//------------------------------//
// I Can See The Stars Again 
// Story: Angels Of Blue 
// by Dawn Leaper 
//------------------------------//


'Cause the sky has finally opened,
The rain and wind stopped blowin',
But you're stuck out in the same ol' storm again...'






The first thing Soarin noticed was cold. 

It was a subtle sort of chill, that crept it's way up his spine and made his feathers tingle. The breeze nipped gently at his ears, whipping his mane around as a rumble of low thunder ricocheted sonorously across the pale, rapidly darkening sky. He felt his body shake. 

His eyes whipped open. 

Soarin sprung to his feet, heart racing as the echo of Dash's voice, accompanied with a warm touch and a bright light, ran through his thoughts. 

Glancing around, his heart sunk in disappointment as he realised he was no longer at the Gate. He was on the cloud he had landed on last night, and judging from where the sun was glowing dimly through the heavily overcast sky, it was the late afternoon. 

He had been here for nearly an entire day? 

At least that explained the stiffness of his muscles, and the numbness in his fetlocks and ears. Wincing, he open his wings and stretched them out slowly, rotating his limbs and feeling the small bones and cricks as they popped back into place. Staying out on a cloud all night when you were as old as he was probably hadn't been the best idea. 

He remember, with a melancholic twinge, how he and Dash used to do it all the time when they were young, the warmth of each other's wings their own comfort. They used to spend hours of their free time chilling in the stratosphere, above where other pegasi dared to fly, taking naps and having idle chats and playful races amongst... other things. 

He exhaled. What had happened last night... that had been in his subconscience, hadn't it? Luna must have to had heard him, from wherever she was now. 

But that hour with Dash... it was just like one of their chats all over again. Being with her was as easy and breathing, and Soarin felt as if he had come gasping up for air after struggling underwater for so long. 

If only they could have had longer. 

Sighing, he lowered himself back down to the cloud. He felt... he wasn't sure what he felt actually. The bitterness at losing her, the elation of seeing her, the pique at the fact it was only a dream... 

He shivered as he felt something cold and wet drip down onto his head and and trickle slowly down his neck. He barely registered as more and more droplets began to fall in quicker succession, until his mane began to curl down round his ears, damp in the full-on rainshower. 

The little voice in his head told him to go home, get dry, keep warm, before he caught his death of cold. But he needed time to process what had just happened, and he knew home would probably be filled with worried family members fussing over his health, which had sharpy deteriorated over the past three years. 

So he sat there, in the rain, gazing into the endless grey stretch before him, wondering mildly if you flew far enough, to the end of Equestria, if the charcoal horizon would disappear. 

The rain annoyed most ponies in Cantelot, especially those of non-pegasi species. The rain was a sad metaphor, Soarin mused, until you looked at the beauty in a singular drop. The way it refracted and bent sunlight, creating seven different lightwave lengths, and thus seven different colours, nature's magic at its finest. He could sit inside for hours and listen to the rain clattering on the roof. 

"Dad?" A familiar raspy voice sounded faintly from the distance below him. "Dad, is that you?" 

It was growing louder, but Soarin's eyes were still fixed on the pewter-coloured stretch of clouds floating gently before him. 

"Dad!" The voice came directly to the side of him now, equal parts fear, frenzy and relief. 

Soarin finally turned his head to see his son, Prism, land on the cloud, his red, yellow and blue mane drenched. He shook the rainwater off his wings as he raced across the cloud.

"For Celestia's sake, Dad, where have you been for the past twenty hours!" Prism exclaimed, extending his wings across Soarin to shelter the old stallion from the rain as his father rose to his knees. 

"Sunny and all the kids and I have been looking everywhere for you, Dawn's borderline hysterical- have you been sitting here for an entire day, are you tryna get pneumonia Dad-" 

Soarin nodded absently, lost in his thoughts as Prism rambled on frantically. He closed his eyes, letting the rain run over his muzzle as he heard his son grow quiet beside him. 

"Are you thinking about Mom again?" Prism's tone shifted, quiet and sad, tinged with a edge that hinted at a deeper agony. "We all miss her. I know she's happy, wherever she is."

"Yeah..." Soarin murmured, pulling his eldest closer to him as he recalled his dream, "I know she is." 

And just then, in a strange, magical moment of miracle or chance, the alabaster clouds in front of them parted slightly, as if blown apart by divine forces, a single sliver of golden sunlight gleaming through the parted darkness. The light filtered through like little golden rivers, and slowly, a stream of light coloured seven distinct tones formed in the air, suspended and shimmering and subtly sartorial. 

A perfect rainbow.  

Then Soarin did the absurd. He chuckled.

"Dad?" Prism nudged him anxiously, eyes dark with concern, "Dad, what's wrong? Don't be a hero- what do you need?" 

Soarin turned to his son, his eldest, and looked into the bright magenta eyes that were an exact replica of his wife's, as if the Universe had gotten lazy and simply copied and pasted Dash's exact hue, colour and tone into another little being. 

Except this being wasn't little any more, with greying hairs of his own, and half an inch of height on his father.

Soarin had marvelled upon it many times in his life, but Prism's uncanny resemblance to Dash, in both mannerisms and colouring, struck him like an arrow in the heart, like biting your own lip and drawing blood. Painful, but powerful and comforting. 

'You'll never lose me...'

And Soarin smiled a smile that Prism hadn't seen since the death of his mother. "Nothing," his father replied, voice oddly serene, "nothing at all. Let's go home." 





Three years later.





In his subconscience, Soarin could hear the heart monitor beeping, the pulse fluctuating and slowing as his heartrate thudded erratically, valiantly, in his chest. 

He had lived three more years without Dash. Three lonely years, but better than the first three. Six, in total. Six. He had felt his time coming for a while. It was getting hard to breathe, hard to stand, and a couple of weeks ago, he had suffered from severe wing failure and had to be admitted to the hospital. 

There were gentle, sad voices in his ear, warm hooves on his, light feathers that touched his sides, soft lips that brushed his cheeks. He felt something wet and hot run down his cheek, and run into his mouth, which lay slightly ajar. The liquid was salty. 

Tears. But... but they weren't his. Soarin concentrated, opening one eye. His daughter lay on his chest, her forehead nestled in his neck, tears running down her cheeks. Prism clutched his hoof as Sunny's head rested on his stomach, wings brushing against his sides. 

Soarin's lips curved up into a final smile. 

"Chins up, my peanuts..." he whispered, his voice barely audible.  His three children, whom he valued more than life itself, raised their gazes to fix on his. Prism, with Dash's eyes, and Sunny and Dawn, with Soarin's own.  "This isn't goodbye... it's more like... see you later... alligator..." 

"In a while, crocodile..." Sunny replied, smiling through his own tears. 

"Say hi to Mom for us..." Dawn whispered, her eyes red. 

"I love you so much, Dad..." Prism choked out, edging as close as possible. 

"Love you... all of you... to the moon... and back..." Soarin exhaled, his eyelids fluttering closed. 

The darkness was comforting, soothing even. It was a place to rest. A place to not be afraid of. A place he felt himself being pulled into with every fairy-light breath that escaped his exhausted lungs. 

Soarin had always wondered what dying was like. What cutting the string and departing this life felt like. A small little flame, one of millions, being snuffed out on the massive roaring furnace that was life. 

It was surprisingly peaceful, the inebriating drowsiness. All he could think about was how he was so very tired. 

And through his eyelids, he could see glimmering of multicoloured light, a fireworks display in the black abyss. He wasn't sure if it was the glaring hospital lights, or the vibrancy of his children's mane, streaked with silver, or a delusion of his weary mind... but it was beautiful. A glimpse of Heaven. 

"I can see the stars again..." he smiled, and then the sweet darkness engulfed him.





He could see a orange glow through his eyelids, and feel the satiny warm clouds underneath his hooves. The breeze smelt like freesia and jasmine and chilli and apples. 

He smiled, opening his eyes. Everything about him was tranquil. 

The Gate seemed a lot less intimidating now. The large Hall in which the Soulkeeper (or Marge) resided, seemed smaller and more comforting. It was exactly how he had remembered it before, only this time, it wasn't the cobalt blue sky of the day peeking through the ceiling, but the glorious dark expanse of night, the stars dripping light burning in such bright colours he had never seen up close before. 

He raised his gaze towards the tunnel of forever-light, and laid eyes upon the very pony who meant more to him than his own life. Who he would always reunite with, in the end. 

Dash smirked at him, her lips teasing. "Well, I'm getting mega déjà vu right now," she giggled, whipping her mane cheekily across her shoulders, "I don't know about you."

"Oh, really? Hmmm... that's strange..." Soarin chuckled, moving towards her, "You know me, I always like to change things up a bit."

"Hmm... I don't know..." she snorted, "you were pretty boring with all your dessert orders from Sugarcube Corner. What was it you always used to get? Apple pie... apple pie... apple pie... oh, did I mention apple pie?"

"To their credit, they had spectacular fritters as well," Soarin added seriously, raising an eyebrow. 

"I've no idea how you didn't end up weighing like, a bazillion tonnes," she snickered. 

"Well, besides being a gym rat, and, you know, the other ways of burning calories," he bounced his eyebrows suggestively as Dash face-hoofed, "I'd say being a Wonderbolt for an odd forty-two years of my life-"

"Oh, just get over here, you hot idiot," Dash laughed, bouncing slightly with the apprehension of embracing him again. 

He grinned at her, before taking some more steps towards where the barrier hovered, shimmering slightly, a mirage in the air. Tentatively, he reached a hoof across. 

It passed right through. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Dash smiled at him, taking his hoof on the other side. He gasped at her touch, as warm and soft and strong as he remembered. "Come on through."

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pushed his way seamlessly through the barrier. It was as if it hadn't even been there in the first place. It was a strange sensation, and not an unpleasant one. His body grew warm very suddenly, and saw through his lashes that a glistening blue aura had engulfed him, swishing and oscillating around his body as the aura levitated him about three feet off the ground. 

Being released was like a breath of fresh air. Suddenly his weary vision felt fresh and sharp again, his swollen joints felt flexible and sturdy and muscular, he could see his mane as it flopped down over his face was a deep midnight blue with no hint of grey, and when he reached up a hoof to feel his face, the skin was smooth and unblemished. 

Like his wife had retained her rainbow mane and athletic figure, he too had regained a part of his youth. And when he glanced back at the barrier, he could see a slightly, blurry reflection of himself, and the new pattern of swirls and diamonds that rested like a dark blue tattoo between his eyebrows. 

"Check you out," Dash smirked, biting her lip. "You know, I never would have thought you could have pulled off a face tattoo..." 

Soarin raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Ah, who am I kidding... of course I did," she snickered, flushing slightly. "I've missed you, you doofus."

He laughed, as his heart, once broken, was beginning to seal itself rapidly back together, fragment by fragment, piece by piece. 

He suddenly pulled her close to him, relishing in the devastatingly familiar scent of her hair, heat of her skin, the shape of the crown of her head, which fit so perfectly into the crook of his neck. He crushed her to him, drinking in all the little things he had missed over the past three years, tears beginning to squeak out both their eyes as they stood there embracing for Celestia knows how long, their reunion suddenly became very, very real. 

There was a cough behind them. 

Marge sat at her desk, which she had not been sitting at before, and was tapping a hoof impatiently on the ground. 

"Fie... s'rry to int'rrupt thy tend'r moment, but I needeth to regist'r thy nameth, sire." She raised her eyebrows, her voice monotone. 

Soarin coughed and broke away from Dash, approaching the desk hastily. "Um... Soarin Skies?" He said, as Marge pulled her typewriter towards her and ran a hoof down the list of names. 

"Which one art thou? Th're be a 'Soaring Skyes' from Appleloosa, one in Manehatten, th're's a 'Soreen Skies', but on second thoughts, thee behold not liketh thou art from Saddle Arabia.  Oh, and the Wonderbolt 'Soarin Skies'-"

"That's me!" Soarin interrupted her, smiling sheepishly as Marge shot him a acidic look. 

"Hmm," Marge nodded, ticking his name off the list. "Doth thee knoweth how many 'Soarin Skies' I did add to the listeth aft'r thee becameth a Wonderbolt? Parents these morns art so un'riginal with names..." Marge grumbled, huffing. 

Dash rolled her eyes. "Come on, Soarin. You have so many people to meet!" She exclaimed, dragging him towards the tunnel of forever-light. "I'm gonna show you everything!"

Now that he was on the other side of the barrier, the tunnel seemed a lot less bright and more like like actual tunnel. He could see the cobbled road, paved with scenes from his own life, leading up through the dark sky and up to a golden gate in the clouds that seemed to waver in and out of tangibility. 

He felt an irresistible pull towards it, as if some part of him deep inside, the very essence of who has was, was yearning to belong there. Home was where the heart is, and so many people who had Soarin's heart were up there, in the Great Beyond. 

Dash looped her arm through his as he tucked a wing over her shoulders. She melted into his embrace as they took a step into the unknown. 

"Come on," she smiled, her heart finally at peace. "Let's go home." 






'You hold tight to your umbrella,
Well, darlin', I'm just tryin' to tell ya,
That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head...'