My captain's uniform felt like trusty, familiar armor. The stiff material tightly hugged my chest, and as my wings poked through the holes on the back, something shifted in my brain. My uniform didn't sting my skin anymore. Instead, it was like putting on goggles in a thunderstorm: you know you've got a big problem ahead, but at least you can see where you're going. I sucked in a quick breath without realizing it, and then I nodded at Braeburn. "Let's go."
We stepped outside into the warm sun and the blinding white of the clouds. I thought about calling a cab, but Braeburn said he wanted to get one good walk in before the media figured out where we were. I cocked an eyebrow at him as we left my front lawn. "You sure?"
"Of course! After all…" Braeburn breathed deeply. "The air's mighty crisp. Not really used to smelling, well, so much nothin', and it'd be a shame to be cooped up in a cab again. Legs could use a stretch, too."
I smiled as we walked toward the edge of the Estates.
My wings tingled. You ever been, like, on your way to the grocery store, someplace you've gone to a million times? There's a route you always take, but one day, the road's blocked off and you have to take a different street? Walking to the Academy felt just like that. I absentmindedly started flapping a few times until Braeburn cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry."
It was about noon, and on a Monday like that, there weren't many ponies hanging around. Safe Haven stopped us for a few minutes to do a quick patrol of the grounds, but after he gave us the all-clear, we trotted down the street towards the Academy.
"You ever just walk to work?" Braeburn asked as we turned down Firefly Lane.
I shrugged. "Eh, nah. I can sleep in later if I fly. Plus, it's a good warmup. A lot of the 'Bolts go for wake-up flights, which…" I looked up and to the side. "I haven't done much of that lately, have I?"
Braeburn pranced along next to me, his steps lighter than they'd been in days. "Why not? Seems like a good way to start the mornin'. Wanderin' around the orchard at sunrise always helps me clear my head."
"Well, I… just haven't felt like it, I guess." I looked at Braeburn. "It gets kinda hard to take care of yourself when you're down, you know?"
"I do know. All too well," he said in a low tone as his pace slowed by half a step. "Just easier to laze around doin' nothin'. Tough to get outta that rut." He nickered. "I gained some weight after Bronze left, more than I'd like to admit. Not proud of that. Gotta get rid of some of it."
I narrowed my gaze. "Weeeeell, as long as you don't lose that ass."
"Ha! You got nothin' to worry about, Big Blue." He bumped my flank with his. "We'll keep each other on the right track, right?"
The sunlight made his mane glow, and my mouth curled into a smile. "Right."
We made it halfway to the Academy without any problems, but as we passed by a park – the one we were just at, actually – we heard, "Hey, is that Soarin'? Yeah, and that's his coltfriend!"
Braeburn draw a sharp breath, so I leaned in and whispered, "Just keep walking." He looked stiff, but we kept going.
Behind us, I heard, "Mr. Windsong?" Wings flapped, and the voice got closer. "And Braeburn, right? Can we get an autograph, please?"
When I saw Braeburn biting his lip, I turned around to a dark blue adolescent pegasus mare and said, "Sorry. We're in a hurr–"
"Wind Rider!" she yelled over her shoulder. "Hey! It's really them!" She turned back to us, eyes sparkling. "Really quick! Please?"
Braeburn seized up and cast quick glances my way.
I gave him a stiff grimace that I hoped said, 'It'll be faster to just do this,' and turned to the dark blue mare and her friend, a light pink pegasus. "Just one. We're in a hurry."
The mares squealed, and luckily, they didn't have cameras with them. We signed a few small pieces of paper, but Braeburn cringed when one of them said, "Hey! Could you sign this, too, please?" and whipped out a copy of Cosmare, the one with the cover image of Braeburn escaping onto the train.
Braeburn ground his teeth. "Where the hell…" He glared at her, and his voice was low, like a parent's. "Why you gotta wave that thing in front of my face? You really think it was such a pleasant experience that we wanna relive it every day?"
The mares just giggled to themselves.
"I'm serious," he said flatly.
The dark blue pegasus rolled her eyes. "Jeez, it's no big deal. It's just a picture."
Braeburn's eyes flared wide open. "No big–! Little missy, you might not realize it, but it's a big deal to us!"
The pink one sneered. "So just, like, sign it and move on, then?"
Braeburn firmly straightened his hat. "Ma'am, we've been more than accommodating for your little game of–"
The pink one glared back. "We're just trying to be nice, jeez! What's wrong with–"
I cut her off and nudged Braeburn towards the Academy. "Uh, sorry! We're–"
But he came right back. "Ma'am, I'm sorry for yellin', but it's mighty inconsiderate of y'all to be badgerin' us like this! We've got our own business to attend to. Didn't you think of that at all?"
The blue mare just sneered. "Who the buck do you think you are? Your fans are the ones that made you famous in the first place!"
"Our what?" Braeburn stomped. "Y'all don't know the first thing about us! And we didn't ask for any fans in the first–"
"Braeburn!" I shouted. A few passers-by had noticed, and four more ponies were heading towards us. "Let's go."
Braeburn snorted and turned around with a jerk, turning up his nose at the mares.
"Asshole!" shouted the dark blue one. Braeburn didn't flinch.
But walking away wasn't enough. It started just like these things always do, with one bold pony taking the first step. This time, it was a large, green stallion. "Wow, are you really Braeburn?"
Braeburn tried to ignore him. He turned his head down, hidden under his hat. I walked beside him, but soon, a second pegasus stepped into our path. Then another. Then, a few more that had been flying above us swooped down and landed on either side of us, drawn by the growing crowd. Their questions got louder, and the ponies began talking over each other.
"I thought you were in Las Pegasus!"
"Can I have a picture?"
"You know, my cousin's aunt lives in Appleloosa."
"Huge fan! I'd love to take you two to dinner sometime!"
I put on my usual polite smile and waved a hoof a couple times. It was annoying, yeah, but nothing I wasn't used to. This wasn't even that big a crowd – just a dozen or so ponies. I could handle it.
Braeburn, though…
Braeburn's breathing picked up, and then mine picked up with it. 'Dammit. Okay, we just need to find an escape route. He'll be okay if we can ditch these guys for a few minutes. Just keep cool.'
I couldn't fight the tightness in my chest though, and it only got worse as Braeburn huddled closer to me and tried harder and harder to hide. I frantically looked for a building to duck into or something, but we were in a residential area – nothing but private property. We were surrounded by a mob of ponies. Some were taking pictures, and they kept pressing closer and closer, sticking their heads and magazines in our faces.
"Could you sign this, please?"
"How are you liking Cloudsdale?"
"Lemme try on your hat!"
"Is Soarin' really as big downstairs as Cosmare said he is?"
All the color drained from Braeburn's face.
And I was pissed. I shook, and it took all my self-control not to lash out. 'For Braeburn's sake,' I kept telling myself. 'A scene would just make it worse.' I threw my wings around us, and we pressed forward. Slower. Slower. The questions turned to shouting, the flashes grew more frequent, and we had to physically push our way forward. Behind my wings, neither of us could really see, but there must have been two dozen ponies by that point.
Braeburn shivered and huddled close, and my heart felt like it was dissolving. I put my mouth near his ear, and my voice was weak. "I'm sorry, Braeburn. I should've–"
"Please don't start, Soarin'," he managed to say over the roar of the crowd. "Let's just get out of here. Please."
It felt like hours. We'd take a few steps forward, and then we'd have to side-step and press forward. Our little wing cocoon grew warm with all the ponies buzzing around us, and our ears rang from all the shouting. The air grew stale. Forcing ourselves forward took more and more effort.
And we were alone. There was nopony to help us. It wasn't like back in Ponyville or Haulahay, where we had Braeburn's friends and family to get us out. No, we were on my turf, and unlike Braeburn, I'd managed to alienate every pony that had tried to get close to me.
I grit my teeth harder and harder. 'Just a little further,' I thought. 'We'll be okay. They're just fans and they don't know any better and oh Luna screw these ponies!' My head felt hot, and I started sneering. 'We're boned. We're boned! We only made it back to Cloudsdale because we had help, and now we're on our own, and who do we have now? Nopony! Dammit!'
Braeburn pressed into me. I don't know if he meant to or not, but it helped. A little.
I growled just to keep myself from screaming. 'It's fine. We'll make to the Academy, but then what? Bottom Line's gonna can my ass, and then what do I have? Dammit, why'd I bring Braeburn here in the first place? Sweet Luna, I'm a dumbass.' My jaw was sore, and my hooves wanted to turn around and head back home. 'The 'Bolts are already used to being without me, aren't they? Streak's probably taken over my office by now.' I swallowed hard and felt a sinking in my abdomen. 'And he totally deserves to. He totally deserves to replace me.'
Suddenly, we heard a booming voice shout down at the crowd from above. "This is a restricted area! Disperse immediately!"
The heat drained from my head down the back of my neck, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The crowd scattered, piece by piece, and the stragglers were pulled off of us by a couple large, muscular pegasi in Wonderbolts Security uniforms. They made damn sure nopony else bothered us, and they escorted us through the gates and a few dozen meters into the Academy grounds while the crowd started reforming at the border, a colorful sea of wings and noise and flashing cameras.
My wings were stiff, and I finally let them rest once Braeburn and I had ducked behind the front office, Hurricane Hall. It was smaller than most of the other buildings on the grounds, but it still shielded us from the crowd. Braeburn stepped away from me and started shaking.
The security officer, a brown pegasus with a cream-colored mane, saluted. "Apologies, captain, sir. We didn't know you were coming. We would have sent an escort. I assure you, it won't happen again, and I will hold myself personally responsible." He bowed his head.
I sighed and straightened out my uniform, which had crinkled slightly. "At ease. And… Don't worry about it. The situation was out of your control." I waved a hoof. "I'll need daily escorts, though, starting today. Think you can look into that for me?"
He saluted again. "Sir, yes, sir!"
I stood up straighter and nodded. "Thank you." Braeburn stood on quivering legs, staring wide-eyed at the ground. I quickly added, "We'll be in the Green Room for a while. You're dismissed."
He didn't move. "Uh… Apologies, sir, but I can't do that. Orders from Bottom Line. We're supposed to stay with you during your entire visit."
Braeburn was breathing heavily, and his eyes were wide, and he kept staring. His jaw was tight, and he was silent.
I held up a hoof. "Look, could you… What was your name?"
"Eagle Eye, sir."
"Eagle Eye, could you give us a minute alone?"
He hesitated. "Is that an order, sir?"
I jerked my head back to Braeburn. "It's a request."
Eagle Eye paused and looked at Braeburn. "Yes, sir. I'll be nearby." He stepped around the corner of the building.
I looked back to Braeburn, who was blinking and swallowing over and over. He had the opposite of that relaxed aura, and he strained to hold himself together. "It's okay, Applebutt. Nopony's looking."
"Oh, Celestia!" He let out a shuddering breath and flopped onto the cloud, pulling his hat over his eyes and holding it there. He shivered again. I put a hoof on his back, but he flinched. "Please!" He wasn't looking at me. "Please, don't… I-I just need a second. Just gimme a second." He kept shaking.
He was throwing up a wall again, and it stung. It was us against the world, but right then, he didn't want "us."
But I needed to be strong for him. I sat next to him and wrapped a wing around his face, careful not to touch him. A few guards walked by. I stayed still. One of the newer recruits raised an eyebrow and started walking up to me, but I glared and gave a quick shake of my head, and she left.
I set my jaw and kept an eye out. Was it embarrassing to be sitting there, an outcast from my own job, crumpled up behind a building and waiting for something else to go wrong? Of course, but dude, screw that. Screw what other ponies thought. I needed to keep Braeburn safe. "Take all the time you need, Brae."
After a few minutes, I heard a deep breath from under my wing, and Braeburn sat up. He looked at me with those emerald eyes of his and then lowered his head. "I… Thanks, Big Blue. I think I'll be okay." He still wasn't touching me, but at least he was talking. "Just, uh, needed to catch my breath."
I folded my wing back in. "You sure? We can spend a few minutes in Hurricane Hall if you need to."
He shook his head. "Uh-uh. Might as well get all this over with." He paused. "But… I really appreciate it." He blushed. "Guess there's still a lot to get used to," he said as he stood up and straightened his hat.
I sneered. "Ew. No. Don't get used to it. Fans can be awful. Don't cut anypony slack if they pull stuff like that."
"Heh, alright," he said, wiping his forehead with a fetlock. "Suppose you're right. I-I mean, can you believe 'em?" He gave me shaky smile. "Terribly rude. I mean, one of 'em asked about the size of your privates!"
I smirked. "Miiiiight wanna keep it down, Applebutt." I cast a glance towards the wide-eyed reserves recruits that were marching nearby.
Braeburn turned bright red. "Aw, jeez! Sorry!" He pulled his hat over his face again and mumbled, "Let's just go."
We grabbed Eagle Eye. He marched in front, crisp but a little slower than we wanted. At least nopony else bothered us as we walked down the wide roads and past the cloud-and-metal buildings.
"Fire Streak's office is close, right?" Braeburn asked.
I chewed on my tongue. 'You mean my office?' My heart beat faster, and the air felt heavier in my lungs. 'Shit. They wouldn't actually do that, would they?' I said, "I… dunno. I mean, he, like, doesn't have an office, exactly, unless–"
"They wouldn't have given yours away, Soar." Read my mind. "They'd be afraid you'd raise hell over it. They've gotta worry about PR, too, right? And, uh…" He quieted down. "If you don't mind me sayin', you ain't the most stable when you get riled up."
I knew what he was referring to, but… "Uh, right." I didn't want to think about the carriage ride from his parents' house anymore. "Okay. So. Fire Streak's either with the team or in the Green Room. That right, Double-E?"
Eagle Eye answered without turning his head. "Yes, sir."
Braeburn cocked his head to the side. "The what?"
We had that whole conversation about the Green Room not being green or a room, and we arrived about a minute later. Maybe I was just tired of dealing with bullshit, but I didn't hesitate at all. We walked right inside to see the spotless floors and polished metal and immaculate walls with only organizationally-approved décor. Eagle Eye stayed close behind. We passed by preparation room A on our left, and Braeburn said, "Uh, I think we're here." He pointed to a door, and even I was able to read Fire Streak's name on the door's window in big, black lettering.
I let out a breath. It wasn't my office. My wings relaxed, and I said, "Okay. Not fired yet."
Braeburn let out a breath, too. "Good. Want me to knock?"
I looked at him. The corners of his eyes were down, and his lower lip stuck out a little.
I smiled. "Nah. I got this." I knocked, but we both noticed that the gem lights were off inside.
Braeburn furrowed his eyebrows while we both stared at the door. "So, do we wait out here with Eagle Eye, or–"
A low, snarky voice cut him off from behind us. "Nah, it's too clean and sterile out here." We both jumped and whipped around to see Fire Streak land noiselessly on the floor, all decked out in a captain's uniform that looked just like mine and nicely complemented his cream-colored coat and orange mane. He smirked. "Gives me the creeps."
"Streak!" I shouted. My chest tightened even while my shoulders relaxed, and two big feelings crashed into each other: the fear of seeing him in a captain's uniform, and the excitement of, well, seeing him in a captain's uniform. Jealousy and loathing coursed through me like lightning, but they were soon buried under a wave of relief. My muscles loosened. Maybe it was because we'd only seen Braeburn's friends and family for so long, maybe it was the crowd that had swarmed us outside, but whatever it was, I jumped up and hugged him. He was my friend. My best friend, one of the few I still had left, and I needed to believe I had at least one ally in the 'Bolts. It felt like home, and I felt a little more like I was back in my own skin.
Streak didn't get snarky or anything. He just hugged me back and softly said, "Welcome home, bro." We pulled apart, and he looked at our escort. "Thanks, Eagle Eye. I'll take them from here. You're dismissed."
He saluted and said, "Yes, cap–"
"That's sir, private!" He snorted.
Eagle Eye faltered. "Uh, yes, sir. Sorry, sir." He quickly left with his tail between his legs.
My internal organs churned over themselves again, but only for a second. After that, my heart swelled. "Dude, you made captain? That's… awesome!" I meant it. Mostly.
Fire Streak shook his head. "Interim captain. Bottom Line wanted–" He sighed and put a hoof on my shoulder. "Come on inside. There's a lot to talk about. But I've got your back, bro. Spitfire does, too. There's… just a lot to figure out."
He knew. He knew what was going to happen once we saw Bottom Line, and he already knew what he was going to do.
"Nice stud, by the way." He narrowed his eyes as we walked into his office. "And the earring's not bad, either."
"Heh heh." He could read me perfectly. He knew I needed to chill, and shooting the breeze with him was the best way to get my head back in the game. "Some stallion finally turn you?"
"No way, Soarin'. I'm keeping the mares. It really looks good, though." He turned to Braeburn. "Yours, too. Oh, hey! Sorry. I'm Fire Streak. Congrats on surviving your first brush with fame. It really isn't easy." He held out a hoof.
Braeburn shook it. "Thank you kindly. Name's Braeburn. Soarin's told me nothin' but good things."
Streak chuckled. "Liar."
"Well," Braeburn said, rolling his eyes and shrugging. "From his stories, you seem like a good guy, overall."
Streak nodded. "I can live with that. Come on in." He opened the door, led us inside, and gestured around. "I'd tell you to make yourselves comfortable, but that might be unrealistic."
Streak's office was… bare. It had all the standard-issue stuff – desk, filing cabinets, chairs – but on the walls, there was nothing. I'd expected a few of his awards or pictures or something, at least, but no. We sat down on the metal chairs. Braeburn looked around with a neutral expression, observing all the little pieces and the big whole.
Streak sat down behind his desk, folded his forelegs on it, and said, "I–" He blinked at us. "Sorry, just a second." He pulled his chair around his desk so that the three of us were all together, and he sighed. "Okay. Better. So, first question–"
"How was the first show!?" I blurted at him, beaming a smile.
He choked on some spit and let out a mix of laughing and coughing. When he'd calmed down, he said, "Aw, Soarin', it was amazing! Our stunts went off without a hitch, and we did all this stuff with fire – you're gonna bucking love this week's show – and the faces! Soarin', I could see all of them. They freaking loved it!"
I smiled. "No surprise there. You're a hell of a flyer, Streak."
Fire Streak scratched at his wing, which had started to flare out. "My parents were there, too. They even saved the front page of their local paper." His voice got a little stiff. "Turns out there was, uh, at least one that didn't hear about you skipping town."
My ears flattened against my head. My eyes widened. My heart stopped. "Wait… Oh, shit!" I hadn't even thought about it until that moment. The papers had been chasing us for weeks, and our story had completely overshadowed his. "Streak, I’m so sorry!" I closed my eyes and slapped a hoof to the face. "Aw, dude, that's awful. Sorry, Streak, I–" I felt his hoof wrapping around me again, and my cheeks suddenly felt hot. "You're, uh… really touchy-feely today."
He slapped me on the back and pulled back just far enough to meet my eyes. "All is forgiven, Soarin', at least on my end. I just hope you won't be angry with me."
I heard Braeburn clear his throat and adjust in his chair. He was picking up on the subtext, too. I said, "Thanks, Number One. But, like, what happened, exactly? Why would I be angry?"
His smile flickered into a frown for a second. "It's been crazy, Soarin', and I'm not exactly proud of how I handled myself." He glanced out into the hallway. "And I promise I'll tell you the whole story, but we need to get you up to speed on what's about to happen."
"Don't change the subject, dude," I said with an edge in my voice. "What happened?"
Fire Streak opened his mouth, but he didn't say anything for a couple seconds. He closed his mouth and held up a hoof. "I promise, bro. It's all okay now. Let's just focus on what's happening right now."
Braeburn said, in a low voice, "I don't much like that tone you've got. Makin' me nervous."
Streak pursed his lips. "Good. You should be."
"Why?" I asked. "Spill it. We've already had to wade through too much bullshit this month."
Streak nodded. "Long story short, Bottom Line wants to fire you."
Braeburn shrieked, "What?"
I exhaled. "Figures. Why didn't he just send me a letter, though?" I sneered. "He wanted to throw it in my face or something?"
Streak shook his head. "No. If he'd had his way, you wouldn't have set hoof on Academy grounds ever again. Spitfire talked him into meeting with you when you came back. And, well…" He looked away, and his face scrunched up. He spoke softly, and his cheeks were a little red. "I might have helped a little, too."
I cocked an eyebrow. "How much is a little?"
He cleared his throat. "Don't worry about it."
My shoulders sunk, and I narrowed my gaze at him. "Dude, you don't need to be so cagey. It can't be that long a story."
"It… kinda is." He sighed and shrugged. "Just trust me on this, Soarin'. We'll take care of it."
I felt a warm ember in my chest telling me to push harder, but I just said, "Well, thanks. I appreciate it."
Fire Streak blinked at me. "…That's it?"
"Hm?"
He flicked a hoof and cocked an eyebrow. "I was expecting a meltdown or something, or at least a little more swearing. What happened?"
I chuckled and jerked my head at Braeburn. "He did."
Braeburn blushed. "Aw, he's just bein' nice."
"No, I'm not. You just…" My chest warmed. "…you just do something to me."
He blushed harder and smiled a warm, calm smile.
I turned back to Fire Streak. "Plus, I've already basically been fired once, right? How bad can it be?"
Streak laughed. "Ha! Right." He sat up straighter. "But yeah, get ready to plead for your soul. I don't know what's going on in Bottom Line's head, but it can't be good. Spitfire said he's been quieter than usual."
I rolled my eyes. "Screw Bottom Line. How's the team been?"
"Good, mostly. Well, at least the last couple weeks. The reporters have been hounding us day and night, and I guess I don't have to tell you that one of them leaked the story about you."
He was talking about how the media had found out I'd been cut. "Yeah, I know. Ever figure out who did it?"
He shook his head. "Trust me, I wouldn't have been able to wash the blood from my hooves. It's… pretty easy to leak information if you really want to." He paused. "If we find them, you'll get first crack at them, though." He shook out his mane. "Anyway, things were tense, but we've kept everypony together. Spitfire and I have had a few talks with the team about it, trying to keep them motivated and focused."
"Heh heh," I chuckled. "Or terrified, in Spitfire's case."
Fire Streak snorted, but then his face relaxed. "Well," he said in an airy tone. "You'd be surprised."
"Okay, this I've got to hear!" I leaned in and flicked a hoof. "What happ–"
"Later," he said firmly. "We should really go see Bottom Line before he hears you've gotten back, if he hasn't already." He cleared his throat. "And I'm sorry, Braeburn, but you probably aren't welcome."
Braeburn's ears stood straight up. "What?"
"Bottom Line won't want you intruding. You'd just get thrown out by security. Or worse."
"Hell no!" He shook his head. "I'm gonna be there for him."
I turned my head to Braeburn. "Sorry, Applebutt, but Streak's right. The last thing we need is you getting thrown out to the reporters." He slumped a little, so I said, "Besides, I'll need somepony to bitch to after it's over, and you don't want hear the story twice, riiiiiiight?" I winked at him.
He sighed. "Alright, Big Blue. But call me if you need me." He got up and hugged me. "Love you, Soarin'. And good luck."
Those words always helped. "Love you, too, Braeburn."
Streak let us have a moment, then said, "You can stay here, Braeburn. Just don't tell anypony I left you unattended. We'll be quick."
Braeburn sat back down, and his tail flicked behind him. "I'll be waitin'."
…
Remember what I said about pegasi?
Streak and I got up and trotted out into the hallway. After the door closed behind us, he narrowed his eyes at me and asked, "Applebutt?"
I smiled. "You'll understand when you're older, Streak."
He smiled back. "As long as no earth ponies get me on my back, I'm good."
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." I looked behind us. "Speaking of getting pounded, where's Spitfire? Out with the team?"
A flash of panic raced across Fire Streak's face, and his voice cracked. "Uh, yeah!" He coughed. "She, jeez, she's taking this shift. Spitfire wants to see you, too, Soarin'. I'm going to go work with the team after we talk to Bottom Line, then you two can have some time. Until then…" We'd reached Bottom Line's big, imposing doors. We looked at each other, and Fire Streak gave me a stiff nod. "I've got your back, bro."
He held out a hoof, and I bumped it. "Thanks, Number One." I set my jaw and stared at the door. My pulse quickened. My wings itched. My head felt like it was floating, but I was ready. "Let's do this."
Streak knocked, and after a gruff "Come in!" he opened the door.
Streak walked in first. "Soarin's back, sir."
"I know," came Bottom Line's gravelly, clipped voice. "Bring him in."
I followed Streak inside. Bottom Line's room looked darker than ever, and everything was lifeless and static. The filing cabinets had gotten bigger, and everything was still eerily spotless. But this time, Bottom Line wasn't furiously scribbling on paper or poring over spreadsheets. No. With his black coat and tightly cropped white mane, wearing his white shirt with all sorts of patches, he just sat there, sipping his coffee. Waiting for us. Staring daggers at me.
I kept my shoulders square even in the face of his withering gaze. I could feel his eyes pressing down on me, trying to buckle my knees. I didn't budge, though, because as hard as he stared, I could feel something else, too. Two of them, actually: one next to me, and one down the hall. I wasn't alone. I was propped up by ponies that cared about me, and Bottom Line wasn't going to intimidate us.
Especially not when wearing that ridiculous pink sombrero.
Streak and I sat down on those cold stools of his, stoic, like two guards. Bottom Line slowly set down his mug of coffee. "You're staying, Captain Fire Streak?"
Streak nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You realize Mister Windsong deserves some privacy?" He didn't look at me.
"That's his choice, sir." He was motionless.
I was, too, and I said in a clear voice, "I'd rather have him stay, sir."
"Understood," Bottom Line said flatly, turning to Fire Streak. "But you're not pulling any stunts this time, Captain. I've been busy."
Fire Streak frowned intensely. "Wave Chill told me about your conversation, sir."
Bottom Line's eyebrows raised a centimeter, which is probably the biggest reaction I've ever seen from him. "I see."
"We do share a duplex, sir."
"Yes." Bottom Line nodded. "That doesn't change anything, so let's make this quick." I tensed up as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a large envelope, which he slapped onto the desk. "Mister Windsong, this envelope contains checks for the past three weeks as well as your severance pay. Consider this your official notice of dishonorable discharge."
My blood felt warm, but Streak had prepared me for this. "Sir, I don't accept–"
"No," Streak interrupted. "No, it isn't."
My head reeled back, and I looked at him.
Bottom Line sneered. "I don't want to hear it, Captain. You're–"
"Too bad, sir. I recommend you seriously consider–"
"You need to seriously consider the good of the team, Captain." His voice had raised slightly. "Your duty is to them first and foremost, regardless–"
I saw Fire Streak flinch, so I jumped in, "Sir, a dishonorable dis–"
Bottom Line slammed a hoof on the desk. "Do NOT interrupt your superiors, Windsong!"
"I don't need to follow your rules if I'm fired, sir," I spat. I could feel my chest rise and my wings start to flare in aggression. "But I'm not. A dishonorable discharge is only appropriate for a severe breach of protocol. It requires a court-marshal, which you haven't invoked." Bottom Line's eyebrow raised another centimeter. I rolled my eyes and sneered. "Yeah, surprise! I know the rules. You can't fire me for sub-par performance in the short-term." I felt the wave of momentum churn my way.
Bottom Line leaned back in his chair. "The process won't take long, Windsong. Your disobedience hasn't been a short-term issue." His eyes flicked up to my ear, which still had the yellow stud. "…to say nothing of your defiance of our dress code or the trouble you've caused in public, and besides–"
"Sir!" My blood raged through me, and my wings were fully extended. "No court would suspend me for the media scandal, either! It was clearly out of my control." Mostly, I told myself. "And it was a member of your organization that leaked my situation in the first place!"
Fire Streak's wings were out, too. "And, sir, a notice of dishonorable discharge without following proper protocol is, itself, a serious offense, one that could easily be considered coercion!"
Bottom Line snorted, stood, and slammed the desk again. "Keep your opinions to yourself, Captain!" he fumed.
"And you keep yours out of your decisions, sir! We all know you've got it out for Soarin', but that doesn't give you the right to–"
"You do not! Fucking! Question my professional integrity, captain!" He glowered at me. "You're right. I hate this son-of-a-bitch, and I'd like nothing more than to see him gone. But regardless of my own opinions, I have a duty to cut the cancer out of this organization. And if it means losing a great captain with a lot of potential, then so be it!"
I shouted, "Then fucking demote me, sir! Do it! You can't just throw me out for a fucking scandal!"
"But I have a duty to kick your sorry ass to the curb for going AWOL!"
I froze.
"W… What?" I shook my head and blinked, trying to parse his words. "What are you talking–"
"Two weeks, Windsong!" He sat back down, then violently yanked the calendar from his desk and slammed it back down in front of me. "You requested two Luna-damned weeks off, which this organization generously granted to you on obscenely short notice. As of tomorrow, you've been out for three weeks! Do I need to fucking spell it out for you? AWOL! Absent without official leave! That's a fact that no court would argue, and that's what's getting you the hell out of this organization and out of my mane this instant!"
My joints locked up. "No…" He was right. He was completely right. "I had to take care of Br… A civilian! D-Did you expect me to… to leave him for the media? That would, uh…" I was grasping for anything, but with every turn my brain took, I realized more and more that he was right.
"I expect you to take your job seriously, Windsong!" Bottom Line dropped into his chair, still growling at me. "And you haven't! So that's it. Nothing left but paperwork." He jammed a hoof towards the door. "Now leave. We're done."
I was out of options. No plays left. I wasn't a Wonderbolt anymore, and there was nothing I could do.
But I wasn't alone.
"Yeah," Fire Streak spat as he stood up. "We are." He reached into his breast pocket and brought out a tightly-folded piece of paper. He slammed it onto the desk and left his hoof on top of it while he stared Bottom Line down.
Bottom Line slowly shook his head. "That won't work this time, Captain."
"It will if you care about the team's future," Streak shot back.
Bottom Line sneered. "Wave Chill is perfectly capable of leading the–"
"Bullshit! You and I both know he's not ready, and so does he. Trust me. I've asked."
A terrible, terrible realization bubbled up in the back of my brain and robbed me of my breath. I stared at that paper. "Streak, that's not… Is that…"
Streak didn't stop trying to kill Bottom Line with his glare. "Three captains in a month, sir? Is that really how you want the higher-ups to hear about your performance?"
Bottom Line was motionless, his eyebrows knit. "I do my job, Captain."
My eyes widened, and my lip quivered. I realized what he was doing, and the weight of it threatened to crush me. "Dude, stop!" I leapt up and to the desk, right next to Fire Streak. He looked strong and defiant, just like the statues that stood proudly on the Academy grounds. "You can't fucking resign! The team needs you! They'll fucking eat each other alive without a strong captain!"
Bottom Line nodded slowly at Streak. "You should listen to him, Fire Streak. You've done commendable work in the face of adversity, and a lot of ponies have taken notice. Don't throw it all away."
Streak spoke evenly but with acid in his voice. "I'm not the one throwing it away, sir. You are."
"Streak!" I shouted.
"Soarin', just back the fuck off!" he shouted at me. "This is my decision to–"
My head whipped around to Bottom Line. "You're going to destroy this team!"
"Better than watching it crumble!" he shouted back, standing up again. "We'll rebuild, and if I can get a couple assholes out of my mane in the process, all the better!"
"This isn't your choice, Soarin'!" Streak yelled.
"The fuck is wrong with–"
"I'm doing what I think is–"
"I'll call security on both your sorry–"
The door flew open with a loud SLAM! "If I might interject? Y'all sound like a bunch of hens bickerin' over the best nest!" We all whirled our heads to face the door. Braeburn stood there, a wide, smug grin on his face. "Though at this point, that's more of an insult to the chickens. They'd never resort to this disgraceful behavior."
Bottom Line's eyes widened as he roared, "Who the fuck are you?"
"A concerned citizen with a big mouth, and if I can't say my piece here, I certainly know a few interested ponies out by the road."
"This organization will not be threatened! Secur–!"
Braeburn coolly shrugged. "It's alright, it's alright," he said with a mellow tone. "It ain't a threat, Mister… Bottom Line, was it?" He sauntered into the room, cranking up the western charm. He spoke slowly and rhythmically. "I'm simple folk, sir, and I just tell it like it is. Now, if y'all wouldn't mind gettin' out of each other's faces, I think we'll find we've got a mutually beneficial course of action ahead of us."
"This doesn't concern you!" Bottom Line growled through gritted teeth.
Braeburn shut the door. "Oh, it most certainly does," he responded, looking around at the immaculate room and nonchalantly resting a foreleg on a stool by the wall. "Ya' see, my coltfriend's livelihood is on the line, and there's a whole bunch of ponies badgerin' me for a story. I'd really rather not sell them what they'd like, but I need to eat, too." Bottom Line hesitated, so Braeburn kept going. "Now," he said, laying on an even thicker, even more boisterous accent than usual. "As the mayor of Appleloosa–" He winked at me. "–Ah know how valuable time is, so if'n ya'd give me just a moment, Ah will gladly take my leave and take this little blue troublemaker with me. Celestia knows he can be a hoofful. Just five minutes of your time. Deal?"
"If you don't leave right–"
Breaburn looked Bottom Line directly in the eye. "Five minutes seems like an awful small price to keep those reporters out of it."
The air was dead still, and neither Streak nor I dared to breathe while the gears turned in Bottom Line's head.
Bottom Line slowly reclined into his chair and crossed his forelegs, glaring. "Make it quick."
Streak and I both sat down, our eyes wide and mouths agape.
"Thank you." Braeburn sauntered around. "Now, Mister Bottom Line, Ah appreciate the work you do. Ah really do. Ain't easy, is it? Long hours, grindin' through a buncha paperwork, always bein' the bearer of bad news… Hoo, tough job. Mighty tough, and Ah can only imagine how much harder it must be with the whole of Equestria holdin' their breath, waitin' for ya' t' slip up, right?" He took a moment to appreciate the quality of Bottom Line's desk and run a hoof across the front. "So ya' don't. Ya' do everythin' perfectly, ya' make momma proud. Or, in your case, Ah'm gonna say…" He rubbed his chin theatrically. "Wife and… two colts? Maybe a filly?"
I thought the silence would kill me, but for just a second, Bottom Line's usually dull colors seemed to glow. "Top Rank and Sky High, yes. Colts. Melody Breeze is carrying our third."
"Heh heh," Braeburn chuckled. "Well, congratulations t' you and yours. Ah'd love to buy ya' a drink t' celebrate. 'Course, if it is a filly, Ah expect you'll buy me one back. Heh heh. Picked out a name yet?"
I thought for a brief second that Bottom Line cracked a smile, but if I did, my brain refused to process it. His voice was low and smoother than I'd ever heard it. "We're thinking Velocity if it's a filly. Haven't chosen a colt's name yet, but thank you. I'll pass it along." He adjusted his tie. "But please, as you said, my time is valuable." He glanced at me and sneered. "And I have a lot of paperwork to fill out."
"Why?"
Bottom Line's head rotated just to the left. "Excuse me?"
"Why? Seems like the team's got enough on its plate, what with all these rumors flyin' around. Ah tell ya', Appleloosa's a small town, and we ain't got nothin' to do but gossip, but sweet Celestia! Ah ain't never seen nothin' like this mess with Soarin' and those damn reporters. Buncha leeches, and trust me, Ah'd like to put it t' bed just as much as you do. Prob'ly more, just to get the flashin' lights outta my face. Feels like the most borin' part of Hearth's Warming all the time. Heh heh."
Bottom Line sighed and scowled. "I recognize that you care about Soarin', but he's bad for the team, and he's failed as a leader."
Braeburn stuck out his lower lip. "Huh. Maybe he's slipped up lately, but it seems like havin' no leader'd be worse."
Bottom Line shook his head stiffly. "You're not going to persuade me, Mister Apple."
"Just Braeburn's fine, and Ah don't need to persuade you of anythin' at all. Ah think you've already puzzled out the ideal solution, somthin' that'd put a lid on all this nonsense, lickity split, but maybe ya' don't think everypony'd go along with it." Braeburn leaned on the desk. "But I assure you he would, or he ain't gettin' any for a month."
I perked up. "Wait, what?"
"Mister Line, forgive me for eavesdroppin'." He shrugged and gestured with a hoof. "Terrible habit, sinful really – but it sounds like ya' don't much approve of how Soarin's been runnin' his team lately. Fire Streak, though, has been doin' one hell of a job."
Bottom Line glared harder. "Fire Streak's made it clear he won't accept full-time captainship."
"Huh." Braeburn scratched the side of his head. "Well, that is mighty unreasonable, ain't it, Soarin'?" He looked at me.
I blinked. "Uh…"
Braeburn looked over to Fire Streak, and his voice was especially bouncy. "Mister Streak, Ah am eternally indebted for how far you've gone to protect Soarin', but maybe we can all step back from the ledge a bit?" He snickered. "Well, Ah suppose pegasi don't much fear ledges, but ya' get what I mean."
Streak scowled. "I'm not letting him fire Soarin'. Not over this. It's not his fault, and I don't want to work in an organization that shows its captains no loyalty whatsoever."
Braeburn nodded. "Understandable." He gestured to Bottom Line. "But why don't you tell 'em your idea, Mister Bottom Line?"
Bottom Line's forelegs were still crossed. He mumbled, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Braeburn furrowed his brows and pulled back one corner of his mouth. "Now, there ain't no need to be like that. You're a smart pony, Mister Bottom Line, and Ah won't presume to know what bein' in your position's like, but…" He leaned more heavily on the desk. "Ideally, whaddya think we should do? C'mon now, perfect world, no complications. What's your preference?"
Bottom Line paused, then sighed. "Fire Streak would become the captain of the stallion squad. Officially, with no ambiguities. Soarin' would release a statement prepared and approved by the Wonderbolts' official channels of communication exonerating us of any wrongdoing."
Braeburn smirked and said, "Sounds like a nice start. And what would Soarin' get in return?"
Bottom Line looked at me and Streak. "Soarin' could remain a Wonderbolt, but we can't let his behavior slide. He would have to be demoted."
Fire Streak started in. "Hell no. No way will–"
Braeburn closed his eyes and held up hoof. "Hold on, Mister Streak. Let's hear from Soarin'." He looked at me. "Soarin', whaddya think of Bottom Line's proposal?"
I paused.
"Honesty, please, but let's try to be polite." Bottom Line turned to me, and Braeburn discreetly blew me a kiss.
For him, I could do anything, even if it meant swallowing my pride. I sat up straighter and looked at Bottom Line. "It still sounds like he's trying to get rid of me. I worked hard for my rank, and even if I've been screwed up lately, I've had a very successful career so far, and my best years are still ahead of me." If only, right? "I deserve another shot. Plus, if our policy is just to demote ponies whenever the media latches onto them, the whole team will be on edge."
Braeburn turned to Bottom Line. "Those seem like reasonable concerns to me. Is there somethin' we could do to fix it?" When he didn't get an answer, he gestured widely and said, "Anythin'? Mister Bottom Line, Ah'm lookin' at you."
He stared at Braeburn. "I can't put Soarin' back in charge right away."
Braeburn smirked. "But?"
Bottom Line let out a long breath. "But he is correct about his previous record." He looked between Streak and me. "I'm willing to allow Soarin' to keep his rank, but only on probation. Streak would remain the active captain for the time being, and Soarin' would act as a mentor. We'd review the arrangement after one month."
And then Fire Streak interjected with something I didn't expect. "Soarin' gets another shot, though. After he's proven he can reintegrate with the team. He gets to be full-time captain again."
My head turned slowly towards Fire Streak. His eyes were ablaze. Not with anger, but with conviction. He was serious. He was being presented with the thing that every Wonderbolt wanted – fuck, he'd had it in front of him for weeks – and here he was, still fighting for me. I felt small next to him, but at the same time, I felt safe. My eyes widened. 'He's… really doing this, isn't he?'
I remembered what I'd told Braeburn's dad Cortland back in Haulahay: that I'd never had a brother, that I was alone. I'd felt the same way walking to the Academy that day and, well, for years after Dad had died. I think… I'd forgotten what it felt like to have a family. I didn't remember that feeling, what it was like to have somepony care for you unconditionally and stick up for you when you needed it most. I hadn't known that kind of safety for years.
But Fire Streak was teaching me all over again. He was proving to me that he was more than a friend, more than even a best friend. He was my brother, and even if it wasn't big, I still had a family. I still had a home.
Braeburn nodded at Fire Streak. "Now that sounds like a good idea. What do you think, Soarin'?"
Dumbfounded, I nodded.
"Looks like we agree, but of course…" He turned to Bottom Line. "…it's up to you, sir. What do ya' say?"
I was pulled out of my stupor back into the moment. Bottom Line was perfectly still, and he stared directly at me. I held my breath. My wings twitched. His face was motionless, but as still as it was, it betrayed all the motion that was going on in his mind, all the little pieces that would decide my future.
A long pause.
A long breath.
Parted lips.
"Agreed."
And I nearly blacked out.
Braeburn tipped his hat. My ears were ringing, and it took almost all my focus not to grab Braeburn and start kissing him again, but I heard him say, "Well, thank y'all for bein' reasonable. Now, Ah promised Mister Bottom Line Ah'd not take too long, but Ah fear our clock's more than expired, so we'll leave ya' be. Any other orders?"
Bottom Line nodded. "Fire Streak will schedule a meeting this afternoon with the team. Spitfire and I will attend. Plan for an hour. Soarin', report for duty tomorrow morning. I'll assign you an escort to and from your home for the rest of the week. Understood?"
Reflexively, Streak and I both saluted. "Sir, yes sir!"
Braeburn smiled and calmly said, "Alright, then."
He shook Bottom Line's hoof. "Pleasure meetin' ya', and thank ya' kindly for your time. We'll be on our way. Oh, and congrats again on the foal." He casually bowed again and turned away, and we followed him into the hallway. Leaving that room, it felt like gravity had taken a vacation, and I wanted to fly forever. I was completely numb to all the pain and all the worry in the world.
And it was all because of Braeburn and Fire Streak. Braeburn's head was held high, and he moved with a gentle swagger, like the branches of the trees from his orchard, and he was just as sturdy as they were. But he walked quickly, too, all the way back to Streak's office, and he didn't turn when I tried to get his attention.
Braeburn opened the door to Streak's office, and Streak and I rushed inside. Braeburn had a strained look on his face. He gingerly stepped in behind us and coolly kicked the door shut with his rear hoof. His face looked stoic until…
"Huh-uh-uh-uh!" He half-neighed, half-sighed, and completely melted onto the floor. His perfect ass hit the tile, and his body shook. He ripped the hat off his head with a quivering hoof and rapidly fanned himself, and the sweat on his forehead was suddenly super apparent. His eyes were wide as he stared between Streak and me. "Ha! Hahaha!" He laughed between gasping breaths. "Hahaha! Well, that – Hahahah! – that went a hell of a lot better than I'd hoped!"
It felt like a warm thermal breeze was blowing behind me, and I couldn't contain myself as all the numbness flushed out of my body. "I fucking love you!" I leapt onto Braeburn and kissed him over and over, squeezing him tightly. I smothered him. "Braeburn, you were amazing! Holy shit! Holy shit!" My cheeks and the backs of my ears hurt from smiling. "Nopony's changed Bottom Line's mind in, like, ever!"
Fire Streak trotted up to us, too, and he gave Braeburn a big pat on the shoulder. "Celestia's name, Braeburn! We need to hire you as a spokespony or something. That was crazy!"
Braeburn hugged me back, then looked at Fire Streak. "Well, I do what I can. I'm just happy it worked out. Haha!"
"How'd you know Bottom Line had an 'ideal solution'?"
Braeburn snickered. "Aw, hell, that was just a lucky guess. Guys like that always have opinions on everything."
With another quick squeeze, I said, "Luna, you're brilliant." I stood back up. "We're celebrating tonight. Streak, you coming?"
Streak punched my shoulder. "Bro, I'm gonna be the smart one this time. Don't party your ass off the night before you come back to work." He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head back. "If you wanna host after Friday's show, though…"
My eyes opened wide as a bunch of thoughts flashed through my mind. "Dude, totally!" I looked at Braeburn. "We could have everypony over! They'll all want to chill after the show, anyway, and they could all meet you! Sound good, Applebutt?"
He smiled broadly. "I have been missin' the Saturday dances from home…"
"Done! We'll spread the word after practice tomorrow." Braeburn finally stood up, and I hugged him again. "You did great. Thank you so much."
"Any time, Big Blue."
I felt lighter than air, and the back of my neck burned while I turned to face Streak. "And, hey, Streak? I just… Thanks. I'm… not used to having somepony look out for me, and…" My face scrunched up. "Ugh, dammit. I suck at this. I just feel like we're, uh–"
"We're family, Soarin'."
I looked up at his relaxed, smiling face, and I smiled back. Fire Streak always understood me.
Streak spoke slowly with that baritone voice of his. "I mean it. More than just that thing we tell the team whenever they're down." He reached in and hugged me one more time. "We've got you."
I hugged back. "Thanks, brother."
"No problem, brother." He pulled back. "And hey, I'm not the only one that thinks that way." He looked toward the doorway, and our eyes all followed his.
There, in her captain's uniform and with her sunglasses tucked into her breast pocket, stood Spitfire. Smiling. "Welcome back, Soarin'."