Collapse, Collide

by Zombificus

Revelations

Pleasant silence filled the air between the two fillies ambling lazily along Ponyville's main street, content just to soak in the evening sun as it began its descent to meet the horizon. The smaller of the pair frowned, slowing as she lit her horn. The amber glow shifted her golden mop of a mane out of her eyes, then faded as her face returned to an innocent smile and her hooves trotted at a faster pace.

The larger of the two turned her head to see why her companion had dropped behind, but simply closed her mouth and smiled when she saw her friend scurry to return to her side. For a moment longer, they both basked in the quiet sounds of the town, before the larger of the pair opened her mouth again and turned once more to the filly beside her.

"Hey, Dinky?" She asked.

"Yeah, Diamond?" Replied Dinky.

"I've been thinking..." She began, lamely. "About Auburn, I mean. I don't think she's doing so well lately, you know?"

"Mm-hm." Dinky said, uncharacteristically quiet. She inclined her head towards Diamond, her unspoken words ringing clear in the other filly's head: "Go on."

"Well, she didn't take the idea we were ignoring her well, did she? I think I have an idea why, though." Diamond paused, chewing her lip, then continued. "We... uh, we had a bit of an argument in the hospital the other day. You weren't there - still visiting family, I think - but you know Copper ended up in hospital as well as her mum. Well, the reason for that was Copper's got a phobia of hospitals, which apparently Auburn's sort of treated like a joke for years, and when she got to the hospital she started having a panic attack. Auburn just yelled at her, so I told her to go inside while I tried to get Copper to calm down. That didn't work, obviously. She had an asthma attack and, well, you know the rest."

Dinky nodded, listening hard.

"But anyway, when I found out how Auburn had treated her I was really mad. Like, furious mad. I said a lot of things to her that I... well, I don't regret saying them, not after all the crap she put Copper through, but they weren't nice. Where I'm going with this is, well, she and I have been on kinda shaky ground since then even if we both made up, and I guess she might have been worried about losing me completely. And then there's you."

On hearing this, Dinky actually slowed down, tilting her head sideways as her gold eyes blinked confusedly.

"Me?" She asked, incredulous.

Diamond turned to Dinky and slowed down to match her pace, then stopped completely and nodded.

"Yeah. I mean, think about it: you've been her best friend since she got here, and then suddenly, the day after she and I fell out, you're all buddy-buddy with somepony who used to hate you both and - from her point of view, anyway - both of us are ignoring her. I think she was scared of losing us, and she got mad because she sort of talked herself into believing it was really happening. It's not really logical, but she wasn't exactly thinking with her head, was she?"

Dinky frowned, then nodded. "No, I guess you're right." Looking troubled, she stared off into the middle distance, unconsciously chewing her lip.

"So..." Diamond began, catching Dinky's wayward attention remarkably easily. "Let's try to keep her involved in everything we do; I mean, at least until she's not so insecure about being our friend. She needs to get her confidence back, and anyway, it's not like either of us wants to lose her as a friend, right?"

Upon being given a plan of action, Dinky brightened visibly, nodding enthusiastically as her ever-present smile made its return.

"Right!" Dinky chirped, sounding more like her usual self. "Don't ignore Auburn - mission accepted, ma'am!"

She stopped to snap a mock salute Diamond's way, puffing out her chest in parody of the ever-stoic Royal Guard, then resumed moving, beginning to skip along in her usual manner. Diamond raised her eyebrows, but smiled nonetheless: she'd noticed something was off, but hadn't realised until then that Dinky had been walking like a normal pony - decidedly strange behaviour, for Dinky. Was this what Dinky was like when she was serious? Diamond was glad Dinky wasn't often in a serious mood, but it was good to know she understood there was a time and a place for goofing around.

Perhaps Dinky would be a better choice of pony to talk to about certain... things on her mind than she'd thought, Diamond considered. Then again, as memory was quick to remind her, Dinky was possibly the most proficient tease of all of them. Capable of seriousness or not, she couldn't really be trusted not to take the opportunity to tease with such juicy information, and if getting answers meant getting teased, Diamond could wait a little longer without outside advice. Still, at least they'd made progress on the Auburn dilemma, even if only time could tell how well it would work.

With the tension gone, the two fillies fell comfortably back in step with one another, heading slowly home with just each other the warm summer silence for company. Things weren't perfect, but they were getting better, and that was good enough for them.

*

Spirit Song smoothed out her cloak with a hoof, then stepped confidently through the door to the 12-Bar Music Club. She drew odd glances from the occupants as she strode through, both from her small size and her disguise, but her sure steps didn't falter under the attention. Much to the contrary - she tipped her head back to bathe her muzzle in the light as she shot a party-loving grin at strangers, then removed her sunglasses and stowed them in the folds of her cloak with a practiced flair.

Spotting a blur of mint green to the edge of her vision, she turned and trotted after the glimpse of colour, weaving through the crowd in pursuit. Quickly catching up to the pony, she noticed that somepony else in the crowd was making their way towards them, keeping pace with her easily and slipping through the gaps between ponies like a knife through water, the crowd reforming the moment she'd passed through as if she had never been there. Spirit Song noted the other mare, curious, but didn't waver in her advance.

Ahead, the green pony escaped the throngs of ponies and vanished through a side door. Spirit Song made to follow, only for a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye to distract her. She wasn't looking away long, but it was enough for the other pony, until then neck and neck with her, to streak past. Cursing to herself, she redoubled her efforts, bursting from the crowd hot on the hooves of the grey mare who'd taken the lead. Ordinarily she'd never have let herself be distracted like that, but it had almost seemed for a moment like Silver was... No, it was stupid to be so paranoid. What would Silver Spoon be doing at a place like this?

Forcing her suspicion down, Spirit Song slipped quickly into the side room just as the door swung shut and, spotting the mare she'd been following, called out to her.

"Lyra!" She called, turning in surprise at hearing another voice call out just the same. Barely a metre to her right, the other mare met her gaze in confusion as their mutual quarry turned towards them with a smile. With a start, Spirit Song recognised the gray mare: Octavia Melody, famed First Chair Cellist of the Royal Canterlot Orchestra. The words 'who are you?' died on her tongue as her breath caught in her throat at the sight of one of her idols in the flesh.

Octavia opened her mouth to give voice to the question in her eyes and took a step towards Spirit Song. Before she could say anything, however, the silence was broken by the joyful clopping of Lyra's hooves as she skipped towards them. The cellist turned to her and tensed up, while Spirit looked on in confusion, wondering why the older mare was so apprehensive of such a friendly mare. It did not occur to her until after she'd been wrapped, alongside her idol, in a bone-crushing hug that Lyra's friendliness may have been precisely the reason for Octavia's reticence.

Stunned from the unexpected embrace, Spirit Song simply sat and watched as Octavia grunted and shrugged off the musician's foreleg, glaring at Lyra.

"Luna above, would it kill you to show a little restraint once in a while?" Octavia rubbed her shoulder and winced. "Ouch. That actually hurt, you madmare. You'd better not have broken anything or you'll be the one explaining to Big Band why his top cellist is out of action."

Lyra's grin turned apologetic, but still she leaned forward, fluttering her eyelashes at Octavia, who simply glared at her deadpan, still making a point of rubbing her shoulder. Seeing the other mare's unimpressed expression, she proceeded to make puppydog eyes at her. Sighing, Octavia simply rolled her eyes and smoothed down her mane.

"Aw, cheer up, Melly, I'm only showing you how much I love you!" Lyra persisted, undeterred. At yet another eye roll, she dialled the puppydog eyes up to eleven and stuck out her lips in a pout. "Come on, you know you can't stay mad at this face."

Octavia sighed long-sufferingly, rubbing the bridge of her snout even as her expression hardened in a show of playful defiance. "I can, and I will, Lyra. And if you want to show how much you love me, go right ahead and clean that apartment of yours..." She trailed off, her gaze drifting to Spirit Song and back again. "Besides, if that's really how you show love, then I'm going to have to report you to the Guard for amoral behaviour towards a minor."

"Huh?" Lyra said, eloquently. Octavia slapped a hoof to her face, before using it to point at Spirit Song, still sitting in dazed confusion on the floor by the mare's side.

"The pegasus filly you nearly killed with that 'hug' of yours. Or did you forget about her while you were busy making your latest audition to clown school?"

Down on the floor, Spirit Song sat up sharply, spluttering in shock. "P-pegasus filly?" She stuttered, forgetting to hide her accent in her surprise.

Octavia turned to her and smiled kindly. "Dear.... your wings are showing," she explained, gesturing to the appendages in question.

Spirit Song looked round to see with a mortified blush that her wings were, in fact, partly extended, and, in a joint effort with Lyra's hug, had knocked the cape from its precarious perch on her head. Realising she'd been revealed as the impostor she was, she froze up in anticipation of Lyra's reaction. Her attempt to make an excuse for her lie simply came out as a pitiful squeak and she shrank into herself in shame and embarrassment, staring at the floor with her ears pinned back.

"Uh..." began Octavia, her face awash with confusion. She shut her mouth and sat back in expectation, but Lyra seemed as at a loss as she was, and no matter how many times she gestured for the unicorn to say something - it was her friend, after all - Lyra remained silent. The filly on the floor seemed content to try and disappear into herself, and for the longest time, nopony said anything.

When, after an interminable amount of time, the awkward silence was broken, it was by a newly-resolute Lyra. She crouched down so that her eyes were level with Spirit Song's, and rested a mint-coloured hoof gently on the filly's withers.

"Hey, it's okay Spirit... Seriously, it's fine; I'm not surprised you aren't who you said. I mean, I went along with it, but I figured it was more likely you were just some filly sneaking out, y'know?"

Shakily, Spirit looked up and met her eyes, which to her great surprise genuinely seemed empty of the outrage she'd expected.

"...You're not mad?"

Lyra shook her head emphatically, her mane flying every which way and falling in a messy heap over her eyes. Leaning to one side to shift it out of her view, the unicorn smiled good-naturedly and explained.

"Nah. Was pretty obvious you were no zebra, but it was none of my business to pry. I'm not mad you lied, filly, so don't worry about that, 'kay? I am glad you came along, though: I play best when I know I have friends in the audience."

Spirit Song's bewilderment grew tenfold. "You'd call me a friend?" She asked, incredulously.

Lyra, to the filly's unending confusion, simply nodded like it was no big deal. "Sure I would. I mean, you showed up to see me play: that's more than most ponies I meet bother to do."

If her actions were baffling to Spirit Song, her reasons were even more so. "Why not?" Spirit asked, crooking an eyebrow. "It's a free show, isn't it?"

The unicorn nodded again, though with a tinge of sadness tugging her ears and the corners of her mouth down.

"Yeah, the show's free - that's not the problem. Problem is, 'cause I'm not playing music for a living, ponies think I must be bad or something. Apparently having a big permanent picture of a lyre on both minty flanks ain't enough for them... Some ponies, honestly - whatever happened to 'got the mark, got the job'?"

"Sorry to hear that, really, but I can't say I'm surprised." Spirit said, trying to inject as much sympathy into her voice as she could so that her new 'friend' wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Luckily, Lyra simply frowned, an eyebrow crooked in confusion. "No? Why not?"

"Well, 'Got the mark' isn't really a thing in Canterlot, and most of the music scene dances on Canterlot-made strings. As far as they're concerned, if you don't have the job, the mark's not for music."

Spirit explained this carefully, so as not to seem to be placing the blame on Lyra, but still watched the unicorn's expression closely. Lyra's eyes widened, and she nodded; Spirit Song let out a sigh of relief.

"That... that would explain a few things." She trailed off and turned to Octavia with a curious expression. "Hey, d'you think that might have been why you had so much trouble getting into the Orchestra, eh, Melly?"

The cellist frowned, staying silent for a few moments, then relaxed her expression and shrugged unconcernedly.

"Perhaps. I wouldn't have thought it was the only reason, though, and since I'm in, I hardly think it's worth worrying about now." Looking from Lyra, Octavia then turned a concerned, almost motherly expression towards Spirit Song. "I'm sorry to ruin the friendly chat you two had going there, but I have to know... are you here alone? And, if I may be so bold as to ask, why were you in disguise?"

Spirit Song froze under the expectant gaze of her idol, her mouth going dry and her eyes widening as she found herself pinned in place under a pair of violet spotlights.

"I-I..." She stammered, looking away in shame and preparing herself for the inevitable accusations, the angry words and raised voices. A soft hoof on her shoulder, however, prompted her to turn her head and meet a warm gaze and kindly smile unlike anything she had expected. Lowering herself to Spirit's level so that she no longer towered over her, Octavia made concerned note of the filly's distress. Being careful now not to come off critical of Spirit Song, when she spoke again, her voice was warm and markedly gentler.

"You aren't in trouble, you know - I never meant to scare you. I was just worried, that's all. A filly from out of town, here alone, isn't something we're all that used to seeing. I'm thinking you must have travelled a while to get here, and if so, that's not really a journey most fillies would take alone."

Spirit Song met her eyes properly now, but still failed to say anything, although her mouth flapped open and shut on a few attempted replies which all died on her tongue. Persevering, Octavia tried again, this time cutting her questions down so as not to overwhelm, and making sure her expression never strayed from its current patient smile and look of understanding.

"Hey, let's take this one step at a time. Are you here alone?"

"I-I..." Spirit stammered.

"Huh... Let me rephrase that: does anypony know you're here? Please, Spirit, I just want to know that you're safe here in Ponyville, and that nopony's worrying about where you are. That's all I want to know, okay. You can keep your real name secret if you want to, I just want to know that you're safe."

"I'm... I'm here alone." Spirit squeaked out, already trailing into silence even as she answered.

Octavia's eyes widened as she took this in, then returned to normal. Just because the filly was here alone didn't mean anything was wrong, necessarily, and from what she knew of 'Spirit', it wasn't too surprising that this was the case. Entering town alone, in disguise, armed with only a camera? Clearly, this was quite an independent filly.

"And does anypony know where you are?"

Spirit avoided her gaze, and after a few seconds croaked out a half-whispered reply: "No, that... That was kind of the idea."

"Oh. And is there any reason why you've come to Ponyville alone, without telling anyone? I mean, your family must be worried."

Spirit shook her head. "Worried isn't the word I'd use."

"It isn't?" Asked Octavia, bewildered. "Why wouldn't they be worried?"

Spirit didn't respond, and Octavia readied another question. Before she could ask, though, Lyra moved in to rejoin the conversation, having sat in silence long enough for her tastes.

"Hang on, Spirit. You're not... You're not here hiding, are you? From your family?"

"No, I'm not. That... That only causes trouble. I'm here looking for somepony. I, well, I was looking - I already found her. Only stuck around to see your show, really, otherwise I'd be back home already."

"Oh, well, thanks, Spirit. I've gotta ask, though, what do you mean 'that only causes trouble'? You're not going to get in trouble for being here, are you?"

"Not if I don't get caught... I mean, I don't wear all this for nothing. Even if I was here with permission, with Spoon in town I really can't risk her sussing out who's been following her."

"Spoon? As in Silver Spoon? You were here following Silver Spoon? That filly's bad news, Spirit; I wouldn't get on her bad side if I were you."

"I know, believe me. You had her in your town, but I've had to share a house with her all her life. I know how she works. She's bad enough on her own, but at home, Mother's her attack dog, and Father's her enabler-by-apathy. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be."

As Lyra fell silent to digest the new information, Octavia took her cue to insert her own questions into the conversation.

"You're related?" She asked, before running her eyes over the filly. "Going by your size, you mustn't be more than five or so years older than her. You must be her sister? Cousin?"

Spirit paused before answering to extricate herself from the balaclava, which had become more uncomfortable than it was useful, then turned back to Octavia and answered.

"The first. She's my younger sister, at least where blood's concerned."

Octavia and Lyra exchanged worried glances at this last comment, but said nothing. In the ensuing silence, Spirit Song had some time to think, finally coming to the conclusion that clutching onto her disguise's final piece was useless now that she'd spilled so much else about herself. Chewing her lip, she built up courage within herself and, at last, surrendered the last vestige of Spirit Song.

"M-My name's Silverspeed," she blurted out, drawing the two mares' attention. After a long moment in which both of them stared at the filly in surprise, Lyra simply nodded pleasantly.

Octavia, though she made the extra effort to comment, found she couldn't quite figure out what to say and eventually settled on something saccharine but inoffensive. "Silverspeed?" She repeated with a smile. "That's a lovely name."

"T-Thank you." Silverspeed replied, and with the end of that anticlimactic exchange, fell into an awkward silence. Quickly growing embarrassed, she soon turned to her idol and made a concerted - but no less awkward - effort to break the silence.

"Y-You know, I heard you play once. The Gala before the princess's student and her friends... erm... happened. I'm... ah, actually something of a fan."

Octavia, who'd likewise been musing on a way of breaking the tension, blinked in surprise, then smiled broadly. "Is that so? Thank you, Silverspeed. You know, it's not that often I find I have fans your age - with all that 'pop music' flooding the airwaves, it's a hard sell to get foals into classical. It's just not 'cool' anymore - as if 'cool' was ever a measure of quality anyhow."

"Right," agreed Silverspeed, and though she found nothing else to say, the tension had melted away during their simple conversation. Taking this lull and return to comfort in her stride, Lyra tried again to turn the conversation back to the more pressing matters which had started it.

"So, Silver, you still haven't said why you were following your sister. I mean, you've made it pretty clear you two don't get on, and that just coming here is risky for you. I'm just having a hard time figuring out what could be so important, is all."

Silverspeed sighed, took a deep breath, and pushed aside the instinctive responses that would distance herself from Spoon. One by one, the retorts that Spoon wasn't a sister in any meaningful sense, that 'don't get on' was an insulting underestimation of their relationship, and that 'risky' also far from sufficed to describe the situation sprang up and were silenced. With another deep breath and a sigh, she had calmed enough to respond with the only answer she hadn't yet shut down.

"You know what kind of filly Spoon is; the things she's done here, even with that schoolteacher interfering. Now, imagine how she felt when those ponies she considered most beneath her get her kicked right out of town. Obviously, she wants revenge. Lyra, tell me who usually stops a foal from going out and doing whatever they like to those who've wronged them?"

"...Their parents?" Lyra answered.

"Their parents. But Mother's just as fired up about this as Spoon - she's not just told her to go ahead with her revenge plot, she's willing to fund it. Heck, if Spoon asked her to, she'd take active part, and Father... well, as usual he's too 'busy' to intervene. The only thing holding Spoon back before was her parents wanting her to stay in school, and now that she's kicked out, there is nothing stopping her going full throttle, just like she does at home. If I'm not here to figure out what she's up to and stop it, ponies are going to get hurt. This isn't playground fighting anymore - if she gets to do what she's planning, whatever it is, it is going to ruin somepony's life. Nothing else would be enough for her."

Lyra's face was lined with concern, but the expression was tinged with disbelief. "Are you sure it would be that bad?"

Silverspeed opened her mouth to retort, but the return of an uncharacteristically angry Octavia left her momentarily dumbstruck, long enough for the cellist's words to make her own obsolete.

"Of course she's sure! You think, after all we've heard today, after all we already knew, after what happened to Diamond Tiara, that Silver Spoon is anything less than capable of this? She already tried to bankrupt Diamond's father over a punch to the face - how do you think she'd react to being kicked out of town?!"

"Sorry," Lyra repented, backpedalling under the sudden rage of her friend. "That was stupid of me."

Octavia, despite the apology, was far from done. "And she's got her mother's help. The same mother who went full classist psycho in Cheerilee's meeting. The same mother who's backed that little psycho every step of the way; every single thing she's done. As if the filly who's had to live with both these... these psychopaths would be anything less than sure, Lyra!"

Lyra, ears pinned back in genuine concern, was still no closer to understanding her friend's anger.

"Octavia, I'm with you on this, but this - getting so mad - this isn't like you. Maybe I'm missing something, but right now I don't get why you're so mad and it's honestly scaring me a little.

Octavia's eyes widened as she took in this confession. The very idea that Lyra would ever be scared of her was one she could hardly stomach, but the lyrist was right: there was something she was missing, something awful. Turning to Silverspeed, she forced as much of the anger from her face as she could and met the filly's bewildered gaze.

"Silverspeed, could you show Lyra your foreleg, please. Without the sock."

"Without the sock? Why?" Silverspeed's eyes widened in confusion, and then again as she understood. "Oh. You've seen..."

Octavia nodded. "Your sock slipped down while you were talking to Lyra. It wasn't exactly hard to miss."

"Miss what?" Lyra asked.

Octavia glanced at her, then back at Silverspeed. "Silverspeed, if you would."

The filly complied, gripping the half-escaped sock in her teeth and drawing it from her leg in a few sharp tugs. As she raised the limb, Octavia turned back to Lyra and directed her gaze towards the outstretched foreleg, literally trembling in anger.

"Look. At. Her. Leg. Lyra." Octavia growled, and Lyra wasted no time in following her order.

Lyra looked down at the limb, saw the crisscross of scarring which left the coat bare in thin stripes along the leg, the strange repeating pattern which almost looked like a cursive 'A', and the raised red flesh of the latest grim strip towards the top of the leg, which had been the one to catch Octavia's eye. Fighting back tears as she realised what the marks were, and how the filly must have received them, she turned away, masking her horrified gasp with a hastily applied hoof.

Octavia, having already processed the horror of Silverspeed's scarred foreleg, pressed on with an important question, already all but sure she was right.

"Your mother... She did this, didn't she?"

Silverspeed didn't answer, and Lyra, having recovered enough to see the holes in Octavia's assumption, voiced her objection.

"Hey, now, we don't know that. She's a piece of work, but I-I can't imagine she'd beat her own daughter... I don't want to imagine."

"If it wasn't her mother, then who, Lyra?! That 'A' symbol - that's her house seal!" She turned to Silverspeed, who had been watching this all unfold in shock, and pressed on, albeit softer now. "Silverspeed, did your mother do this to you?"

The filly turned her violet eyes to Octavia's twinned pair, tears streaking down the fur of her face, then launched herself at the mare, wrapping her in a tearful embrace. This was all the answer Octavia needed, and she began to tremble with suppressed fury even as she stroked a comforting hoof through the sobbing teenager's mane. Rage rose inside her like bile, until she could no longer contain it, and she opened her mouth fully prepared to spit a stream of vitriol at Silverspeed's faraway mother.

The reassuring touch of a minty hoof on her shoulder, however, gave her pause long enough to quell her fury, and a gentle nuzzle from Lyra turned her mind away from her angry thoughts. As her long-time friend joined her in providing a sheltering embrace to Silverspeed, she let the soft caresses of Lyra's hoof in her mane take away the anger until nothing was left but determination to make things better. Things would change, she promised herself.

Things would change.

*

Featherweight's room was silent, save for the breathing of its two occupants and the steady, rhythmic turning of the screwdriver held in the colt's mouth as he unscrewed the side panel of his spare camera, an activity he often took to when he had something on his mind. This silence continued for several minutes, through Featherweight's steady, reverent removal of each component, and the constant in-out rhythm of the foals' breath. A deep breath from its lighter-breathing inhabitant signalled a change, and the heavy sigh which followed heralded a greater break in the silence. Sure enough, Scootaloo raised her head from its despondent cradle on her forelegs and made a simple, sad statement.

"Featherweight, I messed up."

Featherweight, startled by this sudden comment after nearly half an hour of silence, looked up from the disassembled camera at his hooves and over to Scootaloo, who met his eyes expectantly.

"Yes, yes you did," he replied, matter-of-factly. In response, Scootaloo shot him a withering glare, at which he shrugged Even as he continued, he turned back to his camera, having heard this one in various forms already that day, but not one idea from his friend as to how she'd fix it. "What? I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Scoots - you messed up big time. There's no two ways about it: you're going to have to do something if you want anything other than a mess."

This did not win him any brownie points with the small-winged pegasus, and she redoubled her glare.

"You think I don't know that?" She growled. Seeing this, Featherweight shook his head and shot back a smart-alec retort.

"No," he conceded, "But I don't think moping in my bedroom is going to help."

"I'm trying to figure out what to do, alright?!" Snapped Scootaloo, her wings raised in impotent rage.

"Well, you've been doing a whole lot of 'figuring out' today and not a whole lot of getting out there and doing something."

Scootaloo gave him a look like he'd just slapped her. "What, are you kicking me out?!"

Featherweight sighed. "No. You know I'd never do that to you, Scoots." Across the room, the filly's angry stance deflated somewhat, though she still looked ready to storm across the room and hit him at the slightest provocation. Having seen this many times before on his countless faux pas with the pegasus, Featherweight ignored her in favour of finishing his point, hoping to get her back on side. "What I am going to do is sit here and listen while you tell me what in the name of Luna's twin moons happened to get you in this mess."

Far from encouraging her to share and hopefully get to actively fixing her situation, this seemed only to break down the barriers holding back the filly's tears and despair.

"And then what? You going to go up to Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom and, and paparazzi them into forgiving me? Face it, Featherweight, it's hopeless." Tears flooding her eyes, Scootaloo turned away and put her head in her hooves. "I really messed up this time," she sobbed, curling into a ball on the floor.

Sighing again, Featherweight abandoned his camera and trotted over to his friend. Once by her side, he sat down on his haunches and reached gently out for the sobbing filly. Snaking his forelegs under hers, he pulled her backwards and up so that she was sat on his lap, then wrapped her in a caring embrace, resting his head on the magenta cushion of her mane.

Scootaloo, who had tensed when he had picked her up, relaxed into his embrace and, without a word passing between them, took this as her cue to simply cry herself out into the fur of his foreleg. Featherweight passed the time by stroking a hoof through her short mane, and waiting for signs that she was calming down. Through the contact of his barrel to her back, he felt her breathing shift from sobs to regular breaths, and then begin to match his own with each passing second, until the two pegasi were practically in sync.

Eventually, Scootaloo ceased her sniffling and weakly wriggled in her friend's embrace. Featherweight wasted no time in releasing her, but remained close to the puffy-eyed filly as she settled into a spot just next to him. Silence passed over the duo as Scootaloo pointedly avoided looking at Featherweight, who was patiently keeping his gaze on her, waiting for her to acknowledge the message in his eyes. Finally, after the silence had become more than uncomfortable and Featherweight had adopted an expression which read 'Really, Scootaloo?', she turned towards her waiting friend with an exasperated sigh.

"Go on, say it," she challenged. "I know what you're going to say, so do it, Feather."

"I'm not saying anything." Featherweight replied.

This earned him a scowl from Scootaloo. "Oh, just say it, you interfering lug."

"You want me to say it?" Asked Featherweight, falling back on their usual teasing in the hope of getting his friend back to some form of normalcy.

"I want you to say it." Scootaloo insisted, giving him an unimpressed look, though he could have sworn he saw the corners of her lips twitch upwards.

"You sure?" He said again, pushing his luck now and knowing it.

"Yes, say it." Scootaloo sighed, with a hoof to her face. "Just get it over with. Come on, I know you; you're going to tell me how I need to get off my sorry flank and sort this mess out and blah, blah, blah. Say it. I know I'm right."

Featherweight, seeing a golden opportunity, grinned broadly and had to hide it behind a hoof when his friend looked back at him. This, he thought to himself, could be the thing to make her smile again. Dropping his hoof to reveal a face absent of his until-then face-splitting grin, he pushed his luck one last time, praying that it would be worth it.

"You need to get off your sorry flank and sort this mess out and blah, blah, blah." Featherweight said, straight-faced and even-voiced. Scootaloo rolled her eyes and a smirk slipped onto his face, followed by sarcasm in his voice. "Wow, Scoots - you were right! That's exactly what I was going to say."

"Cut the crap, featherhead," Scootaloo snapped. "You're not a comedian, so don't even try." The grin spreading across her muzzle, however, said something quite to the contrary.

Featherweight met her grin with one of his own, and they held each other's gaze for a moment, before the colt's face turned serious again.

"Actually, what I was going to say was... Well, if you want to talk about what happened between you and the girls, I'll always be here to listen. But... if you're not comfortable reliving all that, I would never force you to, not in a million years. You're my best friend, Scootaloo; don't you ever forget that."

Scootaloo looked away for a moment, wings aflutter, and when she turned back, her cheeks were tinged pink and a genuine smile adorned her face. The moment was a precious one, and Featherweight wasted no time in taking a mental snapshot. Sure enough, all too soon the smile turned to a familiar playful smirk, and Scootaloo put her tough-filly mask back on.

"Hey, don't go getting sappy on me, now, Feather."

Featherweight matched her smirk with one of his own. "Sappy?" He asked, pointing to himself in mock incredulity. "Me? Never."

"Good to hear it..." Her smirk faded away soon after, to be replaced by a thoughtful, if annoyed, look. Sighing, she answered his unspoken question with a long-suffering tone which hid her inner relief now that she was finally getting it off her chest. "Fine, I'll tell you about what happened with the girls. Sitting on it's not done me any good, has it?"

Featherweight blinked, genuinely surprised by the sudden turnaround. "You sure, Scoots?"

She gave him an unimpressed stare. "What did I just say?"

"Just making sure." Featherweight defended, raising his hooves in surrender. "You know I'd never make you ta-"

Scootaloo, sensing another speech coming on, was quick to silence her friend, though not without gratitude. "Yeah, yeah, I know; and thanks." She paused for a moment, in thought, then offered a nightmare scenario to her patiently listening friend. "Celestia, get any more sappy and ponies will think we're 'an item' or whatever Rarity calls it."

Featherweight's face cracked into a full grin at this last remark of Scootaloo's. "Ha, fat chance of that. You're already married to the Wonderbolts, and I don't take you for the kind to cheat."

Scootaloo met his laughing gaze with a full smile, working out the laughter before turning serious as she cut to the chase. "Yeah, no way... Seriously, though, I'm ready to talk you're ready to listen."

Featherweight nodded emphatically, and accidentally fell back into his usual habit of making overly sure. "Go ahead, Scoots. Just stop if it starts getting too much, okay."

Rolling her eyes, Scootaloo let out a heavy sigh of exasperation. "Okay! Sweet Luna, I'm going to slap you if you keep this up."

Featherweight took this latest threat with a smirk and a dirty joke. "Kinky," he teased.

"Do you want a slap?" Threatened Scootaloo, through a grin.

"I'm good, thanks."

"Then shut up and listen, Featherhead. I'm not going to say this twice."

Featherweight, recognising the change of tone, let Scootaloo know he was truly listening. "Whenever you're ready," he prompted.

"Okay," she began, unsure of where to start. "So, I guess this all started a few months back, when..."

*****

Author's Note:

... To Be Continued. (ASAP)

Goodness, this chapter was a pain to finish. I rewrote the middle section with Silverspeed at least six times, which is why this is so late (technically I didn't even meet my revised deadline, as it's 1:40 in the morning where I am.) Still, I didn't want to delay anything any further, so I thought just this once it would be worth working until it was done. Late as it is here, I may have missed some mistakes somewhere, but as always I'll fix those as soon as I know they're there.

Thanks for being so patient, and I look forward to hearing what you think. I wasn't kidding about the heavy stuff, but next chapter will be a little more optimistic, I promise.

I doubt I'll make a Monday update with how late this one is, but I'll upload as soon as it's done so that you have the second half ASAP. I'm going to have to try harder with the cutting down of chapters, I've realised - this was supposed to be half of the original chapter, and it's nearly 7,000 words long. So much for short chapters, huh?

Comments

[superfun]

I don't know if I said this already, but either way:
I hope that Silver's mother gets a Sonic Rainboom enhanced kick to the face.

[Zombificus]

7384689
Perhaps not Sonic Rainboom enhanced, but a kick to the face is one of the (many, many) possible things I've pencilled in for her fate down the line. The finale of the story is something I've had planned out for a looooong time now, and her part in it, no matter which possibility I choose? It's gonna be good.

[superfun]

7385679 I can't wait to see what it is either way.