//------------------------------// // Chapter 17: Night Terrors // Story: To Serve In Hell // by CoffeeMinion //------------------------------// “I should only need a minute,” Redheart said, pushing open the creaky door to her room in the servants’ wing of the castle. “I kept all of Zecora’s stuff together in the bag that Rarity gave me, so I’ve just gotta remember where I hid it.” Rainbow Dash craned her neck, trying to see around Redheart and into the room. She squinted, letting her natural—or unnatural—thestral senses kick in. All vestiges of color dropped away as monochrome outlines of furniture and clutter jumped into sharp relief. And upon seeing the piled-up books, overturned trash can, and a cheap cot that looked like it’d barely been slept in, Dash marveled at the thought that Redheart was almost as much of a slob as she herself was. Redheart turned back and met her eyes with a frown. “Before you ask: yes, I live this way, no I didn’t ask you to come in, and no I’m not gonna light a lamp to show it off, so if you’ve got something to say—” “I was just gonna say it must be nice to have your own place.” Dash gave her a small grin. “All us guards have to make do in the barracks. Can’t get a moment to yourself unless you book one of the doin’-it rooms.” For a long moment, Redheart kept her gaze fixed on Dash, letting disgust mix in with her frown. Then she shook her head and got back to picking through the detritus. “C’mon, I’m just trying to make conversation.” “Well, I’d appreciate if—ah, here it is.” Redheart hefted a thick, fibrous-looking satchel out from the midst of a pile of old medical uniforms. “All right then; let’s get this done so I can go take a look at a couple of ponies back up in the infirmary.” Dash furrowed her brow. “I thought you wanted to get back to the force as fast as possible.” “Yeah, well… I’m here, aren’t I? I have to at least check in up there, and see if we might have a chance not to lose anypony. But first, let’s get the little patient taken care of.” The two mares walked side-by-side through the castle. Occasionally, Dash would stop Redheart and pull her into the shadows to avoid being spotted by various staff members going about their duties. It wasn’t the same as actual stealth, but Dash felt it might be good enough to keep too many ponies from having a reason to ask the wrong kind of questions. In time, and after moving several floors up into the castle’s better quarters, they reached the door to Rarity’s chamber. Dash grumbled as she fumbled with the keys again, and grumbled even louder as Redheart gave her a significant look from behind. But eventually Dash unlocked the door, and she was greeted by ample warmth and dim light. “Can you stoke the fire?” Redheart asked on her way toward Rarity’s bedchamber. Dash obliged after closing and re-locking the door, then joined Redheart by Scootaloo’s bedside. The sight of Scootaloo lying there, breathing softly, but looking peaceful, was enough to make Dash sigh loudly with relief. “Thank Cel—” Dash bit her tongue, and panicked as she looked at Redheart, whose eyebrows suddenly climbed. “It’s death to speak that name,” Redheart said with a quiet intensity. “I…” Dash swallowed. “It just slipped out. Because of the kid.” “She does look pretty good, doesn’t she,” Redheart said, giving Dash a sidelong glance. “Why don’t you clear that bedstand and start setting these things out while I examine her? Carefully, though; I only know what half or less of this stuff even is.” Dash nodded and took the bag from Redheart. Rarity’s bedstand was relatively free of clutter anyway, and it took only a few moments to transfer the candelabra and hoofful of knick-knacks to her vanity. Then Dash began hoofing out small glittering vials, a mortar and pestle, and other sundries from the bag. A book also lay toward the bottom, though it was faded, stained, and careworn. Dash opened it after setting the bag down on the floor, and glanced at the spidery writing within. “Is this a journal?” Dash asked. “Ah… yeah,” Redheart said, looking up from Scootaloo with a frown. “Zecora was a really interesting zebra.” She paused, eyeing up Dash for a moment. “Very private, though. Probably wouldn’t want some random pony leafing through her inmost thoughts.” Dash furrowed her brow and thought back on Zecora from the brief time they’d huddled in the Everfree after the Nightmare came. “I guess you’re right. I always got the sense that she didn’t like me very much, anyway.” Redheart’s stance tensed for a moment. It was subtle, but Dash felt sure she wasn’t imagining it. Yet Redheart turned back to examining Scootaloo’s pupils without saying anything. Curiosity soon overcame Dash as she glanced at the bottom edge of the book and spotted a ragged cloth bookmark sticking out. After a glance at Redheart to make sure she was otherwise occupied, Dash turned the journal open to that page, and read. Her brow knit even tighter as she absorbed the words. “This world is an anomaly,” Dash read quietly. “The Rainbow that will never be…” “Hey!” Redheart shouted. Dash looked up, seeing Redheart giving her a look of exasperation while being in the midst of giving a closer examination to Scootaloo’s forelegs and barrel. “Didn’t I tell you to leave her journal alone?” “Well… yeah… but how am I supposed to know what any of Zecora’s stuff is for unless I read the manual?” Redheart scoffed. “Why don’t you leave that to me? I thought you just wanted to know how the kid’s doing.” “I… I do. How is she?” “Not bad. Really, when you think about whatever she might’ve been through down there, she looks fantastic.” “But what about the seizure?” Dash chewed her lip and set the book down. “Does it mean she’s… hurt?” Redheart shrugged. “I don’t know. I never treated her for seizures back in Ponyville. It’s never good seeing something like that develop. But like I said, the thing with seizures is that the first one’s gonna come out of nowhere. She might never have another again, or if it might be a recurring thing. It’s really hard to say unless it starts happening again.” “That’s not very comforting.” “Yeah, well, neither is life right now, y’know? But look, the whole reason for getting Zecora’s stuff is because I know she’s got dried ingredients and a recipe for an anti-seizure treatment that you can give her if she has a bad one.” Dash’s muzzle crinkled. “What kind of treatment?” “The kind that absorbs fast but isn’t glamorous. Now you can sit here worrying about it, or you can keep an eye on Scootaloo while I get to work.” “Sure.” Dash turned her eyes toward the bed, still feeling powerless as she watched the little filly’s chest rise and fall. “I’m sorry, kid,” Dash whispered. “What…” Scootaloo said faintly, shifting in the bed. Dash’s eyes went wide, and she turned excitedly back to Redheart. “Hey! Hey, did you hear that? She said something!” “R… Rainbow?” Next to her, Redheart moved back to Dash’s side, leaning over Scootaloo and checking her pulse. Tears sprang to Dash’s eyes as she leaned closer as well. “Yeah, Scoots?” Scootaloo shivered. “What… time is it?” Dash swallowed; her mouth suddenly felt very dry indeed. “It’s… it doesn’t matter. How do you feel?” “I… I don’t know.” Scootaloo began to shake. Dash’s heart dropped at the thought that Scootaloo might be having another seizure, but then Scootaloo pulled the blankets tighter around her, and the shaking stopped. “S… so cold…” “Okay, well, l’ve got the fire going, and… you oughtta be warm in those blankets. I can probably find more if I need to…” Scootaloo shifted. “It’s okay, but feels like… I’ve been dreaming. Bad dreams…” Redheart met Dash’s eyes. Dash swallowed, hard. “Uh, yeah. S… sorry kid… uh…” She could scarcely say the words, but she wetted her dry lips and forced them to utter: “Don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright. Why don’t you just get some sleep for now, okay?” “Okay,” Scootaloo said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Aunt Holiday… always said troubles look better… in the morning.” Her breathing slowed again, becoming deep and steady. And it was Dash’s turn to shiver. She sniffled and turned away from Redheart as she swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Hey,” Redheart said, setting a hoof on her shoulder. Dash shrugged the hoof off. “Don’t you have something you’re working on?” “Yeah, I do: helping my ponies.” The words made Dash glance back. The corners of Redheart’s lips were upturned, despite the semi-permanent glower that otherwise dominated her expression. “I’m glad I came back with you.” “Then you’re even dumber than I am,” Dash said, still trying to keep her voice from catching with tears. “How am I supposed to tell Scoots that the morning’s never gonna come again? And what’s she supposed to do with her life when I do?! I don’t have a plan here!” She raised her forehooves futilely. “Why would the Guardian send her back now?” Behind her, Redheart chuckled. “Same reason why I’m glad I came back: this is where ponies need healing, here and now.” Dash turned on her, heedless of how obvious the streaks down her muzzle must look. “You get sentimental? Seriously?” “Only about Ponyville.” Redheart looked back at her work and sighed. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you get some rest too while I work on this. It’s gonna be a while.” “All right,” Dash said. “Not too long, though. Just ’til you’re done.” “Sure,” Redheart answered, turning away. “Just ’til I’m done helping my ponies.” The fire had burned low, and the dark room had grown cold and quiet, when a small, frightened voice jarred Rainbow Dash awake from her resting place along the foot of the bed: “Isn’t it morning yet?” Dash sat up slowly. Her sleep-blurred eyes could make out the outline of Scootaloo sitting up as well, huddling and clutching the blankets around her. Dash furrowed her brow as she glanced around, not seeing Redheart anywhere. “Who’s there?” Scootaloo asked, sounding frantic. “Don’t worry kid, it’s just… your friendly neighborhood Rainbow Dash.” She added a smirk, which reflected confidence that she didn’t feel, and that Scootaloo likely couldn’t see. “R… Rainbow?” Scootaloo relaxed her death-grip on the sheets. “Is it really you?” “Sure is, kid.” Dash saw the faint glint of firelight reflect in Scootaloo’s eyes, which were fixed on hers. “How are you feeling?” “Cold. And like… my skin is two sizes too big.” The filly turned her ears down. “And I’m here. It feels… weird, touching the sheets, and… and feeling them.” “Uh… yeah, you’ve been gone—” She closed her eyes, cursing herself for blundering into that subject so soon. “I’m really glad you’re back.” Scootaloo shivered. “Where’s ‘here,’ Rainbow? And why is it still dark out?” Dash shuddered. “Uh… don’t worry about that yet. Can you tell me what you remember from the last… well, whatever you can remember?” Scootaloo went quiet, and stayed quiet. Dash leaned a little closer, wondering if the filly had gone back to sleep. “Not… much,” Scootaloo said jerkily. “Fire. Pain. So… so much fire. Scared, alone, until…” Her muzzle crinkled. “They’re… all dead, aren’t they? Everypony at the celebration?” “Not everypony.” “But… my aunts, right?” “I… kid, please…” “Tell me!” Dash jerked backwards at Scootaloo’s sudden outburst. Tears sprang to the corners of Dash’s eyes. “I didn’t see if they got out or not. All I know is that they’re not here now.” Dash saw Scootaloo nod and heard her take a long breath. “Rainbow? If… they all died… if Ponyville is gone… then how are you here?” “I… well…” She looked down at her side and frowned. “I made… a deal. The Nightmare… Nightmare Moon, she’s in charge these days… she gave us pegasi a choice. I was one of the first to make it, though. Maybe even the first.” “What choice?” “To become her ‘True Child’… a thestral, a bat pony… or die.” “A bat pony? Can I… feel your wings?” “I don’t…” Dash bit her lip. “Okay, I guess, if you really want to.” She stood and walked around to the side of the bed, plopped down next to Scootaloo, then extended a wing over her. Dim firelight glinted in her eyes, which flicked from Dash’s face, to her wing, and back again. She watched as Scootaloo’s hoof reached out toward her, and eventually settled on the leathery bat-wing. “What happened?” Scootaloo asked. “I let a lot of ponies down that day,” Dash said, sweat beading on her brow. Scootaloo shook her head slowly. “I remember a little. The dark mare coming, and the Princess…” She shuddered. “I don’t think anypony could’ve faced that.” “It’s no excuse, kid.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I did have a choice. I could’ve… done what the others who were with me did. Y’know, kept fighting. But I chose this instead.” “What would’ve happened if you’d have stuck with them?” Scootaloo asked, her voice clear and steady. “I… they… at least died with some self-respect,” Dash all but whispered. “Then what could you have really done?” “I didn’t have to make myself part of the problem.” “Can I hug you?” “Why would you want to?" Dash blinked in the darkness, but then said: “All right.” It felt kind of weird sharing a gentle touch with somepony again, notwithstanding that Scootaloo’s forelegs threatened to crush her like a vise. But the gesture was also very warm. After a few moments she settled into the hug, and briefly even lost her fear about what the filly would say when morning didn’t turn out to be much of a morning after all. “I want to see it,” Scootaloo said after a moment. “See what?” “Ponyville.” Dash’s eyes widened. “What? No, we can’t go back. There’s nothing there.” “I want to.” Scootaloo didn’t meet her eyes. “Whatever’s there, or… not there, I just need to see it for myself.” “I…” Dash gritted her teeth, thinking back on the expeditionary force, and on how likely Wind Rider was to send somepony back for them if Redheart wasn’t around when he needed her. “I don’t know. You don’t really want to go back there, do you? Nothing but… broken buildings, and old memories that you’re better off forgetting.” “I need to go.” Thoughts of Redheart popped into Dash’s mind. First came the imagined protests that Dash knew she’d raise about dragging Scootaloo away from bed rest given her fragile condition. But it also dawned on her that Redheart would need to be flown back in an air-chariot, and if she had to grab one anyway, it might not be much worse to just get a two-seater for Scoots’ sake and stop by Ponyville on the same trip. “Okay, look… maybe we can go out there, but we need to go get Redheart and make sure you’re fit to travel. Got it?” “Why wouldn’t I be fit to travel?” “…Don’t worry about it. She said you’re looking good. It’s just hard not to worry, you know? It’s kinda nice, having somepony to worry about again.” “Sure, I guess,” Scootaloo said, smiling. “Sounds pretty lame, though, wanting to worry.” Dash gritted her teeth. “Yeah, well… that reminds me, let’s put a cloak on you, too. I don’t want to draw any more attention to you than I already have. It’s not exactly safe these days to be an actual intact pegasus.” Dash’s heart felt hollow as she watched Scootaloo’s smile fade.