//------------------------------// // 44. Drop // Story: Someone Still Loves You // by brokenimage321 //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash gave a sudden squawk that might have been a swear, then pinned back her wings and dove.  Rumble, his head spinning, clutched tighter to Rainbow’s neck, the wind shrieking in his ears. He looked up to make sure he’d seen correctly: Scootaloo, who had stood in the door of the train for barely two seconds, had leapt from the train, off the stone bridge, and straight down towards the river below.  This is what you have to look forward to, a voice in his head whispered.  Rumble shook it off, then looked up at the growing orange blur—then his gut froze to ice.  He had never been very good at math, but he didn’t need to be. His natural pegasi instincts told him that something was wrong. That Scootaloo was falling too fast. That, at her current velocity, there was no way Rainbow would be able to catch her before she broke herself on the concrete-hard river below.   He turned to Rainbow to yell in her ear to go faster, but, even as he did so, he felt her tense underneath him. He watched as Rainbow pinned her ears back, straightened her legs behind her, and pushed her forehooves straight ahead. She had slicked back every muscle to make herself as aerodynamic as a bullet, wringing every ounce of speed out of her body that it could give her. Rumble instinctively laid flat on her back, pressing his wings to his side. The least he could do would be to help a little.  * * * Almost as soon as she entered free-fall, Scootaloo realized she had made a mistake. The river below was a lot farther away than it had looked from the train car. And she was becoming increasingly aware that, though she was, in fact, a Dash, bravado had precious little say over physics.  She looked around in a panic—and her heart leapt. High above her, a streak of rainbow light shot towards her like a lightning bolt. Rainbow! She’d found her! No idea how, but, right now, that didn’t matter!  But, even as her heart thrilled with the very sight of her, Scootaloo’s brain made the same calculation that Rainbow’s and Rumble’s had: Rainbow was simply too far away, and Scootaloo was falling too fast. She was going to hit the water before Rainbow hit her. And then, a second sort of instinct kicked in—one far deeper than mere genetics: She started to flap her wings.  They were pathetic little things, by any measure, but still, she buzzed them for all she was worth. They were useless for pretty much anything except burning calories, she knew, but it was all she could do. She took a deep, shaky breath, closed her eyes, and waited for the splat... ...something twinged in her back… Scootaloo was still falling, she knew that. There was no questioning the roar of the wind in her ears. But… shouldn’t she be dead by now? She opened her eyes and looked around her. She was still falling—but she wasn’t falling as fast anymore. Her wings had slowed her fall, slowed it to the point that Rainbow might, almost… Her heart leapt into her throat, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Suddenly a cramp ripped through her wing muscles. She cried out as her wings froze painfully in place, and, once more, she fell like a stone.  * * * Rainbow screamed as Scootaloo dropped again. She had her arms held out, ready to snatch her baby out of the air and draw her close—but now that she was falling once more, her trajectory was slightly, horribly off. She angled her wings again and fell into a steeper dive, but as soon as she did, she knew she’d overcorrected. Her dive was too steep, and there was no time to change it. She was going to come within an arms’ length of catching Scootaloo—so close, and yet, not close enough—  Rainbow passed under Scootaloo, still trying to brake with her wings— —and Rumble let go of her neck, pushed off of her back, and caught Scootaloo in his arms.  The impact knocked the wind out of his lungs, and he fell another sixty feet before he could stop their descent. When his heart finally started beating again, he looked down into Scootaloo’s eyes.  “You—you saved me,” she said, in awe.  Rumble grinned stupidly, then shook his head.  “No, I didn’t,” he said. “It was—” A high-pitched squeal filled the air, and Rainbow slammed into both of them. She wrapped her arms around them both, then kissed Scootaloo over and over and over, on her cheek, on her forehead, in her mane— When the three of them slammed into the narrow, sandy beach at the river’s edge, all three rolled to a stop and lay still.  Scootaloo was the first to clamber to her hooves. She shook the sand out of her mane, then trotted over to where Rainbow lay, breathless and sore. Scootaloo squealed, then wrapped her arms around Rainbow’s neck and kissed her on the cheek.  “Rainbow,” she cried, the tears already flowing, “Rainbow, you came for me—” Rainbow opened one eye, then laughed out loud—a laugh of joy and relief.  Scootaloo gave her another kiss, and Rainbow responded by rolling onto her back, pulling her in closer and returning the kiss, over and over and over again. Beside them, Rumble staggered to his hooves. He watched Rainbow and Scootaloo for a minute, then looked away, awkwardly tucking one of his forehooves behind the other. Rainbow must have noticed the movement, because she turned to look at him.  “Get over here, Kid,” she said. “You were part of it, after all.” Rumble reared up and whinnied in excitement, then galloped over to the two of them and practically bellyflopped onto the growing pony-pile.  They lay there like that, kept from the cold by the sweaty body heat from the others, and the warmth of the love that the three of them shared, for a while.  They probably would have stayed there forever—or, at least, for another hour or two—but the chill of the night was starting to make itself known. Rainbow squeezed the two foals in her arms, then looked up. The train, high above them, had pulled to a stop just off the bridge. It seemed that some quick-thinking pony had pulled the emergency brake, and the passengers up above were still waiting to learn the fate of the little filly.  “I suppose,” Rainbow said, “We should probably go tell them how awesome we were, huh?” “Probably,” Rumble said glumly.  Scootaloo hugged Rainbow tighter. “I don’t wanna go,” she said. “They’re gonna take me away—” “No, they won’t,” Rainbow said, her voice hard. “Not while I have anything to say about it…” * * * Rumble was the first to make it back up to the train. As he flapped through the still-open door of the train car, the crowd backed up, making a space for him.  “They’re coming,” he said, gasping for breath. “Make room.” Rumble flared his wings, and the crowd did, indeed, back away a little further. And just in time—Rainbow rose unsteadily into the light, Scootaloo hanging tight to her back, and barely made it inside the car before she collapsed.  “Ow,” she mumbled. “Damn wings… musta torn something…” Scootaloo hopped off of Rainbow’s back, then walked around to face her properly.  “Rainbow?” she said, lying down beside her. “Rainbow, you okay?” “Yeah, Squirt,” she said. “Yeah, I’m fine… we’re… we’re just gonna have to take the train home tomorrow…” Scootaloo smiled, and opened her mouth to respond—but, suddenly, a pale gray glow formed around her, picked her up, and spun her around to face the opposite way—into the murderous face of Mark Stable.  “Young filly,” he said, his tone clipped to razor sharpness. “What you did was exceptionally dangerous, even for a pony who isn’t flightless. Perhaps,” he said, his tone turning icy, “we should administer a full psychological examination before you move to your new home—” “Leave her alone,” growled Rainbow from the floor.  Mr. Stable and Scootaloo turned to look as Rainbow climbed to shaky hooves, Rumble helping to keep her up.  “She didn’t want to come with you in the first place,” she said, “and she was out of options. What else did you expect her to do?” Mr. Stable looked at Rainbow over his glasses. “Are you seriously suggesting we should have predicted she would attempt to kill herself?” “She wasn’t trying to kill herself,” Rainbow insisted. “She was trying to escape. Wouldn’t you have done the same?” “I most certainly would not,” Mr. Stable said sharply. “Not if I were being offered a safe and stable home.” “She already has that,” Rainbow insisted. “And you’re just threatening to take her away from everything else that matters. Besides,” she added, “She’s old enough to make her own choices. Even if they are stupid ones,” she added, throwing a quick smile at her daughter. Mr. Stable puffed up his chest like an angry pigeon, then drew up to his full height—still two inches short of Rainbow herself.  “Not according to Equestrian Law, she’s not,” he snapped. “Foster foals aged fourteen and up may be consulted in decisions regarding their own care—but younger foals operate on impulse and emotion, not according to what’s in their best interests.” Rumble hopped forward, his eyes ablaze. “Are you saying she’s stup—!” But before he could even finish the word, Rainbow clamped a hoof over his mouth.  “Not helping, Kid,” she muttered.  There was a scuffling in the back of the crowd and, suddenly, Phillie and Bean pushed their way through.  “You’re safe!” Phillie cried. She practically leapt on Scootaloo, then grabbed her around the middle and lifted her up off the floor, examining her for injuries. Scootaloo squawked and started to flail helplessly about, but was helpless against Phillie’s determined mother-birding. Bean looked around with the helpless gaze of somepony who feels the need to do something, but sees that all the important responsibilities have already been taken care of. His idle gaze fell upon Rainbow, who stared back at him with a steely glare. She stepped towards him, then held out a hoof.  “Rainbow Dash,” she said, a razor edge in her voice. “I’m Scootaloo’s mother.” Bean raised his eyebrows, then took her hoof and shook it.  “Rainbow Dash?” he repeated. “Aren’t you the one who—?” “Who left Scootaloo home alone in order to save the rest of the town?” she finished for him. “Yes, I was.”  “Saved the town?” he repeated. “I didn’t know that…” “Yessir,” she said. “As a Wonderbolt and a formerly-ranking Weatherpony, when duty calls, you kinda have to drop everything and fly like your life depends on it. Because it actually might. Especially if your home is built specifically to withstand storms.”   Bean’s forehead furrowed the slightest bit, but still, he nodded slowly. “What are you doing here, then?” he asked.  “Saving my life, that’s what,” Scootaloo cried, from where Phillie had her turned upside-down. Phillie yelped in surprise and covered her mouth with her hooves--leaving Scootaloo to drop to the carpet with a thud. “You?” Phillie asked Rainbow, as Scootaloo moaned feebly. “You saved her?” She turned to Mr. Stable. “But you said she was neglectful…” “She is,” Mr. Stable insisted. “She has an well-established record of child neglect and endangerment.”  “But when you put it that way,” Bean said, scooping Scootaloo up of the floor, “you make it sound—” “I would like to hold my daughter, please,” Rainbow said, coldly.  Bean looked uncertainly from Phillie to Rainbow and back, then bit his lip. He passed the limp Scootaloo over to Rainbow, who tried to hold her over her shoulder, like she would a foal— “Rain-bow,” Scootaloo groaned, then pushed against her. She squirmed out of her grip, landed on the floor--right-side up this time--then moved to stand by her side. After a moment, Scootaloo leaned against one of her forelegs, then looked up at her and smiled. Rainbow looked back down at her and returned the grin. Meanwhile, Phillie and Bean were in deep discussion with Mr. Stable. “We thought Rainbow was, like, trailer trash or something,” Bean protested. “We didn’t know Scootaloo had a family—” “She doesn’t, technically speaking,” replied Mr. Stable. “And it was all spelled out very clearly on the paperwork...”  “But…” Phillie continued, “we’d be taking her away from her home—” “This isn’t a question of right or wrong,” Mr. Stable insisted. “It’s a question of practicalities.” He pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Your home is clean and safe, you can offer her consistent care, and the stable and secure environment that every young filly needs.”  Rainbow clenched her jaw, and Scootaloo snarled. “On the other hoof,” Mr. Stable continued, “Miss Dash simply cannot offer the same level of care. For one, she’s a single mother--”  “That doesn’t matter,” Rainbow interrupted. “I know kids. I’ve trained a bunch before, at Flight Camp and stuff. I can raise her on my own. A-and, if I can’t,” she added hastily, “my friends can help me. Fluttershy’s great with kids, and Twilight’s probably read a bunch on foal psychology, and Pinkie already has experience with the Cake twins.” Mr. Stable gave her a flat look. “Well, that may very well be,” he continued. “But, as I have repeatedly insisted, when the foal is a flightless pegasus, your very home is a hazard—” “We’ll move,” Rainbow insisted, cutting him off.  Mr. Stable’s eyes flashed. “—and your position with the Wonderbolts requires you to be away from home for long periods of time—” “Then I’ll quit,” she insisted. “Tomorrow. As soon as the offices open.” A gasp of shock rippled through the crowd. Phillie put her hooves over her mouth, and Bean openly gaped.  “Anything that will keep my daughter and I together,” Rainbow finished.   Mr. Stable blinked once or twice, then swallowed.  “Well,” he said. “Be that as it may, there is still one more, iron-clad reason that Scootaloo will not be returning to Ponyville.” He took a step backwards, then gestured to Phillie and Bean with his horn. “Per the paperwork, these are Scootaloo’s parents now. For good, ill, or in-between, they are responsible for her now.”  For a few seconds, there was no sound but silence. Even the train car itself seemed to hold its breath.  Then, Bean turned to look at his wife. The two of them stared into each other’s eyes for a long, silent moment—then, the two of the nodded, together. Bean smiled, then turned to look at Mr. Stable and cleared his throat.  “Mr. Stable,” he said, “we would like to withdraw our application.” “Pardon?” Mr. Stable asked, alarmed. “Our application,” Bean replied. “To adopt Scootaloo. We don’t want to adopt her anymore.” He hesitated. “We can do that, can’t we? Back out? It was in the contract…” “Yes,” Mr. Stable said slowly.  “Then,” Bean continued, “there wouldn’t be any reason why Rainbow couldn’t adopt her, would there?” There was a split-second of complete silence—and then, the train car practically exploded with cheers.   Rainbow stood there, slightly stunned, Bean and Phillie held hooves, their eyes glistening with tears, Scootaloo took Rumble by the hooves and danced around, and—unless Rainbow was mistaken—even Mr. Stable’s habitual scowl cracked a little. The raucous cheering continued for another minute or two before Mr. Stable, who had found a train seat to stand on, called out over the crowd.  “Alright, everypony,” he said, “simmer down now, simmer down…” Slowly, the cheers began to subside. When the noise level had returned to something approaching quiet, he spoke again.  “It appears that everything has worked out in your favor, Miss Dash,” he said, a faint note of resentment in his voice. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of destiny.” Another round of cheers, more subdued this time, echoed through the car. Mr. Stable gestured, and they died away, too.  “Given how these things work,” he said, “You, Miss Dash, will have to submit a second application. Though,” he added, with a roll of his eyes, “I will put a mark in Scootaloo’s file that she should not be considered for other placements in the meantime.” “Yes, sir,” Rainbow Dash said. “And I will insist that my safety concerns be addressed before we finalize the paperwork.” “Absolutely.” “In the meantime,” he said, “Scootaloo should be returned to her interim guardian. Which,” he added, with the slightest sigh, “I believe that’s you. Isn’t it, Rainbow Dash?” Rainbow Dash laughed and hugged Scootaloo tighter. The remainder of the car Aww-ed for their benefit.  “Very well, then,” Mr. Stable continued. “Everyone, please return to your seats. We still have an hour to go until Canterlot, after all.”  * * * When Scootaloo came back from the bathroom, Rainbow had her head leaned up against the window, dead-asleep and drooling. Rumble was laid out on the bench opposite her, likewise asleep. Scootaloo shook her head fondly, then climbed on the bench beside Rainbow. She tried to be quiet, but, just at that moment, the train jolted across a rough section of track, and Rainbow snapped groggily awake with a snort.  Rainbow blinked several times, then looked sleepily around the car. When she spotted Scootaloo seated next to her, her face broke into an exhausted smile.  “Hey, Squirt,” she said, reaching out and pulling her in for a hug. “How’re you doing, huh?” “I’m… good,” she said, snuggling deeper into Rainbow. “Real good.”  “That’s awesome,” Rainbow murmured.  Scootaloo looked up at her. “How are you doing? You look like you’re about to fall over…” “Long day,” Rainbow said. “Long, long day. I could sleep for a week…” “You look like you just might,” Scootaloo added, with a giggle.  The two of them held each other like that for a long moment. Finally, Scootaloo felt Rainbow swallow beside her.  “So,” Rainbow began. “You feel good about this? The, uh… the adoption thing, and all? ‘Cause if not,” she added quickly, “well, I won’t mind—” “Yes you would,” Scootaloo interrupted.  “Yeah, you’re right,” Rainbow agreed reluctantly. “But, y’know… I don’t want to force you, or anything. If you don’t wanna stay with me, you don’t have to. But…” Rainbow swallowed again, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. “Well,” she said, “it would mean a lot to me, if you did.” Scootaloo put her arms around Rainbow and pulled her tighter. “It would mean a lot to me, too,” she said.  Rainbow’s smile brightened. “So you’re saying—” “I wanna stay with you,” Scootaloo said. “Forever.” She paused. “Or until I’m eighteen, at least.” Rainbow’s smile grew even wider, and she started to tremble. She hugged Scootaloo even tighter, so tight that she could barely breathe, then kissed her on the head.  “I love you, Scootaloo,” she said, letting her go.  Scootaloo gasped for breath once or twice, then smiled back up at Rainbow.  “I love you too… Mom,” she said.  Rainbow Dash let out a sob of joy, picked Scootaloo up in her arms, and hugged her tight. Scootaloo wrapped her arms around her neck and hugged her back, tears streaming down her face. It was a private, intimate moment, in the middle of a crowded train car—just two broken-hearted ponies, finally finding themselves whole. Rainbow had found someone to love, and someone to be loved by in return. And Scootaloo had finally found a home—a real home, a forever home, a place that she belonged, and with a mother who would never, ever leave her.  The two of them stayed like that, hugging and weeping, mother and daughter, until the train pulled into the station.