It was three in the morning, and the stallion known as Union Jack was sleepless. He tossed and turned, stressed about the day at hand. He had three hours left until it was time to leave for school. Today was his first day at Ponyville High. He kept thinking about how much the other ponies would laugh at him, how much vitriol and hatred would spill out of their mouths, all directed at him. However, it was worth it to get away from Fresh Start Alternative Academy. Heh. Academy, my ass. he thought as he rolled again, wrapping himself in the sheets. They had hated him there. The new crowd was sure to hate him here.

La Ciénaga had been no place for a stallion his age. Too many gangs, too much crime, too much goddamned corruption. It had all needed to be cleansed, cleansed by fire. He had partway succeeded with his plan to burn the city to the ground when the cops caught him. His dad, Vigilante, had bailed him out and enrolled him in Fresh Start. That was the worst day of his LIFE. He would have rather rotted in Riftgate Juvenile Penitentiary than go there, but his dad was indomitable. He had insisted that Union Jack go to Fresh Start simply because he couldn't bear to see his own son behind the polycarbon bars that marked every cell.

Vigilante was a magnanimous father, loving and caring for his son, no matter how far he deviated from what he had expected. Hell, he even bought me the materials to make my first petrol bomb when I said I wanted to try working with explosives to earn my Cutie Mark. he thought. Both Vigilante and Union Jack were rebellious punks of the highest grade. Like father, like son, I guess. Union Jack chuckled as he thought of Vigilante's day job as a legal clerk. His father knocked on his door.

"Hey sport, I know you're stressed. Come out to the living room and we can talk about it." came his dad's voice from the other side of the door. Union Jack smiled at the sound of his father's voice. He bucked off the covers, opened his door and walked out into the living room. Sitting on the charred metal coffee table (I remember that summer. Good times, good times. he thought.) was a metal lockbox. "Jack, I know that tomorrow's a big day for more reasons than just it being your first day at an actual school. In case you don't remember son, it-"

"It's the third anniversary of the day I tried to burn La Ciénaga down. I know." His father gave him a worried smile. "No, Dad, I'm not going to burn Ponyville down. I don't want to buck up any chances I may have with the school." His father chuckled.

"I always did like your optimistic outlook. Very, very rare trait among punks like you and me. Well, I wanted to give you this." he said, opening the lockbox. Inside it was a small leather gas mask. He knew for a fact it was the one his father used to wear to scare a much younger Union Jack into behaving.  It usually worked. Now the white leather had been painted over with a lively Union Jack design (He chuckled in his head as he thought of the flag that had been his namesake), and the filters removed for easier breathing. Vigilante levitated it over to his son's head and slipped it over, letting his quincy punk mohawk-styled mane poke through the top. He tightened the straps experimentally, and said to his son

"You look like a different pony. A much cooler pony."  Union Jack remained silent, not sure what to think. Eventually, the awkward moment coaxed a laugh out of both of them. After they had finished laughing, Union Jack laid down in his bed again, drawing the covers tight around him, finding sleep at last.