I immediately berated myself for quickly forgetting about my fame. Television. Duh.
However, I recalled her next words: 'You really don’t remember me?'
They sent a chill down my spine. While it was partially intriguing that we had some sort of history, it made no sense. We had at least a couple generations of ponies between us. While Granddad Soarin had known her personally, he had retired from the Wonderbolts long before I was even born.
Rolling back towards my nightstand, I glanced back at the clock. 4AM I rolled back over, rubbing my eyes furiously. Morning weights starts in two hours! I don’t have time for this! I thought exasperatedly.
A few seconds later, I rolled out of bed, grabbing the sweater-jacket off of the nightstand.
--
Manehatten Central Hospital sat before me, the front lobby lights still shining brightly among the other city buildings. Celestia’s sun was already warming the skies with its rays, the red-hot orb slowly emerging over the mountains in the distance.
The automatic glass doors hissed open, a small chime announcing my entrance. The clean, alabaster-white interior of the hospital temporarily blinded me as my eyes adjusted. I gave the room a quick glance. Two rows of benches sat back-to-back in four columns. Most of the chairs were empty; only a few scattered occupants sat in the far corner, all looking quite upset. I couldn’t help but feel bad for them as I approached the front desk.
“Uh, ma’am?” I asked the receptionist hesitantly.
“Oh, hello, Jetstream!” She exclaimed happily.
“SHH!” I hissed. I glanced back at those in the waiting area. They didn’t even glance up at us. I turned back to the confused receptionist and sighed. “Sorry. I don’t want anypony knowing that I’m here,” I explained.
“No, I'm sorry. I admit I got carried away.” She whispered, giving me a sheepish grin.
“Anyways, I was wondering if I could check up on a Pegasus that checked in here earlier.” I said, keeping my voice low.
The receptionist looked perturbed. “The one that came from your Q&A Session?” She asked.
I grinned. “That’s the one.”
Looking around, the filly suddenly looked awfully nervous. “Look… I don’t know how to break this to you, Jetstream…” She started.
My grin disappeared. “Did she get worse?” I asked.
“She died two hours ago.” The receptionist answered.