//------------------------------//
// Is that... 
// Story: It's Nothing 
// by Replach 
//------------------------------//

The Prince's Tavern
5985 11th Street, Manehattan
February 8th, 1011 A.B.
6:03 PM

"...And that's the last time I catch you here, understand?" Firestorm yelled.
The teen-aged filly sitting on the ground below her nodded, tears in her eyes. Firestorm and another officer had just caught her trying to get alcohol with a fake ID. Firestorm picked her up off the ground.
"You can't do stuff like this, Sunrise!" Firestorm continued, calming down. "You're lucky it was me that came here and not another officer, because you'd be on your way to a jail cell by now. Lucky for you, I'm not one of those officers that's unforgiving. But I'll tell you right now, if I get called out here, or another bar again, and it's you that got me called out, you're not going to be as lucky. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am," Sunrise sobbed, nodding her head. 
"Alright," Firestorm sighed. "Silver, can you take her home, please?"
Firestorm turned Sunrise over to the other officer, Silver Shield, who took the cuffs off of her front hooves. 
"Lead me home," he said to the filly, and she led him around the corner.
Firestorm turned around, keying her radio.
"72-Uniform to Dispatch," Firestorm stated, "call is Code 4, show me 10-8." She was letting dispatch know that the call was over, and she was back on patrol.
"10-4, 72-Uniform," Dispatch replied.
Firestorm walked east down 11th Street, contemplating the call she'd just been at. This was the 4th time this week, and the 2nd today, that she'd been called out to a liquor store or bar because an underage pony had been trying to buy alcohol. She knew the spike in underage drinking could be attributed to the attack on Manehattan just a few months ago. It was noticeable in adults, too. So many ponies had lost a family member or friend in the attack. Lots of them could only think of drinking their problems away.
Since the attack in October, the death toll had officially been counted as 1,768 ponies, a staggering amount. 8,316 more  had been hospitalized or treated for some sort of related injury, and 13 ponies were still recorded as missing. Firestorm herself had lost her partner, Shiny Cloud, in the attack when the Crystaller Building collapsed. She visited his grave from time to time, just to make sure she didn't forget about him. The city of Manehattan never truly stopped moving, even when it was brought to its knees, so it was almost easy for the city as a whole to move on.
Lost in thought, Firestorm almost missed a familiar voice calling her name.
"Firestorm?"
She turned around to see Fallen Angel, one of the friends she'd made on the day of the attacks. Not only had he and his sister, Shining Star, delivered clean drinking water for the first responders, Angel had helped get a little filly away from the building after Firestorm carried her out. He had also gone back and rescued another mare from the rubble after the collapse. For a young stallion such as Angel, he'd already done a lot of good in the world.
"Hey, Angel!" Firestorm exclaimed, greeting him with a hoofbump. "What brings you to this side of town?"
"Oh, you know," Angel shrugged, "just exploring, seeing what's going on around the city. I'm guessing you're working?"
"Yep," Firestorm responded, "Just got off a call, actually. Is Shining Star with you?"
"Nah, just me," Angel answered. "Star and Crimson are out at the Mall of Manehattan, so I figured I'd wander around while I've got time to myself."
"That's cool," Firestorm stated as they started walking together. "Today's been insanely busy. I can't tell you how many times I've been called out because some filly tried to get alcohol!"
"You're joking!" Angel exclaimed.
"Not only that, but it's not the first time I've been to this exact store today!"
"That's crazy," said Angel. "Hey, is that a new uniform?" He pointed out Firestorm's navy blue uniform.
"Yep," Firestorm replied, "This is the spring uniform; long sleeves, but no overcoat. We have uniforms for every season. For some reason, though, they give us the spring uniforms in February, so we get to freeze our wings off all day." 
"If you want, I can get you a spare jacket from the apartment," Angel suggested.
"Isn't your apartment on the complete other side of town?" Firestorm reminded him.
"Oh yeah," Angel responded with a chuckle. "Still, I'm sure it wouldn't take too much time."
"I think I'm good for now," Firestorm answered, "But thanks for the offer."
"No problem."
"Besides, it's 6 o'clock on a Friday. I think it would take at least an hour or two to get--"
A loud scream from the alleyway ahead of them suddenly interrupted Firestorm.
"Somepony help me!" the voice cried out.
Firestorm and Angel stopped in their tracks. Firestorm quickly moved her wing in front of Angel, signalling him to stay back. She drew her gun from its holster, and swiftly, but cautiously, moved towards the alley. Another scream, quickly muffled, confirmed their suspicions; somepony was in trouble.
Firestorm ran into the alleyway, gun pointed in front of her.
"MANEHATTAN POLICE!" Firestorm shouted with authority. No answer came. She crept down the alley, checking behind every box or corner she passed. Someone was down here, she knew that. But where?
Suddenly, a stallion burst out from behind the stack of boxes in front of her, knocking Firestorm to the ground. Firestorm keyed her panic button, quickly getting back up as the stallion grabbed her, and a grappling match ensued. This stallion, an earth pony, was bulky, almost pro-wrestler bulky. His jet black hair seemed to match perfectly with his ashen-gray coat, only intensifying his threatening look. 
Firestorm tried to look around as she fought with who was now her primary suspect, trying to figure out where the voice calling for help was. But she couldn't see anything. She was moving too fast. She tried to break away from the stallion, but he quickly whipped her around, and Firestorm hit the brick wall of the building to her left back-first, her head ricocheting off of it as she fell to the ground with a thud. 
All Firestorm could see was white. Her head suddenly pounded with pain as her vision slowly returned, and she saw the stallion make a break for it, knocking down a stack of crates as he fled from the alleyway. She wanted desperately to go after him, but all she could do was watch, concussed, as he galloped to the left, towards the bar where Firestorm's most recent call had ended.
And unfortunately for him, right into the path of Fallen Angel.
Angel quickly tripped up the stallion, who was sent sprawling face-first into the pole of a "No Carriage Parking" sign. He attempted to get up and flee again, but Angel tackled him this time, forcing him to the concrete sidewalk. Angel tried to keep him down, but the stallion was struggling, trying to wriggle free of Angel's grasp.
"Firestorm, I got him!" Angel yelled. But there was no answer.
"Firestorm!" he yelled again. Maybe she was helping whoever was still in the alley way. He knew she hadn't fired her gun, so the situation couldn't be that bad, right?
Angel was snapped out of his thoughts by a wild hoof to the face as the stallion got a leg free. Angel briefly staggered, but managed to keep himself upright as he felt the inside of his mouth start to bleed. The stallion tried forcing his way back up, nearly knocking Angel over, but Angel kept him wrapped up. Still, he felt his strength start to fade; he wasn't going to be able to keep him down forever. Where the hell was Firestorm?
Angel's internal prayers were answered, as another stallion came up from behind the suspect, tackling him back down to the ground. It was Silver Shield!
"I got him, I got him!" Silver yelled to Angel, who quickly let go of the stallion and backed off as Silver whipped out a pair of cuffs. As Silver got the stallion under control, Angel ran back into the alleyway to find Firestorm.
"Firestorm!" Angel yelled. Still no answer came. A lump started to form in Angel's throat. Surely Firestorm wasn't dead; he hadn't heard any gunshots go off. But whether she was badly hurt was a different story, and one where Angel hoped the answer was "no".
Finally, Angel saw Firestorm peek out from one of the stacks of boxes. He breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that his friend was okay. His relief quickly turned to concern, however, when he noticed she was struggling. One hoof rested on top of the boxes, and it was the only thing keeping Firestorm upright. She was noticeably staggering, and about to fall. Angel then saw the blood trickling down from a cut on her head; he knew instantly she was in trouble. 
"Woah, Firestorm!" he yelled as he grabbed her around the torso. "Not so fast! Let's sit down now."
Angel eased Firestorm down to the ground, helping her rest against the same brick wall that had caused her injury.
"Manehattan Police!" echoed a loud voice behind him. He turned around to see another officer, gun drawn, stalking down the alleyway. The officer's thick, red beard matched the boxes in the alleyway.
"Over here!" Angel cried back, waving the officer over. The officer quickly rushed over, setting down next to Firestorm.
"You okay, Firestorm?" he asked as he retrieved a bandage from one of the many pockets of his utility belt.
"N-Noooo..." Firestorm groaned, reaching a hoof up to her head.
"No, don't do that, girly!" the officer ordered, grabbing her hoof and setting it back down on her side. Angel backed off, sitting down beside the stack of boxes behind him; as much as he seemed to save the day in this city, he knew when to let the professionals do their work.
However, as he watched the officer wrap the bandage around Firestorm's wound, going into the basic concussion protocol questions, Angel couldn't help but notice audible, but muffled sobbing coming from further down the alleyway. He quickly sprung up to his hooves; he'd forgotten about the mare in distress! He galloped around the stack of boxes, and found the cries to be coming from between two stacks of crates on his left.
On the ground below him lay a young white mare, admittedly one of the prettiest he'd seen in his life. Her long, curly violet hair was ruffled up; she'd obviously been in a struggle with the stallion they'd encountered. The mare dared not look up, rather covering her face with her forelegs, all the while sobbing inconsolably. This poor mare, Angel thought to himself. Manehattan's dark side had gotten the best of her.
"Hey!" Angel shouted, trying to get the mare's attention as he reached for her shoulder. "Are you okay, miss?"
The mare moved her foreleg to get a glimpse of the stallion that seemed to be her rescuer. But as she felt Angel's hoof on her shoulder, she quickly recoiled, trying in vain to shrink herself further into the space between the crates. Angel cursed at himself. Why would I do that? he thought.
He started to look around, and spotted a bag lying in a puddle beside one of the crates. This bag looked very expensive, seemingly made of fine leather. In fact, Angel recalled seeing one just like it on display when he walked Crimson and Star to the shopping center. The one he'd seen was on sale for 1,000 bits! No wonder the stallion had chosen her as his target; anyone in Manehattan would be eyeing that bag!
Angel slowly crept towards it, trying a bit too hard not to startle the poor mare beside him, and picked it up out of the puddle. He quickly swept off any dirt lying on the bottom of it.
"I've got your bag," he told the mare.
She slowly looked up from her defensive position, eyes noticeably red and tear-stained.
"It's a little bit wet," Angel continued, giving the bag back to the mare, "but I'm sure that's no problem."
The mare reached a hoof out, grabbing the bag from Angel, and looked over it, seemingly making sure it hadn't been seriously damaged. Then she looked back up at Angel, starting to cry again. Only this time, they were tears of... thankfulness. Angel didn't have time to prepare himself before the mare quickly wrapped her forelegs around him in a tight embrace. He could feel her tears on his shoulder, but he didn't care. He returned the hug as he looked around. He'd just helped to save the day again!
Angel then noticed another officer checking out Firestorm, and decided to get their attention; after all, there was another pony in need of assistance. 
"Hey!" Angel yelled, then whistled towards the officer, raising his hoof in the air. The officer quickly took notice, and rushed over, carrying a medical kit. Angel stepped back to let the professional take over again; he'd done everything he could. Everything he wanted to do. Now it was time to sit back and let the aftermath boil over, then decide what to do from there on out. One thing was for sure, however; Firestorm was going to need a hospital visit.