Until that moment, the phrase “world came crashing down” was merely a phrase for Scootaloo. She’d had a hard life, but never had everything crumble around her all at once. Even when she ran away, she had a destination and a plan. But with Twilight standing in the mouth of the cave, taking in the sight of her surrounded by her few meager possessions, Scootaloo felt it viscerally as her world came crashing down around her. She tried to put on a brave smile. “Twilight! I was just… looking for my scooter! I left it here but now I found it. Lucky me huh?”
The firm stare on Twilight’s face told Scootaloo exactly what she thought of the obvious lie. “Where are your parents?”
“They had to stay in Manehattan for a few more days.”
Looking more closely, Scootaloo could see Twilight was breathing hard, and her mane was frazzled by wind and sweat. Twilight put a hoof up to her chest and spoke in an exaggeratedly calm tone. “OK, what hotel are they staying at?”
“I don’t know.”
Twilight’s voice colored with the authority of a pony who was not used to being denied. “Scootaloo, I need to talk to them. Where are they?”
Scootaloo’s heart pounded, her brain on fire. The having to start over, the hurt hoof, the sleep deprivation, the lying constantly to everypony, it all crashed against her psyche. And then, like a seawall battered by too many waves, she crumbled. “I don’t know! I never know where they are because I don’t even know who they are! OK?” she screamed.
Twilight stood there, stunned. Ever since the impromptu sleepover she had been pondering possible reasons for Scootaloo’s behavior. At worst, she had figured, Scootaloo’s parents neglected her. More likely Scootaloo was just rambunctious and in need of a little discipline. She’d never entertained the idea that Scootaloo was forced to fend for herself. “You’re an orphan?
“I live in the cellar of Quills and Sofas,” Scootaloo said quietly. “Or at least I used to,” she added, confirming Twilight’s suspicions.
“How?” It was the only word Twilight found herself capable of saying.
Scootaloo shrugged. “No one ever goes in there. And no one cares about one little filly hanging around town.”
“But how do you get food and clothes and—”
“I get by,” Scootaloo said tersely.
“What about your friends?”
“They don’t know. And you can’t tell them!” Scootaloo snapped.
Seeing a chance to earn some much needed goodwill, Twilight agreed. “I won’t, but you need to come with me.”
Without warning, Scootaloo bolted, forsaking her scooter, weaving around Twilight in a bid for the cave mouth. Twilight was too quick for her, though. She formed a shimmering strawberry bubble around Scootaloo, and lifted her a few inches off the ground. “Help!” she screamed. It hurt Twilight to hear the fear in Scootaloo’s voice, but she couldn’t permit the situation she’d just learned about to continue. Unworked gray stone popped out of view as she teleported, presently replaced with one of the castle’s guest rooms. It wasn’t quite the familiar setting Spike’s room or the library would have made, but Twilight hoped it would be close enough to put Scootaloo at ease.
“Please try to calm down Scootaloo. I’m not going to hurt you.” she said.
Scootaloo flailed for a few more seconds, then went limp when she saw there was no way out of the levitation spell. She stared at the floor, her lips clamped stubbornly shut.
“I’m going to let you go now, OK?” Twilight said, hoping to convince with the sincere compassion in her tone as much as with her words. Scootaloo nodded but didn’t make eye contact. Twilight gently set Scootaloo down on the floor. A moment later the bubble melted away. Scootaloo ran for the window, and again Twilight had to catch her in a spell. The room was forty feet up, and she’d never seen Scootaloo fly. “Scootaloo, please,” she pleaded.
She freed Scootaloo again, and again the filly ran, this time toward the door. Twilight held it shut with her magic, letting Scootaloo beat on it until she was exhausted. Finally she gave up and glared at Twilight, breathing heavily through her clenched teeth.
“I just want to talk, Scootaloo.”
“I don’t have anything to say to you! You foalnapped me!”
Twilight winced, because Scootaloo was right, both technically and colloquially. Her only excuse was that if nopony else would take responsibility for Scootaloo’s welfare, then it fell to her. Only she knew what was going on, and as a princess it was her job to fix it. How could any princess, any caring pony, not try and help a foal who needed it? “Are you OK? Just put everything on hold for a moment. I need to know if you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
Twilight noted that she shied away from her left hoof when she said it, but she knew wouldn’t get anywhere until Scootaloo’s temper abated. She switched tactics. “Good. Can you wait here for a few minutes? I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
Scootaloo nodded, her expression unchanged, and Twilight slowly backed out of the room.
Twilight leaving her alone was exactly the opportunity Scootaloo was looking for. She waited until she was sure Twilight was a safe distance away, then darted back to the door. As she reached for the handle, however, her hoof was deflected by a flash of magenta light. Of course Twilight put a forcefield around the door.
Undeterred, Scootaloo moved back the window, but though the glass opened—inwards—her exit was blocked by another pink pane. With an angry shout, Scootaloo pounded her hoof against the magical barrier, but it remained indifferent to her efforts. Like in the cave she slumped to the floor, unable to think of any way to salvage the situation.
Ten minutes later, Twilight returned.
Scootaloo punched the ground, determined to show Twilight just how angry she was. “You locked me in here!”
Remorse flashed across Twilight’s face and Scootaloo almost felt guilty. “I’m sorry, Scootaloo. I couldn’t trust you not to run away.”
Scootaloo just glared at her.
“I brought you some daisies and an apple if you’re hungry. There’s also a cupcake if you’d like,” Twilight said, levitating a silver platter of food over to her.
But Scootaloo refused to be placated. “What are you doing Twilight? Can’t you just let me go?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. Not until you talk to me,” Twilight said, sitting down.
Scootaloo crossed her forelegs and turned her back. “I don’t want to talk,” she said. Hers was a stubbornness born of desperation. She couldn’t tell Twilight more than she already had, she couldn’t come up with a believable lie, and she hadn’t found a way to escape; that left stonewalling as her only viable option.
“It’s late,” Twilight said, as though Scootaloo’s silence was just a byproduct of the time. “There’s a shower and a nice comfy bed,” she said, then levitated a stack of books over to the room’s nightstand. “When I can’t sleep I like to read. I brought you some Daring Do and some really cool science books, and I don’t think Spike would mind if you looked at his comics.”
Scootaloo remained silent and Twilight continued. “There’s a crossword and a maze book if you don’t feel like reading. I also bought you some blank paper if you want to draw or just write down your feelings.”
“Let me go, Twilight!”
Twilight sighed. “We’ll try again in the morning.”