"Wait... just... please... don't..." Sunset seethed through her teeth, rising up as she slowly regained her breaths. "Flash... stay... right... where... you are... please..."
"Hey... look at you..." Flash nodded towards the vehicle half-parked on the grass lane behind her. Its lights were still on and the air freshner hanging from the rear view mirror hadn't yet stopped swaying. "Since when did you start driving?"
"I'msogladIfoundyou...!" Sunset stood up straight at last, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Holy Tartarus, you had me so friggin' worried—"
"An Audi, huh?" Flash arched an eyebrow. "Strange. Somehow, you always struck me as the motorcycle type—"
"Will you shut up about the damn car?!" Sunset shrieked, eyes flaring, and Flash was ashamed to feel that it came out as halfway adorable. Within a few seconds, she took a deep breath and exhaled with yoga-like motions of her arms—which he also found adorable. "Just... for once in your young life—please, Flash—will you not make a joke or quip or—"
"I take it you got the letter."
"... ... ..." Sunset's fists clenched as she nodded breathily. "Yes, Flash. I read that letter you wrote. From top to bottom." A firm gulp. "Fluttershy found it first. And she shared it with Rainbow Dash. And then she zipped across four whole city blocks in a blink to share it with me. And for the past frickin' hour the seven of us have been looking all across the dang city trying to find your crazy ass and—"
"How'd you know I'd be here?"
Sunset blinked. She stretched a hand out—motioning down the winding road. "McCraken Trail." Another swallow. "Where the heck else would you be at such a crazy 'soul-searching' moment of your life?"
"Ah..." Flash nodded. He hadn't moved from his spot on the log, and his hands were calmly resting on his knees. "...so you were listening to me when I rambled like a sappy goof after those long car rides."
"Well of course I listened, Flash!" Sunset exclaimed.
"I just figured you were too busy—"
"What? Being a crazy rotten powermongering bitch?" Sunset planted her hands on her hips. "Is that what you were going to say? Cuz it's true! I'd be the first to admit it!"
"... ... ..." He shrugged before saying calmly: "I was going to say you had 'different priorities' at the time, Sunset. But we're both past that. We're different people now."
"What—" Sunset started. "Flash—" She started again. Her forehead creased, and she rubbed her temples with what must have been the mother of all migraines as she slowly approached the log. "Tell me... please... what is it that you're trying to accomplish here, exactly?"
"You read the letter, right?" Flash shrugged once more. "I can't stay anymore. I've chosen to go out and find a better life for myself where I can—"
"No, what you're doing is pulling another Celestia-damned stunt!" She said, bearing an iron-wrought frown. "Just look at yourself, Flash!" She gestured at his three bulging backpacks. "What is this?! Rehearsal for the Hobo Olympics?"
"I don't need any of the crud I left at home," Flash muttered. "Or home, for that matter."
"What you need is a swift kick in the ass!" Sunset frowned, her fists forming fists again. "I mean—what's wrong with you?! If it isn't one psychotic extreme, then it's the other!"
"Sunny—"
"Don't 'Sunny' me!" She hissed, but there was a touch of vulnerability in her eyes, glossed over with fear. "What's the matter with relying on your friends, huh?! What part of 'we're all here for you, Flash' don't you friggin' understand?!" She gestured wildly. "Do you know how many times we tried to text you during your first day back?! Or did you just dump your cell phone on the school grounds again?"
"No, don't be ridiculous."
"Well, alright, then."
"... ... ...I tossed it into a garbage bin two blocks away in downtown."
"Unnnghhhh..." Sunset facepalmed. Hard.
Flash scratched the back of his neck. "Along with the hall pass Mr. Turner gave me for my psychology class, but... somehow I don't think that matters anymore. The hall pass, I mean." He smiled crookedly. "Still, Psychology 101 can go take a swan dive off the edge of my—"
"Flash, just... stop it!" Sunset shrieked, her voice echoing off the nearby pine trees. Her eyes clenched tight with the force of her outburst. "Just. Stop. All of this!"
He gazed at her silently.
She shook. She shivered. Then—when her eyes finally reopened—they were full of tears. "This is all my f-fault." A hiccup. More tears. "All of it. It's all my fault. I kn-know it. But does th-that mean you gotta keep punishing me like this?"
"Punishing you?" At last, Flash Sentry stood up and approached her. "Sunset, this is not your fau—"
She flinched away from him. "It is too!" She hugged herself, fighting hyperventilation as the tears flowed, doubling. "How many months went by with me manipulating you and b-berating you and treating you like you were manure?! And for wh-what?! For me to leave you out in the c-cold?!"
"But you're a changed person now, Sunny—"
"How can I pretend to be any better than I was when I let you... let you..." She fought it, whimpered, then let loose: "...become so unraveled?" She avoided his gaze momentarily, if only to wipe her cheeks dry—a futile maneuver. "I thought I was doing the r-right thing... by giving you space... j-just as I once t-told you to give Princess Twilight space." Next came a frown, this time aimed at herself. "But I was wrong. I realize that now, Flash!" She looked at him, her lips quivering. "You're my friend. I sh-should have b-been there for you all this time. Instead... I-I hung you out to dry because I was selfish and I was lazy and I h-hid behind the pretense that you were stronger than you actually were!"
"Sunset," Flash spoke gently, calmly. While Sunset was a sobbing mess, he was steady amidst the storm. "I no longer blame you for what went down between us. If nothing else, our relationship together set me down a path that I desperately needed." He braved a daring smile between them. "Now I'm all the stronger for it—"
"You call this 'strong?!'" she yelped, and just like that the tears held sway yet again. "This isn't strength! Flash, you're running away! That's what you've been doing this whole time! Running away via one extreme or another! First it was to Equestria, but now... now..." She seethed. "Do you even know where the Hell you're even going anymore?!?"
He shrugged and smiled. "I guess I'll find out—"
"Bullshit!" She leaned into him, fiery, a second sun. "Flash, this is your life we're talking about! Don't throw it away on some... pretentious gamble for a moral crusade!"
"But I'm not throwing it away."
"Yes you are!"
"I'm not—"
"Yes you are! You just don't know it yet! Please, Flash..." Sunset moved forward, both hands extended in a desperate, almost-pleading gesture. "Trust me on this. Don't do it. Don't go... blindly flailing into some crazy unknown life. Don't punish yourself. Don't punish me. Or your friends! Think about what this means for you... your life... in the long term!"
He hadn't moved a single inch. He was like a statue, in most respects.
Perhaps this was what shocked Sunset out of her resolve. She shrank away from him slightly, as if staring at a stranger.
"I had a vision today," Flash murmured, cool as fog off a glacier. "I was swimming in a tide full of drowning, blind people. The water was shallow, and any of us could have walked to shore at any time. I suddenly understood this, and I understood that I didn't understand it for so long. And when I looked around, I saw the source of my misunderstanding. It was the levees built out of excuses—by those ahead of us and ourselves included—that keep us drowning. Slowly. Over time. And just because the flood guards were designed to make the drowning seem slow and painless over a long period, it still drowned us all the same. With no reward, no benefits, no gain." He shrugged. "You see, Sunset... in more ways than one, what's right in front of us can very easily—very comfortably—becomes the 'long term' way faster than we'd like to think. I'm no longer satisfied with that. I'm prepared to walk ashore."
"Flash..." Sunset shook her head rapidly. "Flash Flash Flash..." She clenched her teeth. "Take one small step outside of your own ass for once, mkay?" Her brow furrowed. "What do you even think you're going to do? Huh? Solve all the problems in the world by being homeless? I mean... what's so damn sinful about having a support group of friends and... and-and-and... a foundation or a home to work with?! I mean—is it your folks?! Just say the word and we'll find you a better place to live!"
"Sunny—"
"There are people who are able and willing to help you with these kinds of issues, Flash!" Sunset insisted, her angry voice teetering on a sob once again. "The world isn't as horrible as you think it is! And even if it was, we can still find you a better place to start living!"
He looked her squarely in the eye. "It's not about moving to someplace better, Sunset, but doing what I can to make it better." He slowly shook his head. "Besides, I've been to a better place. And it's opened my eyes to what I can do... to what I've denied myself from doing for so long." A warm smile crossed his lips. "You should be proud, Sunset. Equestria—your Equestria—harbors faith to move mountains—"
"No..." Sunset shook her head vigorously again. "No no no will you just shut it?!?" The frown came back. "Okay, Flash! Let's say we let you have your glorious crusade! What's the outcome, huh?! The end game?!?" She pointed angrily down McCracken Trail as the last vestiges of light twinkled over the western mountaintops. "You know what happens to people who run out full-ham into the world on some extreme quest to fix things?! They disappear, Flash! They disappear and they change nothing! This whole crazy 'rotten' world?! Nothing changes with extreme stunts like that! Like this!" She slapped one hand against the other. "It. Takes. Order—Flash! Order and harmony! And friends! Everything I've ever learned—every lesson I've ever suffered through—proves this to be true! Social networks and groups are what make life flow down the proper channels! Surely somewhere in that martyr-fetish heart of yours you have the capacity to understand that!"
Flash was already nodding. "All too well. Which is why I can no longer afford to wait or pretend."
"Pretending—nngh—h-has nothing to do with it, Flash!" Sunset practically bellowed. "No single person can change the whole world!"
Flash stared back at her. "But every single person should."
Silence. Even the cicadas had retreated from the scene.
Sunset exhaled. She was past anger and hysterics at that point, and the moment had roped her back to regret. She wiped at her tears again, shaking her head into the darkening hush of the world. "I... I shudder to say it... but I wish I could just... pinpoint the moment where I went wrong with you, Flash." She sniffled, trembling under the weight of the thought. "I... I wish I could just understand what has caused your heart and mind to be... to be twisted and polluted this way... so that I can more properly help you... help you c-come back... come back to me... come back to us."
"... ... ..." Flash glanced at a shiny pendant around her neck, orange and reflective. It danced with the residual touches of the sunset. "Doesn't that thing let you read the thoughts and memories of others?"
Sunset blinked, waking out of her pitiable stupor. She looked at the pendant, then at Flash, then at the pendant once more. "Uhm... yes. As a matter of fact, it does."
"Then use it, Sunny," Flash suggested in a soft tone. "Use it on me." He held a hand over his chest. "Feel what I feel. Go through what I've gone through. Then... after that... tell me if you still think that what I'm doing is crazy or not."
She looked at him, contemplatively, for a long time. Then, chewing on her lower lip, she inched slightly forward. One hand clasped around her geode while the other hand reached for the exposed flesh of his neck.
Flash stood still. Patient. Waiting.
There was a flicker of light; the geode responded to another soul within Sunset's reached. She leaned forward... forward still...
...but she stopped before her fingers could come within a centimeter of Flash's skin.
For once, he blinked at her. Actually surprised.
Soon enough, the moment had passed. Sunset sealed it with a sigh. When she leaned back, she was frowning... not in defeat but in determination.
"No, Flash," she said. And her hands clenched by her side. "I won't. I can't."
He slowly nodded. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," she spat. "It's because I refuse to welcome whatever mentality that's strangling you inside of me. I can't allow it to persuade me." Her lips quivered, and she sobbed through the struggle it took to say: "As a friend, I owe it to us both to stand here firmly in place and tell you that what you're doing is wrong." She slowly shook her head. "And you don't have to believe me. Not now. Not ever. But the truth is this isn't going to end in any possible way that's good, Flash. Not for you... not for the world. Please... I'm begging you... come home." She pleaded. "Come home, Flash," she cried. "In all things I've done in this life—good and bad—I've yet to lose a friend. And... and I-I don't want the first one to be you."
"Will you make me come back, either way, Sunset?" Flash asked with such swiftness that it stole the breath out of her. "Will you force me to stay in one place, kicking and screaming, for as long as we'll ever know each other, spitefully and bitterly? Fully aware that I will forever be unhappy and unfulfilled in my role in this life? And the mark I have to leave upon this world?"
She blinked at him. Her lips hung open, but she had nothing to respond with.
He stepped closer to her, and this time his eyes were moist. If only slightly. "The first friend you make in this world is yourself, and I need to make sure I'm right with him. Just like you had to make sure you were right with yourself. But where it worked for you, it can't work for me. We're just different people, Sunset. I can't find who I am—and how I can help the world—in this place... in this prison." He shook his head. "Nor can I do it in the home where you're from... which is a fantasy. But out there...?" He gestured down the trail. "There's reality waiting for me. And I have to go find it. No matter how difficult it may be. I have to go help it... heal it... just like I've been. By you and by others." He finished this with a smile.
It could just as well have been a dagger. Sunset hugged herself, trembling. When she saw him make a move towards his bags, she jerked forward—if only slightly—but her hand grasped nothing but naked air. She clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering in the pallid terror of the moment.
None of which was lost to Flash. By the time he picked up his things, he moved back over towards her. His voice was a lasting warmth against the suffocating tide.
"I was born to do things. I only had to realize it. And now that I do, I know that I can't go back." He grinned, a lasting smolder, something else that was new. "And I'm starting to understand why you can't go back either, Sunset."
She looked up at him, a pillar of trembles. All that persisted now was a repeating, ardent: "Please, Flash. Please..."
"Shhhhhh..." A hand reached out between them, brushing her cheek, gathering a finger-full of tears. When there was enough to catch the last glimmering touch of the day, he held them affectionately between them, like a memento. "They're a good thing, aren't they?"
Sunset Shimmer was silent. Flash couldn't tell whether or not it was a sign of agreement, for he no longer had an anchor to stay there and listen.
Without another word, Flash Sentry departed, shuffling quietly down the lengths of McCracken Trail. Sunset Shimmer watched as he drifted further and further away, vanishing gradually amidst the shadows of mountains and forests, and when night finally fell and washed over the quiet basin with its dark grays and melancholic blues, it was almost as if he was everywhere.