Someone Still Loves You

by brokenimage321

39. Doctor's

“Hey, Squirt,” Rainbow said suddenly, “I’ve been thinkin’.”

Scootaloo looked up from her bowl of cereal. “Thinkin’ about what?” she asked.

Rainbow took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking that... that maybe it’s time for us to go back to Cloudsdale.”

It was about a week after they had fallen asleep together on the couch. There had been a few rough patches since, but they weren’t as rough as they had been. Not by a long shot. They had yet to get as close as they had on that night, but at least they’d managed to get through most meals without an argument.

But this breakfast was starting to look like it wasn’t going to be one of those meals.

Scootaloo bit back a jab about Cloudsdale, but couldn’t stop herself from narrowing her eyes. Rainbow held up her hooves defensively.

“I know, I know,” she said. “But it’s important.” She hesitated. “If you want, that is.”

Scootaloo put down her spoon. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she said cautiously. “What is it?”

Rainbow swallowed. “I was thinking… if you’re interested,” she added hurriedly, “that… maybe we could…”

Scootaloo gestured impatiently.

Rainbow took a deep breath, then closed her eyes.

“I was thinking we could go to the Flight Doctor,” she said quickly. “To see if we can figure out what’s wrong with your wings.”

Scootaloo’s wings gave an involuntary, angry little buzz. My wings—how dare she—

Part of her wanted to shout something at Rainbow—something that would feel wonderful in the moment, but that she’d later regret—and it was only sheer force of will that kept her from exploding in Rainbow’s face.

Scootaloo swallowed, hard. “Yeah?” she said, her voice quavering around the edges.

Rainbow cracked a smile of relief. “Yeah!” she repeated. “I know you’ve been living in Ponyville, like, forever, and so you probably haven’t had a chance to see a doctor—a real one, I mean. And, since I’m in the Wonderbolts, I can get you the best there is!”

As Scootaloo watched her excitedly blather on about Cloudsdale this and Doctor that, the fires inside her began to subside. Rainbow meant well, that was apparent enough. She should have known not to mention Scootaloo’s wings—but, then again, how else was she supposed to broach the issue?

Scootaloo answered her dilemma by shoving a heaping scoop of Wonder-O’s into her mouth.

---

Rainbow banked left without warning.

“Woah!” cried Scootaloo, scrambling to stay balanced. Rainbow’s ears flicked backwards in acknowledgement, and she leveled out.

It was two days later. The two of them, Scootaloo clinging to Rainbow’s back, were gliding in towards Cloudsdale. However, instead of taking on the cloud platform closest to them, Rainbow had made a turn, and they were now making their way around the edge of the city

Scootaloo pulled on Rainbow’s neck, hauling herself up higher on her back.

“Where are we going?” she shouted over the wind howling past them.

Rainbow flicked her ear again, acknowledging that she’d heard, but otherwise didn’t answer. The wind would have made it impossible to hear her, anyway.

Scootaloo turned and peered back at the blur she knew was Cloudsdale, regretting with all her heart that she had refused Rainbow’s offer of a new set of flight goggles. Flying with Rumble was always nice and leisurely, but Rainbow was flying fast enough to bring her within a stone’s throw of the sound barrier, passenger or no.

Scootaloo squinted, then her eyes widened. Rainbow’s new course brought them in line with a big, purple… something. Definitely not the doctor’s office.

Rainbow tilted her wings—gently—and the two of them came in for a landing. Scootaloo braced for impact, but, just before they touched down, Rainbow braked with her wings, then settled down on the cloud gently as a feather. Scootaloo nodded appreciatively. You had to hand it to Rainbow: yeah, hanging on her neck was like riding a tiger, but she was a lot better flyer than Rumble.

Scootaloo slid off Rainbow’s back and landed on the cloud below. Rainbow turned to check on her, and let out a little gasp.

“You okay, Squirt?” she asked. Before she could even answer, Rainbow bent down, licked her hoof, and reached for Scootaloo’s face.

Scootaloo let out a reflexive yelp—but Rainbow’s touch was surprisingly gentle. The wind had blown the tears out of Scootaloo’s eyes, leaving a trail of salt across her temples. Rainbow wiped at the salt until it fell away, first on one side of her face, then the other. Finally, she looked down at Scootaloo with a wry smile.

“You need a pair of goggles, young filly,” she said, half-seriously. “I insist.”

Despite herself, Scootaloo returned the smile. “If you’re gonna make me,” she said, “then, I suppose…”

Rainbow nodded. “Alright then. We’ll go by the store after the doctor’s office. But first…”

She turned and trotted away. Scootaloo followed her with her gaze, and her jaw fell open.

Hanging over the edge of Cloudsdale, bobbing at the end of a half-dozen tethers, hung a massive, purple zeppelin. Gruff, muscled pegasi were unloading stacks of crates and boxes, each attached to special floats that kept them above the clouds. With all the hubbub, this was obviously a cargo zeppelin. And yet, as Scootaloo watched, an elderly pegasus hobbled his way down the ramp and into the arms of his waiting family—children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, by the look of it.

Scootaloo stared at the sight for a moment, then jumped. Rainbow had disappeared into the chaos. She looked frantically around, then spotted her standing second in line at a small booth off to the side. She trotted up beside her and shot her a dirty look. To her surprise, Rainbow looked down at her, then gave an embarrassed chuckle.

“Sorry,” she said, “didn’t realize you weren’t following.”

Scootaloo very nearly spat some poisonous insult at her, but Rainbow bent down and gave her a hug.

“Forgot how crazy this place could be,” she said. “I can’t remember how many times I got lost when I was your age, when I was here with Dad—”

Scootaloo’s ears perked up. As far as she knew, Rainbow had never mentioned her family before. Like, ever. She held her breath, hoping she’d keep talking…

Rainbow held her close for a long, silent moment. Finally, she swallowed.

“Anyways,” she said, her voice thick. “Won’t happen again. Not in Cloudsdale. Promise. But, just in case…” She let Scootaloo go, then turned and walked towards the booth.

Scootaloo looked up, and noticed that the ponies just ahead of them in line were already done. Rainbow, her expression grave, stepped up to the bored-looking attendant.

“When are your flights to Ponyville today?” Rainbow asked, her voice normal again.

The attendant, meanwhile, gestured at a faded piece of paper taped to the side of her booth.

“Ten, twelve, and four,” she droned.

Rainbow nodded. “One ticket for four, please,” she said.

The attendant started digging in a drawer in her desk.

“One-twenty,” she said.

Scootaloo gasped, but Rainbow just reached into her bags and thumped a stack of oversized coins on the counter without so much as a blink. The attendant counted the coins carefully, then passed Rainbow a small, stiff slip of paper. Rainbow took it, but instead of tucking it away, she passed it to Scootaloo.

“Here you go, Squirt,” she said.

Scootaloo stared at the ticket for a moment, then reached out and gently took it in her teeth. She grasped it in her forearms and held it to her chest, just for a moment—and, though it was only a slip of paper, what it meant made her all warm and tingly inside. The ticket was a way home—one that she controlled. For her, it was more than a safety net. It was a sign of care and trust, perhaps the greatest she had ever received. From Rainbow, at least—and, perhaps, maybe even from Mrs. Harbour, too.

Scootaloo opened her saddlebags, tucked the ticket inside, then gave Rainbow a little smile. Rainbow returned the smile, then nodded towards the city.

“C’mon,” she said. “Almost time for your appointment.”

---

The doctor clipped an x-ray onto the glowing display box, then sighed. .

“Well,” he said, “this is going to be hard to hear, so I think we better just rip the band-aid off: I think your daughter has a pretty clear case of acute complex apterisis.”

Scootaloo, sitting on the doctor’s table, and Rainbow Dash, standing by her side, stared blankly back at him. Finally, Rainbow spoke.

“What’s… a-terr-isis?” she asked.

“Apterisis,” he corrected. “To put it simply: she can’t fly. And she probably never will.”

Scootaloo sucked in a shuddering breath. Every muscle in her body tensed, and her gut churned like she was going to vomit. She’d known it was coming. She’d known. Then why did it hurt this bad?

Every pegasus her age could already do loop-de-loops in the air—and several of them had been able to do so practically since birth. She could barely hover an inch off the ground, and that was only if she had especially good luck and a pretty fierce updraft on her side. Part of her had still been hoping that, somehow, she could still make it work—if she held her wings a certain way, or groomed her feathers differently, or, hell, maybe if she just tried harder—but to hear him say it…

Dimly, she grew aware that Rainbow was speaking. Scootaloo tried to shut her out, but her ears refused to close against her:

“Yeah,” Rainbow was saying, “but what does that mean? Accu-compla-whatsit?”

“Acute complex apterisis,” the doctor said, a little louder than necessary. “That means it has multiple causes, and it’s bad.”

“Ponish, Doc. What’s wrong with her?”

Scootaloo bit her lip, then peered up at the two of them. She watched as the doctor plucked a pointing rod from a hook beside the x-ray with his teeth.

“She has at least two separate conditions,” he said, speaking around the pointer. “First—” he tapped the x-ray of her wingbones “—microptera. Her wing bones haven’t grown in yet. And they probably won’t,” he added, tapping another spot on the x-ray, “because the growth plates have already calcified. And second—” he gestured at the shadow that indicated Scootaloo’s chest “—aptermys. Her flight muscles never grew in.”

Rainbow hesitated. “And you’re sure about that?”

The doctor hesitated as well. “Yes, I am.”

“No tests or anything?”

“This is the test,” he said, tapping the x-ray again.

“So what can we do about it?” Rainbow asked.

“Pardon?”

“What can we do about it?” Rainbow repeated. “There has to be a pill, or a shot, or something, right?”

The doctor took a deep breath and let it out. “Well,” he said, “there is a treatment regimen, but we don’t typically recommend it.”

“Why not?” Rainbow snapped.

“Because it’s time-consuming, expensive, extremely painful, and probably won’t work,” the doctor replied, irritated. “We’d basically be breaking, setting, and re-breaking her wings twice a month for two years. Like orthodontic braces, but on the most sensitive part of your body.”

Rainbow blinked. “Sounds bad,” she said stupidly.

“That’s what I said,” the doctor replied.

The two of them were quiet for another minute.

“So,” Rainbow said suddenly, “what do you think, Squirt?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened, and she looked up. Both Rainbow and the doctor were staring at her.

“Huh?” was all she managed.

“Do you want to try it?” Rainbow asked. “I mean, you’d be the one who’d have to deal with all that crap… but you might be able to get a working set of wings out of it. So,” she said, giving her a little grin, “what do you think?”

It took Scootaloo a second or two to realize that was happening: Rainbow wanted to know what she thought. Really thought. She wasn’t going to force her to get the treatments just to make herself look good. They were talking about a choice that would affect the rest of her life—and Rainbow was trusting her to make it.

Needless to say, Scootaloo was more than a little intimidated. But more than that—she felt somehow proud.

“Can I…” she began. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” the doctor said, cutting off Rainbow before she could respond. “I’ll give your mom some pamphlets for you to look at when you get some time.”

Scootaloo snarled. “She’s not my—”

But then, she realized she was no longer certain how to finish that sentence. Instead, she closed her mouth and gave the doctor a nod.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, that’d be good. “

---

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Rainbow said brightly. “Let’s go get a chili carrot!” She licked her lips eagerly. “Fresh-picked carrots, home-made chili, with this spicy mustard that burns just right…” She licked her lips, and Scootaloo could tell she was already drooling. “I used to come here all the time when I was your age,” she added. “Almost grew up here.”

Rainbow’s sheer enthusiasm made Scootaloo crack a smile, but it quickly fell away.

“I dunno, Rainbow,” she said. “I don’t really like chili carrots…”

“You did last time you here here,” she said, patting her abdomen significantly. “These were one of my pregnancy cravings. I couldn’t get enough of ‘em, back before Mom—”

Rainbow froze in her tracks. Scootaloo trotted alongside her and looked up at her curiously. Her face was frozen in a grimace of pain, her throat working like she was suddenly doing her best not to cry.

After a few moments, Rainbow looked down at Scootaloo. For half a heartbeat, it seemed like she didn’t remember who she was or why they were here. But finally, she gave Scootaloo a watery little smile, half-reassurance, and half-relief.

“Well,” she said. “Let’s give them a try, at least. See if we like them as much as we used to.”

And with that, she turned and trotted off again.

---

The waitress set down two plastic trays on their table with a thunk. “ ‘Njoy your food,” she drawled, before zipping off with another order.

The trays had barely hit the table before Rainbow snatched up one of its treasures: a long bun, heavy with a grilled carrot and dripping with steaming chili. She took a big bite, chewed once or twice, and let out a low, slow groan of pleasure. Scootaloo gave a little snort of laughter, then pulled her own tray towards herself.

Cirrostratus Chili Carrots, as it turned out, was exactly the sort of hole-in-the-wall joint that Rainbow would have enjoyed. It had very clearly been decorated before the return of Nightmare Moon—long before, if Scootaloo was any judge—and the owner had apparently felt no desire to redecorate since. Everything seemed to be frozen in time from an earlier era, the sort where young colts and fillies would head down to the soda fountain after school to share a chaste little milkshake together.

And yet, despite the cracked red vinyl seats and the scratchy jukebox playing in the corner, the place was busy. Real busy. Rainbow and Scootaloo had to stand in line for twenty minutes before they could even get in the door. And, when they finally made it to the counter, it turned out that the sun-bleached menu board listed only one entree: a grilled carrot, with chili or without, cheese and onions extra. Cirrostratus apparently knew their stuff, and didn’t have time to mess around with things like “variety.”

Rainbow hadn’t even had to look at the board. She ordered two chili carrots, extra cheese, extra onions, large lemonade. Scootaloo had taken another moment or two, but finally settled on just one chili carrot, plain.

“That’s all?” Rainbow had asked, looking down at her. “C’mon, it’s been a rough day. Get whatever you want.”

Scootaloo had smiled, then eyed the board again, finally settling on a side order of tater tots with a milkshake. Peanut butter, for old time’s sake.

Scootaloo watched Rainbow savor another bite of her carrot, then turned to pick at her own tray. She wasn’t quite ready to tangle with the promised spiciness of the mustard just yet, so she turned to the tater tots first.

“Try dipping ‘em in the chili,” Rainbow said, spraying her with crumbs. “ ‘S good.”

Scootaloo hesitated, but ended up popping the tot into her mouth, dry. She chewed once or twice, then paused. She reached out and took another tater tot, then another. She chewed quickly and swallowed, then took a long, eager draw of her milkshake.

Rainbow swallowed her bite, then watched Scootaloo curiously.

“You okay, Squirt?” she asked.

Scootaloo swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s, just…”

“Just what?”

Scootaloo looked down, blushing slightly.

“I think I’ve eaten here before,” she admitted. “Well, not here—but I’ve had the food.”

Rainbow cocked her head. “When?” she asked.

Scootaloo blushed a little harder. “Last time I was in Cloudsdale.”

Rainbow furrowed her brow. “But we didn’t come here last time we were…” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “...oh.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said.

Rainbow hesitated, then put her carrot down. “You, uh… you’re good friends with Rumble?” she asked. “Honestly?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“And it’s not because you feel like you…” she gestured at the milkshake. “Owe him, or anything?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Nuh-uh.”

Rainbow opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked down at her tray, then picked up her carrot.

“Nice… to have a friend like that,” she said. “Try not to let him go.”

And, before Scootaloo could respond, Rainbow took another bite of her carrot.

The two of them ate in silence for several minutes. Scootaloo was only halfway through her chili carrot when Rainbow swallowed her last bite, let out a satisfied sigh, and slumped down into her seat. She looked idly around at the restaurant, letting her eyes wander over all the signed celebrity photos on the wall, on the faded streamers hanging from the ceiling, and the cracked checkered tiles on the floor. She let out another sigh, then snuggled down a little deeper in her seat.

“Man, I’ve missed this place,” Rainbow said. “I used to come here almost every week I lived here. On the days there was a big show at the stadium, we’d all come down here together. I’d get a big milkshake like yours, with extra whipped cream and all that. Dad would get extra mustard, and Mom—”

And, without warning, Rainbow fell silent. Scootaloo had taken another bite before she realized that the silence was going on longer than normal. She looked up to see Rainbow, staring into the middle distance, her eyes wide.

As she watched, Rainbow put her forehooves on the table, then slowly stood, her legs shaking beneath her.

“Mom?” she breathed, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Comments

[OmniFox]

Bow and Windy are going to spoil the hay out of Scootaloo!!!

[Rawislon03]

10776986
I don’t think it’s going to be the same Bow and Windy we know and love. I’m just theorising, but I think they may have thrown her out of the house in reaction to her teenage pregnancy.

(I posted this comment, and then went out to see that there’s a new chapter.)