//------------------------------// // Chapter 8: Kill the Pain // Story: To Serve In Hell // by CoffeeMinion //------------------------------// A loud bang heralded Rainbow Dash’s entrance through the wooden door to the infirmary. That, coupled with the howling filly on her back, drew the eyes of everypony in the long lines of beds on either side of the great chamber, as well as those of the orderlies and hoof-full of nurses. “You’ve gotta help me!” Dash shouted, heading for the nearest empty bed and depositing Scootaloo on it. The shrieking filly bucked and writhed, her eyes rolling back with panic. A white earth pony mare in a medical hat—Doctor Redheart—galloped over to them and helped Dash keep Scootaloo from inadvertently throwing herself off the bed. “What happened?” Dash cringed and continued struggling to hold Scootaloo steady. “I don’t know exactly. I mean, I don’t have all the details, it’s kinda complicated—” Redheart growled at her. “Come on, Dash, give me something here. Is this trauma, or drug-induced, or…?” “She came out of Tartarus.” Redheart’s eyes widened. “Tartarus?!” Dash flinched. “She seemed okay, at first. I had to leave her for a little bit because of orders. I guess she started freaking out while I was gone.” Redheart glared at Dash. “Brilliant. Give a cursory visual inspection to a pony straight out of a dimension of fire and torture, then leave her alone while you go do whatever?” She shifted her weight, struggling to keep Scootaloo down on the bed. “No, I get how it sounds, but I was under orders. Rarity needed me to—” “Rarity wouldn’t be this stupid,” Redheart snapped. The outburst made Dash draw back for a moment. She wanted to argue that Rarity had been more than a little distracted by the crazy pony with the knife, not to mention what had happened with Zecora. But in that moment her grip weakened, giving Scootaloo a chance to thrash out of her grasp entirely. “Doctor, should we prep a sedative?” one of the orderlies called. “I need to know what I’m up against here, first,” Redheart shouted over Scootaloo’s howling. She looked back down at Scootaloo and grunted, clearly trying to help Dash get her back under control. “Somepony get over here and help us! There’s no way I can examine her like this!” A muscular green-coated stallion rushed over and took Redheart’s place helping Dash hold Scootaloo. Between the two of them, they managed to keep her steady. Redheart took a breath, then hurriedly set about examining her. “Forelegs look good. Hind legs, too. Nothing wrong with her head. Barrel is… huh, poor thing’s got such tiny wings.” She paused, then looked at Dash. “This is Scootaloo!” “Yeah.” “I can’t believe this.” Redheart sat back on her haunches for a moment. “Then the Nightmare really did exile somepony else again. And that thing guarding the entrance sent her back. Do I want to know who got ‘traded’ for Scootaloo here?” Dash lowered her head. “It was Zecora.” Redheart slumped. Her eyes went wider, but became less focused. Dash couldn’t name the look on her face, but it was as if Redheart was no longer tracking with the situation around her. “Hey,” Dash said, rising up and poking her with a hind hoof. “Earth to Redheart. What about Scoots?” “I… yes—” Redheart shook herself, then spent a few more moments examining Scootaloo. Eventually she sighed. “I don’t know, Dash. She looks fine on the outside. Even her coat looks decent, all things considered. That’s the best I can do without a trained unicorn on staff to perform deep internal scans. Thank your boss for that one.” Dash pressed a hoof to Redheart’s chest. “She’s your boss too, y’know.” “I do,” Redheart said, brushing the offending hoof away. “And now she’s not just organizing some kind of pointless expeditionary force; she’s actually throwing creatures into Tartarus again! If she’s on that big of a power trip, she’ll definitely want me and my staff to tag along. We’d better do everything we can to get the rest of these guys stable enough to let us leave ’em unattended for a while…” Dash bit her lip. “Please, Doc; you gotta do something for Scoots.” Redheart sighed. “Well, since she just came out of Tartarus, I guess a mild sedative can’t make things much worse.” Redheart walked over to a nearby cabinet, took out a syringe and a vial, filled the syringe partway full of colorless liquid, then walked back and stuck it into Scootaloo’s hip. As she depressed the plunger, the filly shuddered, then finally went limp. Dash breathed a heavy sigh, then nodded at Redheart. “Thank you. I… I don’t know what to do here,” she said quietly. “I can’t take care of a filly on my own. I don’t know the first thing about kids.” Redheart shrugged. “Then think of something. It can’t be worse than leaving her to manage on her own. Harmony knows enough kids have had to, with the way things are out there.” “No.” Dash furrowed her brow, looking down as she wracked her brains for a solution. “Her folks made it out of Ponyville, didn’t they?” “You mean her aunts? I dunno. They weren’t with me and Rarity’s group. But even if they got out on their own, they’d be long gone by now.” “Maybe they could’ve left clues about where they were going?” “Look, Sergeant, Scootaloo’s gonna have a long, dreamless nap there. But when she wakes up, she’s gonna need someone to take care of her. Well, that and psychiatric help that goes far beyond my training. I’ve got some books, though, if you feel like doing some reading.” Dash gritted her teeth. “So that’s it? You’re just saying she’s my problem, and moving on? Why can’t you do something?!” “You think I’m happy leaving anyone from Ponyville high and dry? Look, on a good day, I could at least keep her under observation. But I literally don’t have time here, because the Nightmare’s off chasing something shiny, and ponies are already getting hurt and dying because of it!” “I…” Dash looked down at the artificially peaceful slumber of the filly in front of her. Scootaloo lay motionless, save for the ragged rise and fall of her breath, and the occasional twitch of a leg. A dark thought entered her mind. “Y’know, I get that you don’t like the Mistress, but you’re stepping pretty far over the line with your attitude. Maybe I should have some guards stop by and ‘talk’ to you about it?” Redheart’s expression hardened, and she gestured toward the line of beds. “How about them? They’re already here. I mean, that’s half of the patrol that you and the Nightmare took out with that ‘Alicorn and dragon,’ or whatever. Look what she did to them.” Dash couldn’t bring her eyes to linger on the bloodied forms. “It’s hardly treasonous to be sick of seeing ponies die of infection, or blood loss, or other stupid things I could’ve easily dealt with back at Ponyville General,” Redheart continued. “Adding the Nightmare’s hissy-fits to that list is the last thing I need. She may call you thestrals her ‘True Children,” but do you think she’ll actually care enough to let us stay here and try to keep them alive?” “I did this,” Dash whispered, her eyes downturned. “I… I put the blame on them for what went down out there, and I…” She lowered her head in shame. “I bailed out before this happened.” Redheart scoffed. “You haven’t changed a bit since Ponyville. You shirk responsibility and suffering onto others, then you complain about how bad you have it when something goes wrong. Why don’t you try being on the other end of things for a while, and see how it feels?” Dash looked around the room at the other doctors and orderlies shuffling from pony to pony, and frowned. “If you hate the Mistress so much, why do you keep doing this for her?” “Because…” Redheart grimaced. “The castle staff and guards are all that’s left of Ponyville. And even though I only have the technical training of a nurse, I’m still the closest thing they’ve got to a real doctor.” Her eyes narrowed as she turned a glare at Dash. “Those bat wings might’ve helped you forget who you were loyal to, but I never did.” “What?!” Redheart set her jaw. “You heard me. I might not be lining up to kiss the Nightmare’s flank, but at least I’ve never sold out any of my ponies.” Dash’s face tightened with barely contained rage. She reached down, scooped up Scootaloo, and laid her across her back again. “You know what? Fine! You may not care about anypony but yourself, but I’m gonna do what I can to help her!” “Sergeant, all I do is provide care for others.” Redheart shook her head. “If you’re too blind to see that, then I don't know if you can be helped.” Dash stood there fuming wordlessly for a second, but then turned away and stomped out the door. “I’m not just gonna let Scoots lie here with no one to take care of her. I’m gonna do something. And I don’t care about my—” She paused, looked at one of her wings, and gave it a brief stretch. The fine bones running through it felt so different than her old pegasus wings had. Gone were her warm feathers, as well as the comforting sensation when wind billowed through them; instead, her leathery wings were often cold, and flying only made them feel moreso. “Stupid Redheart,” Dash muttered.