Rainbow Dash's sense of smell was the first thing to come back online; the pervading scent was a tickly sourness, like the inside of her nostrils had been assaulted by a canister of bleach. With a bit of effort, she was able to get one eye open and take in her surroundings; she quickly surmised that she was in hospital, if the sickly-green pastel walls and grey tessellated ceiling were anything to go by.
Still, the balloons were a surprise; a mixture of yellow and blue, they bobbed as the breeze from the air-conditioning unit tried to yank them loose from where they'd been affixed with long purple strings to the post at the foot of the bed. There was also a box on the nightstand which, if her sense of smell was not mistaken, contained cupcakes.
“Oh, you're awake,” said a relieved voice Rainbow Dash dimly recognised. “Doctor, she's awake!”
A female doctor with light pink skin hovered over Rainbow Dash. Her demeanour suggested that she was one to always look on the bright side of things whenever possible, but if her expression was anything to go by, she was struggling to hold on to her optimism here. “Good morning, Miss Dash. I'm Doctor Mi Amore Cadenza, but you can call me Cadance,” she introduced herself with a waxen smile. “How are you feeling today?”
“Like I was hit by a car,” croaked Rainbow Dash in response.
On the other side of the bed was her father, looking just as he had done at breakfast. Possibly just a bit worse. He poured water into a glass from a pitcher on the bedside cabinet and Dash took it gratefully. “Thanks, dad,” she mumbled, wondering idly how long he had been here for.
Cadance smiled, but it never reached her eyes. “That's fairly common when you've been out for as long as you have.”
“How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
Rainbow Dash's eyes widened at the news. She'd never even been in hospital overnight before. “How bad is it?” she asked, gesturing to her heavily-strapped leg.
Cadance exhaled sharply and bit her lip, wishing that her job didn't have to involve delivering grim news to patients. Especially to kids.
“Oh,” was all Rainbow Dash could say off the doctor's bleak look. She had the uneasy feeling that she wasn't going to be playing football any time soon. Or possibly again.
“The break itself was bad enough. You were hit with enough force to push the broken bone through the adjoining muscle and tissue. There were some, ah, complications with the surgery to correct the dislocation,” Cadance explained unhappily.
“Complications?” asked Dash, her stomach feeling very hollow.
“Even under the best circumstances, resetting a bone is a tricky proposition, and your tibia was split into three pieces by the impact. It's being held in place by pins and screws, but it was just too badly splintered to align properly. Plus, there's all the attendant nerve and muscle damage.”
Rainbow Dash was no longer so worried about the prospect of never playing football again. Right now, she was more concerned with whether or not she would ever walk unaided. “Uh, so what now? I mean, am I ever gonna be able to walk normally again?”
“Oh, yes!” Cadance said, clinging to the one piece of good news she could offer, for whatever cold comfort it was. “You're young and healthy, so you'll definitely be up and about again. The break will take about five months to heal, and you'll need a lot of physical therapy to regain mobility, however.”
“What about … uh, sports?”
“I'm sorry,” Cadance said, her eyes closing slightly, after a moment's hesitation. “Even if it had been a clean break, the prognosis wouldn't have been much better. Everything below the knee will be quite fragile with the bone out place, and it won't have anything like the mobility it used to.”
Rainbow Dash didn't feel angry, or cheated, she just felt … numb. “Uh, you guys did your best, I'm sure. Thank you.”
Cadance nodded, wishing that there was more she could do. “If you need anything, just ask one of the nurses.” With that, she departed, leaving Rainbow Dash alone her father.
Rainbow Blaze was doing his best to keep his emotions in check. “Are you … I mean, can I get you anything?”
“In answer to your first question,” Rainbow Dash said more harshly than she'd intended, “no, I'm not okay.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“Maybe I should go? Let you get some rest?” suggested Blaze. He wasn't used to having to comfort his daughter. There had never been a time that he could recall when she'd been upset, at least not openly. “The girls said that they would stop by as soon as they were able to. Maybe one of them will do a better job of cheering you up. I know that Fluttershy is pretty desperate to see you.”
Just as Blaze was about to leave, Dash said in a quiet voice, “Stay, please. I'm sorry I snapped the way I did, I'm just … I don't know what I'm feeling at the moment. But don't leave me.”
“I'll never leave you, Dash,” Blaze said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Just tell me what you need.”
Rainbow's hand went to cover her father's. “For now, I just need you to tell me that every thing's going to be all right.” She smiled through a veil of tears. “Even if it is a lie.”
“Every thing's going to be all right.”
*
Sombra hated hospitals. As a child, he had spent far too much time in one for a variety of illnesses, and he liked to avoid them whenever possible. But he had important business and it couldn't wait. A nurse directed him to the appropriate ward.
“You're kind of the last person I expected to see,” Rainbow Dash said through a mouthful of food. Her parents, her friends, even Spitfire and Common Clay, had all stopped-by at one point or another to check on her, but she was not prepared for this.
The Shadowbolts' manager affected a faint smile, realising his fearsome reputation often made others wary of him off the field as well as on it. “We're not enemies, Rainbow Dash. In fact, I have the greatest of respect for you as a fellow athlete.” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “I'm sorry for what happened to you. Tall Order's tackle was completely over the top and if he was any kind of man, he'd come to you and apologise in person for his actions.”
Rainbow Dash waved the apology aside. She couldn't find it in herself to be angry at either the manager or his players; accidents happened in games, and it just so happened that some were worse than others. It was a risk you took when you pulled on the jersey. “It's not like you told someone to break my leg,” she said with a wry chuckle, amazed she could find any humour in these circumstances.
“Um, quite,” said Sombra anxiously, remembering his outburst in the dressing room. Something he sorely wished he could take back. He doubted anyone on the team had taken his impassioned rhetoric seriously, but as soon as he'd learned of the severity of Dash's injury, guilt had gnawed at him. “Well, I just wanted to wish you a speedy recovery.”
“Thanks,” said Dash. “I appreciate that.”
*
“Dashie, are you awake?” asked Blaze quietly, gently tapping on the door. There was no immediate answer, but the door was unlocked; torn between concern for his daughter and the desire to respect her privacy, he hesitated for just a moment before entering. He told himself that, if the situation was reversed, Rainbow Dash would've done the same; earning her ire momentarily was a small price to pay for making sure that she was all right, he reasoned.
Rainbow Dash was propped-up in bed; the small television opposite was turned on, but the sound was muted, and Dash seemed to be engrossed in a book of all things.
“Morning,” Blaze tried again.
“Mm-hm,” Dash agreed, her purple eyes flicking to the window briefly to confirm that it was, indeed, morning.
Blaze frowned. Normally Dash would've been out the door by now, running to the park or kicking a ball up the street, but at the moment, she wasn't even dressed. “You still have to stay in shape, you know. Can't let the comfy bed and tasty food dull your edge.” He noted that a plate of chicken pasta had gone almost entirely uneaten.
“I have to go to physical therapy three days a week, dad,” Dash said, not looking up from her book. “I've been told not to overdo it or I might put too much stress on the leg and slow down the healing process.”
“You've been told?” asked Blaze incredulously. “Remember when you were eleven, the junior cup game, you got that nasty gash on your knee after the badly-timed slide tackle? You were told to take it easy or you'd pop the stitches, but the very next day, you were back outside doing keepie-uppies. No one tells you what to do because you're the only one who really knows what you're capable of.”
“Yeah?” Dash muttered dispiritedly. “I should have listened to those people who told me to slow down, take it easy. I might not be in this situation if I had.”
“Fresh air? Sunshine? Your friends?”
Rainbow Dash snorted. In the three weeks since she'd gotten out of the hospital, she'd barely been able to see her friends; they were all too busy working, and it was nigh-impossible to arrange convenient times to catch-up with everyone and still attend her suite of outpatient appointments. Everyone was trying their best, and she didn't blame them in the slightest for having other commitments; they got together whenever they could, and that was … adequate.
Still, between the physical therapy, check-ups to make sure the leg hadn't become infected, and sessions with a shrink to make sure she wasn't getting depressed, Rainbow Dash was beginning to go a bit stir-crazy. “I'm good, really. I have Daring Do,” she said holding the book up a bit higher so Blaze could see the cover.
Her father sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. “We never got the chance to have that talk.”
“You wanna do it now?” asked Dash, her voice cracking just a bit more than normal. She'd almost forgotten about this mysterious talk her dad had been wanting to have; between the events of the game and her subsequent hospitalisation, she'd almost written it off as a dream.
“We've been putting it off for nearly a month now,” replied Blaze. “I don't think we can delay it any more. It wouldn't be … fair.”
Rainbow Dash found a bookmark on her nightstand; once it was in place, she closed the novel over and placed it under her pillow. “All right. What's up?”
Blaze looked thoughtful. Now probably wasn't the best time to say anything, but the whole thing had been dragged out for too long as it was. “Your mother and I are getting a divorce. It's, uh, we've been talking about it for a while now, and we've agreed that it's the right thing to do.” He paused, trying to think of what to say. “It's, um, it's no one's fault.”
“But … why? I mean, what happened?” Maybe she just hadn't been paying attention, but Rainbow Dash had never got the sense that her parents were at all unhappy.
“Nothing happened, as such. Sometimes, it's just a case of waking up one day and realising that the person you're next to isn't the right person. We just aren't making each other happy any more.”
“Uh.” Rainbow Dash was at a loss. Just when she thought she couldn't possibly feel any lower, whole new depths of misery opened up before her. “Right. So. What's gonna happen? I mean, with the house and stuff?”
“We're selling it and splitting the money. Doubt we'll get close to what we originally paid for it in this economy, but it'll be enough for me to get an apartment somewhere in Cloudsdale.”
“Cloudsdale?” she said in surprise, remembering not at all fondly their old stomping grounds before they made the move to Canterlot. “You're gonna back to Cloudsdale?”
“Uh-huh, yes,” Blaze nodded, feeling guilty about the burden he was suddenly placing on his injured daughter. “Your mum's talking of going to Ponyville. She has some, ah, friends there.”
“What about … me?” Rainbow Dash felt bad at asking the selfish question.
“That's … up to you. Your mother and I agreed to leave the decision for you to make. Whether you want to live with me in Cloudsdale or with her in Ponyville.”
“I want to stay here,” Rainbow Dash said morosely.
“I know, Dashie. I'm sorry. It's a lot to take in, but … think about it and let us know what you decide.” Blaze got up and stroked his daughter's polychromatic hair softly, offering her a tiny smile. “Hey, it's not like either place is on the other side of the world. A couple of hours on a train and you'll be back here with your friends.”
*
Sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night used to be little trouble for Rainbow Dash, but having to awkwardly manoeuvre her crutches around made the task just that much harder; she'd always had a pretty good sense of awareness, but that was when she had to deal with just her own body and the immediate environment. Having to lug around two ungainly hunks of metal under her arms was putting her off her stride.
Still, somehow, she made it to the kitchen without knocking anything over. At least, nothing too valuable and irreplaceable. Rainbow Dash took a certain measure of pride in the fact that, even encumbered by the crutches, she still moved better than most able-bodied people. Silently, purposefully, she rifled through the cabinets until she found what she was looking for.
There was one rule when it came to pilfering alcohol from your parents' stash: never take anything from the front or back. The stuff sitting at the front was likely what they drank most often, and the stuff at the back was usually reserved for special occasions. There were three dark, mysterious-looking bottles arranged in a rough triangle in the middle and Rainbow Dash picked one at random.
After making it back to her room, she looked at what it was she had swiped. “Créme de cassis?” She twisted the cap off and immediately her nose was filled with the sugary sweet scent of blackcurrants. Shrugging, she took an experimental sip and winced. It was awful. A sickly cloying liquid that adhered to the inside of her mouth like burnt frosting. But it was 20% ABV and she wasn't going back downstairs to get something else.
By the time she'd necked one-third of the bottle, however, she was beginning to develop a taste for it. She was also going stir-crazy; before her injury, Rainbow Dash would've leapt out the window in order to find some excitement in town, but she very much doubted that was going to be a possibility now. Besides, without her great speed to help her get out of the scrapes she found herself in, anything exciting would likely come to an end with her spending the night in a cell.
“You're still important to us,” Spitfire had said during her visit to the hospital. Both she and Common Clay had tried to be positive, but it was clear that they were missing her presence on the team. “Once you're fit enough, we'd love to have you back working for us as a coach, or scouting for impressive younger talent. You can still contribute. Hell, I'd wager that a Rainbow Dash with a gammy leg is still a better player than most fully-fit ones.”
Rainbow Dash opened the window and looked; from here, the city looked like an alive thing. A monstrous, over lit behemoth picked out in shades of yellow and red; promising fun, adventure and even a hint of danger. Watching her breath crystallise in the chilly air wasn't much fun.
The sudden enormity of it hit Dash with a force not unlike that which had shattered her leg. She'd never be able to do anything fun again. Not just sports, but everything that she had previously taken for granted! No more late-night forays, no more running from the police after spray-tagging some monument or other, no more early morning jogs! It was all gone and she felt her stomach heave as her body, unused to this much liquor and regret in one sitting, tried to decide whether to sob or vomit the anguish out.
Rainbow fell to the floor, shaking and crying. It couldn't be true, right? There was still a chance, even a small one, that the doctors might be able to get her leg in perfect working order. Rainbow Dash didn't give up just because the odds were stacked against her, did she? Under pressure was where she performed best.
She went back to the window and a plan began to form in her mind. Whether it was motivated by the alcohol, her anger at her parents, or her own fears about her recovery, she didn't really know. Maybe all three contributed to spur her onwards. Only I know what I can really do. There was a rope ladder that Rainbow Dash kept stashed under her bed for her midnight forays, but it wasn't going to be any use to her; even without the crutches, trying to get her heavily-bound leg on to the steps would be a hellish nightmare not worth contemplating. That meant … the drainpipe.
Most houses these days had plastic pipes, but this one was metal, and was fairly rigidly affixed to the wall, so it shouldn't have any problem supporting her weight. The real headache was that it was about four feet away from the narrow ledge just outside Rainbow Dash's window, and while that was not an unreasonable jump for her under normal conditions, it was hardly ideal at the moment. She reflected bitterly that, not so very long ago, she'd have been able to clear twice that distance easily.
Carefully, she positioned herself on the ledge, taking care not to look down; it wasn't a high enough fall to be fatal, but if she landed awkwardly, she risked doing further damage to her body. Rainbow Dash didn't even want to contemplate what would happen if she crashed down on her already-broken leg. Then again, it couldn't get much worse, could it? It was a good thing that it wasn't windy, nor had there been much rainfall lately, so the ledge was dry, as was the drainpipe. Piece of cake. Right?
Rainbow Dash leapt, using her weaker left leg to provide the necessary thrust, extending her arms at the last moment and wrapping her hands around the drainpipe; it made a hideous clanking sound as she collided bodily with it, but she'd made it. Now she just had to shimmy down … why was someone shining a torch in her face?
“Good jump,” said Rainbow Blaze, pointing a flashlight at his daughter. Despite his anger at her escape attempt – motivated more by concern that she could hurt herself, rather than outrage that she was sneaking out without permission – he was genuinely impressed with Rainbow Dash's tenacity. It still managed to take him by surprise on occasion just how dogged she could be.
“Have you been there the whole time?” asked Rainbow Dash as she descended the pipe, mortified that she had been caught so easily. She was just glad that the darkness meant her father wouldn't see the blush breaking out across her face.
“This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I said that you should keep yourself in shape,” Blaze said.
“I had to try.”
“I know,” her father said sadly, “but you're gonna have to accept the fact that you're not capable of doing all the things you once did.”
*
Once back in her room, Rainbow Dash spied a small plastic object that had slipped out of her coat pocket when she'd jumped up on the ledge. She picked up her 'phone and noticed that there was a missed call from Fluttershy from earlier in the day. It was almost midnight and she gloomily prevaricated. I really don't want to be alone right now. It was one thing for people who didn't know her to write off her chances – even if they were healthcare professionals – but her own father?
I really don't think I should be alone right now. She dialled the number.
It took a few moments, but a sleepy voice eventually answered, “H-Hello?”
“Sorry to wake you. Are you, um, can you come over?”
“It's the middle of the night. Can't I come over first thing in the morning?”
“Fluttershy, please,” Rainbow Dash said with quiet desperation, her voice cracking more than normal as the emotion welled within her. “I'm afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of what might happen if you aren't here to stop me.”
Before Fluttershy could say anything in response to that, Rainbow ended the call. She felt a pang of regret for what she'd said, but even through her alcohol-fuelled haze, she could still feel the heartbreak clutching her chest in an icy grasp.
Fluttershy arrived ten minutes later, announcing her arrival by throwing a stone at her friend's window, then apologising for having done so. Rainbow Dash lowered the rope ladder and Fluttershy hauled herself up to the room.
Rainbow Dash wasn't a natural hugger, so when she gripped her friend tightly and wouldn't let go, Fluttershy knew that something serious was afoot. “Rainbow Dash, what is it?”
Still not letting go, Dash explained, “I just had a moment where … where I realised everything that I'm never gonna get to do again.” She blinked away a single tear and tried to smile bravely. “It was kind of a punch to the gut.”
Fluttershy saw the bottle sitting next to the TV and caught a whiff of Rainbow Dash's breath. “This isn't the way to cope with it,” she said patiently, wondering if she ought to lecture Dash on the dangers of mixing alcohol with high-strength pain medication.
“I don't think I can. Cope with it, I mean. Ask anyone about Rainbow Dash, and what will they tell you? Oh, she does all that running. Oh, she plays for the Wondercolts. Oh, she's captain of nearly every sports team there is. What am I if none of that applies?”
“You're … Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said, finally extricating herself from Rainbow's fear-charged embrace. Troubled cerise met hopeful azure. “You're still smart, funny and beautiful. No one can take any of that away from you. Nor the fact that there are still thousands of things you can do if you put your mind to it.”
Rainbow Dash laughed hollowly, wondering which alternate universe-version of herself Fluttershy was referring to. Well, maybe two out of three of those things are applicable. Grabbing the bottle from where it was still perched, she took a large swig and then offered it to Fluttershy afterwards.
“No, thank you.”
“I'm not drinking alone,” Rainbow Dash insisted, waggling the bottle in front of her friend.
Fluttershy was prepared to argue, but decided against it; after wiping the rim of the bottle with the sleeve of her t-shirt – Rarity, no doubt, would have something to say about the intense violet stain she was leaving – she took a tiny sip of the drink and gagged, almost spitting it out until her instinctive politeness forced her to swallow. “Ugh, it tastes like flat jam,” she complained.
“I know, right?” said Rainbow Dash, taking the bottle back and trying not to smirk at her friend's comical expression of disgust.
They went back and forth until the drink was finished; despite not having drunk all that much of it, Fluttershy was feeling slightly woozy and she collapsed on the bed, her head spinning. “I don't feel so good,” she grumbled wearily, one hand clutching her forehead and the other pressed against her stomach.
Rainbow Dash was secretly relieved, though concerned for Fluttershy's well-being; she'd wanted her friend to stay over, but hadn't known quite how to ask. She disappeared out of the room for a second and came back with a bucket; after placing it beside the bed, she rolled Fluttershy on to her side and then slid into the bed next to her until their bodies were pressed firmly against each other's. “Don't read anything into this,” Dash said tersely, though Fluttershy was already on the verge of passing out, “this is just to stop you rolling on your back in the middle of the night.”
In spite of the discomfort she felt in her leg when she lay on her side, Rainbow Dash was willing to bear the pain in order to keep Fluttershy safe. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her during the night, especially after the way she'd guilt-tripped her into coming over here in the first place. “I'll make it up to you,” Dash said, making sure that her friend's hair didn't get in the way of her mouth if she had to be sick during the night. “I promise.”
*
Rainbow Dash was awoken by a jolt of pain surging through her leg; tiredness and inebriation joined forces to cloud her judgement, and without thinking she dug her heel as hard as she could into the mattress to alleviate the cramping in her calf muscle. Instead, all she succeeded in doing was intensifying the suffering in her shin bone, and Dash wasn't slow to realise what a monumentally stupid thing it was that she had just done. As did most of the rest of the neighbourhood when a blood-curdling scream escaped her throat.
The ache ebbed somewhat after a few moments, but she went into the bathroom – choosing to feel her way along the hall instead of relying on the crutches – to fetch a glass of water and quickly downed it along with a couple of painkillers. Dash caught sight of herself in the mirror; a haggard, worn-out mien glanced dolorously back at her and she wondered what happened to that bold, self-assured girl she used to see.
She returned to her bedroom and the knowledge that Fluttershy was gone finally impinged itself on her addled mind; a quick look at the alarm clock told her it was seven in the morning, but given the coldness of her side of the bed, she'd been gone more than an hour already. Guess she had an early start, Rainbow Dash thought, hoping that her friend wasn't in too much of a poorly state after the drinking. Once again, she felt remorse eat away at her insides; she'd pushed Fluttershy into coming over, into sharing the alcohol with her. What sort of person did that?
“Is everything all right, Dashie?” Blaze asked, hovering in the doorway. “I, uh, heard you shrieking just now.”
“I'm fine,” replied Dash, a little flustered at how she'd reacted to the twinge, clambering back into bed and pulling the covers around her. “Just a touch of cramp, that's all.” She turned around to face her father and even in the low light she saw that he looked just as bad as she did. “Are you ever planning on sleeping again?”
“Your friend woke me up when she left this morning,” Blaze explained, a smile further creasing his already worn features. “She kept bumping into things in the dark.”
“That sounds like Fluttershy,” said Dash wistfully, picturing the awkward girl trying to navigate the tight confines of the house in her woozy condition. “You didn't … happen to talk to her or anything, did you?”
“Uh-uh.” Blaze shook his head. “What you get up to in the privacy of your bedroom is your own business, not mine.”
It was only later, after her father had gone back to his own room and she had turned around to try and get some more sleep, that Dash realised what he had been implying and her face reddened slightly.
*
Doctor Mi Amore Cadenza took one look at Rainbow Dash, slumped over in the waiting room, a pair of sunglasses hanging halfway down her face, and her expression hovered somewhere between mirth and irritation. “Miss Dash,” she called quietly. The girl stirred slightly, but only to get herself into a more comfortable position on the chair. Cadance walked into the waiting room and approached Dash slowly. She tapped her lightly on the shoulder causing Rainbow Dash to sit bolt upright, her face contorting in fright. “We're ready for you, Miss Dash.”
“All right,” Dash said, getting uneasily to her feet. She pocketed her sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes. She reached for her crutches, but only succeeded in knocking them to the ground with her clumsy grab; the girl cursed angrily and fell back into her seat to start the whole process over, only with a bit more care this time.
“D'you need help?”
“No.” Slowly, painstakingly, Rainbow Dash gathered up the walking aids and used them to support her weight as she rose up from the chair. She wished she could blame her ineptitude on the hangover, but the truth was she was simply too used to doing things the other way around. It was embarrassing, if nothing else, to be so reliant on something simply to walk from A-to-B.
As Cadance led her charge to the gym, she spoke severely to her, “Look, I hate to be the boring, fusty one, and I know this experience hasn't been easy for you, but I really have to warn you about mixing alcohol with your medication.”
“It was two-thirds of a small bottle,” Rainbow Dash assured her nonchalantly, not in the mood for the doctor's haranguing right now after her rough beginning to the day.
“It doesn't matter how much it was,” Cadance reprimanded her sharply. “Taken in conjunction with the kind of painkillers you're on, you run the risk of internal bleeding, liver failure, even death. Hell, the best case scenario is that you wind up addicted to the combination and treating that is an even more gruelling process than fixing your leg.”
As they entered the gym, Rainbow Dash said, “So. I can't drink at all is what you're telling me?”
“You shouldn't be drinking, anyway,” Cadance said, internally wincing at how naïve she sounded.
A pair of cerise eyes just stared at her.
“All right,” Cadance said, leading Rainbow Dash to a set of scales. “First things first.”
After placing her crutches beside the machine, Dash allowed the doctor to help her this time; she used Cadance as leverage to get up on the slightly-raised platform, then once she was sure she wasn't going to fall over, she placed her arms by her side. “Thanks,” Dash murmured.
“You're welcome,” Cadance replied brightly as she turned the machine on. After a few seconds of beeping and adjustment, the scales had something to report. “You've put on a couple of kilograms.”
Rainbow Dash blushed, looking down at her belly. If she had put on weight, it was barely noticeable. “Well, I'm not as active as I used to be.”
“Oh, don't worry about it. You were a bit on the skinny side to begin with, but we will have to monitor your diet more closely now. Any extra, um, baggage is more stress you'll be putting on your injured leg and we're trying to minimise that as much as we can,” Cadance explained. “You ready to begin?”
“Always,” Dash said with a trace of her old confidence returning.
Pre-injury, Rainbow Dash would've found the physical therapy class to be a cakewalk; it mostly consisted of some simple mobility exercises aimed at getting her torn muscles working again while they healed, usually involving a gentle stroll on a treadmill followed by some light leg curls. Cadance had informed her during their first session a couple of weeks ago that, as they progressed, she should put more heft on her broken leg so that they could gauge how it was recovering.
It was still early days, though, and Rainbow found it discouraging that she still couldn't put all that much pressure on it yet. “Damn it!” she growled as she stumbled, having placed the tiniest fraction more weight on it than it could comfortably bear. She got unsteadily back to her feet, gripping the rails of the treadmill.
“Don't worry,” Cadance said soothingly, not wanting the girl to succumb to despair. The mind had a powerful impact on the body, and Rainbow Dash could hurt her recovery if she allowed herself to spiral into negativity. “To use an old cliché: it's a marathon, not a sprint.” Seeing the girl's face fall, Cadance realised she'd said the wrong thing.
“Another two things I'll never get to do again,” Rainbow Dash said bitterly as she began her slow pace.
“You know, just a decade or two ago, it would've been necessary to amputate after the severity of the injury you suffered,” the doctor pointed out calmly. “You should consider yourself lucky, all things considered.”
“Pardon me if I don't,” the girl snapped back. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. This wasn't Cadance's fault, and there was no point losing her temper at the doctor. She was right: this wasn't something that was going to sort itself out overnight. “I'm sorry,” Dash said lamely.
“It's fine,” said Cadance, well-used to patients' outbursts. It was just one of the many perks that came with the job. “I think that's enough for now, if you want to stop. Over the next few days, you can start working out more at home in addition to your sessions here at the hospital.” Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as she issued a warning: “Just remember not to push yourself too hard. You're making very good progress, but doing too much too soon could cause further problems.”
“I won't,” promised Rainbow Dash, silently grateful for the fact that she'd finally be able to get out and about again. “And thanks, again, for everything.”
“You're welcome.”
*
As Rainbow Dash exited the gymnasium and bid goodbye to Doctor Cadance, she happened to catch sight of a familiar, orange-skinned figure sitting in the waiting room; while the young girl was eminently recognisable to her, the churlish look on her face was not. “Scootaloo?” she said quizzically, hoping that there was nothing seriously wrong with her. “Is everything all right?”
The younger girl tugged stiffly on her light pink hair, and her expression darkened somewhat when she noticed Rainbow Dash. “Oh, yeah. I'm good,” Scootaloo replied quietly, trying to contain her awe. After following her legendary exploits last season, the older girl was something of a hero and role model to her, and she desperately didn't want to come across as uncool or, worse, as a crybaby in her presence. “How about you?” she asked, gesturing to Dash's heavily-swathed leg. “I heard it was pretty bad.”
Taking a seat across from the younger girl, Rainbow Dash said, “I'm fine. Well, I'm getting back to being fine, anyway.” She pondered for a moment, remembering how she'd blackmailed Fluttershy into coming over the night before when she'd been depressed. “Hey, look,” Dash began, leaning forward slightly, “you obviously don't need to tell me anything, but uh, it doesn't hurt to talk to someone if you're feeling down.”
“Really, I'm okay,” Scootaloo said with a touch of forced bravado that Rainbow Dash couldn't help but admire. The contrived assurance didn't last very long, though. “It's just … I wish I didn't have to keep doing this.”
“This being?” Dash asked lightly, hoping that she wasn't prying into something deeply personal for the younger girl.
“I was born with a spinal problem,” Scootaloo explained, memories of a childhood spent in hospital flooding unbidden to her despite her best efforts at repressing them. “I've had several surgeries to correct it, but uh, I have to do all these exercises to keep my back muscles strong or it'll start to lose its shape again.”
Rainbow Dash was startled by this new knowledge; Scootaloo had always been one of the most active kids she'd ever met, and it was difficult to accept that she had managed to lead such a vigorous lifestyle with her back problems. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“It's no biggie,” said Scootaloo with a wave of her hand. “Most people wouldn't even suspect it, considering that me, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are always up to something. I can keep up with the best of them for the most part, but there are times when I either run out of breath really quickly, or I get chest pains and have to stop doing anything for a while.”
Looking around quickly, a thought occurred to Rainbow Dash. “Didn't anyone come with you?”
“Nah,” said the younger girl with a shrug of her shoulders. “My parents did the first few times, but they're pretty busy at work, and it's not like our house is that far away from here. And I didn't want to drag my friends all the way down just to watch me lying on my butt for an hour.” Scootaloo frowned. “Same deal for you?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Rainbow Dash didn't want to think about her parents at the moment; the impossible choice they had given her, had forced upon her, was every bit as tortuous as the broken leg. They didn't seem to understand that it wasn't just about the house, as fond of it as she was; her life, her friends, were here in Canterlot. Cloudsdale and Ponyville were nice, sure, and yes, it was only a couple of hours back here by train, but … it wouldn't be the same.
A cheery-faced doctor poked his head into the waiting room. “Miss Scootaloo, we're ready for you now if you'd like to come with me.”
“See you around, Rainbow Dash,” Scootaloo said with a cheery smile as she passed by the older girl in order to catch-up with the fleeing doctor.
“You, too, Scootaloo.”