Sunset found herself unwilling to leave the hospital room. As morning passed into afternoon and into evening, Applejack and Fluttershy left. Tomorrow was a school day, after all. Rainbow Dash, however, refused to go.
“You guys can go if you want,” Rainbow Dash said. “I’m not leaving her.”
Applejack pressed her, saying that Rainbow Dash had been there too long and needed a break.
“I’m not leaving her.” Rainbow Dash repeated. And so her friends went home for the night, leaving Rainbow Dash and Sunset’s unconscious body alone.
In her ethereal state, Sunset watched as Rainbow Dash drifted in and out of sleep half a dozen times before she finally gave up on getting any rest. Rainbow Dash moved her chair a little closer to Sunset’s hospital bed, and as she sat back down, she leaned her head on one of the machines beside her.
“Hey, S-Sunset...” Rainbow Dash’s voice was dry and shaking. “This... This is my fault. I know that. I just... I hope you know I never wanted this to happen. Ever since this whole Anon-a-miss thing started, I—I don’t know...”
Sunset knelt beside Rainbow Dash’s chair. Even though she knew that Rainbow Dash wouldn’t hear her, she felt compelled to respond.
“I don’t understand you,” Sunset said. Just as she thought, Rainbow Dash made no indication of noticing her. “I know I made mistakes, and I tried so hard to make up for that. Just before Anon-a-miss started posting, I was beginning to believe you saw me as one of your friends. When I realized the truth...”
“I was so confused,” Rainbow Dash whimpered. “When the others first suspected you, I didn’t know what to think. But as time went on and more of the signs pointed to you, I think I made up my mind before any of the others. I didn’t want to think about the details. I just...”
“I wanted to believe I knew you better than that,” Sunset said. “I thought you would never turn your back on me. I thought you would trust me when I told you it wasn’t me.” She looked at Rainbow Dash, the sounds of the heart monitor ringing in her ears. “It was never enough, I guess. I was never enough. I want to blame you, but I know the truth.”
“I wanted it to be you,” Rainbow Dash said. “I don’t know why. Some part of me, some stupid, petty thing in my head wanted you to be the bad guy again, because I was used to that. It made sense. It was the way things had been for so long that I just never stopped to question it, and by the time I realized how wrong I was... I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself...”
“I don’t blame you for hating me,” Sunset said. “Of course you would hate me. The things I did for years... The things I would have done if Princess Twilight hadn’t shown up...”
“It’s unforgivable,” Rainbow Dash said, her head drooping. “If—when you wake up, I won’t ask for forgiveness. I don’t deserve it. None of us do, after what we’ve put you through...”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Sunset said. “I wish I could go back. I wish I could talk to the person I was back then, and tell her there’s a better way. When I first came here, I was so bitter and selfish and angry. I just wanted to feel in control, and I was so scared of losing that control, so I lashed out at everyone. I hurt you all so much... I was a fool to think I could wipe the slate clean. I don’t deserve that. There really is no going back...”
“All I can do is try to be better,” Rainbow Dash said. “I know it’ll never be enough, though. There’s no way I can make up for all this. Applejack was right—I don’t think anything can.” Tears streamed down Rainbow Dash’s cheeks. “After everything you did to turn your life around and be a better person, we threw it all back in your face, and look what happened. I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life for that...”
“I wish I could hate you,” Sunset sighed. “Part of me does, anyway. Which isn’t to say I forgive you or any of the others, though.”
“I can’t get it out of my head, Sunset. That look you gave me on the roof, I mean,” Rainbow Dash said. “If I’d been a little faster, maybe—maybe I could’ve stopped you. Maybe I could have saved you.”
Sunset looked up at her unconscious body, lying motionless before her. “There were some things you shouldn’t have had to see. You or Rarity. Of all the things I hate about myself, what I think I hate most is that I put you both through that...”
“I’m sorry, Sunset...” Rainbow Dash cried softly.
“I hope you can forgive me one day,” Sunset said.
Rainbow Dash’s quiet sobbing blended with the clicking and beeping of the various machines in the room. Sunset stayed silent, her transparent figure still kneeling on the floor. Upon glancing at the hospital bed, her mind drifted away from the present.
Sunset had spent a full day in this room, and in all that time, the only thing she had seen regarding her health was the nurse taking her vitals every few hours. She felt a degree of shame every time the nurse would roll up the bed sheet and reveal Sunset’s scars, and she felt a confusing sense of disappointment every time she saw her vitals were stable.
Why, though? As the evening passed in silence, Sunset found herself caught between the exhaustion of living and the dread of dying. Her conversation with Luna played over and over in her mind as Sunset searched herself for some scrap of hope she could cling to, yet nothing ever came. For all the volatility in her mind, Sunset reluctantly acknowledged that the only constant was her wish to just be done with it all.
Such a feeling left her even more disgusted with herself. Rainbow Dash had not left her side from the moment she got here, and yet Sunset still wanted to die. The resentment made her yearn for an ending even more, creating a vicious cycle of self-loathing. In the time that had passed since the Fall Formal, such occurrences had been a common issue for Sunset. To handle this, she frequently resorted to her razor, though she had sometimes corresponded with Princess Twilight as another means of distraction.
Thinking about Twilight only made Sunset more miserable. What would she think of Sunset now? Luna had made it clear that she had not informed anyone in Equestria of Sunset’s situation, implying that such a decision had to be made by Sunset herself. And in the months leading up to her fall, Sunset had drifted further and further from Twilight, neglecting her journal entirely.
What would be the point, anyway? Twilight always meant well, but anything she said to Sunset would be the same advice she’d heard before. And yet, if this was going to be the end, she would like to see Twilight one more time. While the thought of such a conversation filled her with anxiety, Sunset still found herself longing to talk to Twilight for the first time in months.
“Luna?” Sunset spoke out loud. “I’d like to come back now. I have a favor to ask.”
Several moments passed, then her vision filled with light.