Misty Fly was a pony who liked blowing shit up.
Early on the Wonderbolts relied mostly on fire and especially lightning to fight the strange monsters plaguing Equestria. But eventually Dr. Whooves began providing them an assortment of experimental explosives of varied effect; not all could be described as entirely successful (or safe to handle, strictly speaking) but Misty found great satisfaction in using them nonetheless. It wasn’t the mechanics of the process, though she understood that well enough. She didn’t fool herself that they were exacting any kind of karmic retribution. She just thought it was pretty cool, and doing it made her look and feel cool.
Cooler than usual, that is.
The prototypes she and Soarin, and Pizzelle and High Winds had toted along to Baltimare were among the Doctor’s better efforts: lightweight, and fashioned in such a way that they didn’t interfere with their wings, or run uncomfortably hot when fired. Misty intended to rate the weapons highly in debriefing.
Everypony was in great spirits as they prepared to head back, with Soarin in particular eager to get home before Luna raised the moon. If she was being honest with herself, Misty had to admit she kind of envied him.
They had only just started to pick up speed on the way out of town when she noticed the conservatory. It was still in decent shape, with what appeared to be a circular concert hall adjacent. Had Lyra ever performed there?
Misty snapped to a halt and flew backwards a bit, finally stopping to stare at the structure as a crazy idea began to take root in her mind.
“Misty Fly? Dizzy?” Soarin had flown back to see what was up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” she returned slowly. “Yeah, I’m good. Listen - why don’t you guys go on ahead. I need to take care of something, then I’ll catch up.”
His eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I am not.”
“What is it that you need take care of?”
“I don’t want to say.”
“Uh-huh. Well, request denied. Let’s go.”
“Oh, for Celestia’s - just cut me some slack here!”
“Misty, you know any kind of solo outing down here is completely out of the question. Spitfire would have both our asses if I let you do that. Where is this even coming from? What’s this about?”
She jerked her head back in the direction of the conservatory. “I want to see if there’s a lyre.”
Soarin stared at her flatly.
“It’s like a small harp,” she added helpfully.
“I know what a lyre is, Misty Fly.”
“Okay, then maybe you’ve noticed one on my girlfriend’s ass??? It means she kind of likes it.”
“Oh yeah? As much as you like insubordination?”
“C’mon, Clipper, don’t pull that shit with me. You can understand where I’m coming from, right?”
“Look, if you want a lyre, why don’t you just ask Blaze and Thunderlane to find one for you? They can file a mission request and -“
“Because I don’t want it to come from them, I want it to come from me!” If they’d been standing she would have stamped her hoof. She had one more card to play, and it was a damn good one, but it was a borderline low blow, so she hesitated to go there.
On the other hoof, if he wasn’t going to make the connection on his own …
“Be honest,” she crossed her forelegs. “If you had had the chance to find those apples instead of Thunderlane, wouldn’t you have taken that shot? Wouldn’t you have liked to be the one to find them for AJ?”
Soarin frowned and cast his eyes downward. Nailed it, Misty triumphed internally. Of course, now he goes looking all sad and making me feel guilty…
“Listen,”she drew closer and lowered her voice, although Pizzelle and High Winds were nowhere near close enough to hear anyway. “I know Lyra and I aren’t like you and Applejack. We don’t have the same kind of… relationship.” Ugh, ew, relationship. Misty hated that word. “But the truth is I kind of want that. It’s how I feel about it anyway and I’m trying in my own way to show her that.”
Soarin’s expression had softened and now he quirked a smile. “It’s for your relationship, huh?”
This prick knows me too well.
“Alright, listen. I can’t let you go in there alone. Let me send them back and I’ll go in with you.”
“No way.”
“On the contrary. It’s the only way. Take it or leave it.”
Shit. Misty rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
She flew broad circles around the building, scoping things out from above while Soarin spoke to Pizzelle and High Winds. There were wide double doors leading into the concert hall that were set wide open. Left that way when everypony fled in a panic? She couldn’t remember any particular stories about the fall of Baltimare.
“I told them we should only be about a half hour behind them,” Soarin said as he swooped up alongside her, considering the doors.
“And if we aren’t?” She had to ask.
“Give us another half and then fess up to the Captain.”
Misty hissed. “And then the shit hits the fan.”
“We can quit now if you want to and ask her to come back another time. Your call.”
“Nah. It’ll take us what, 15 minutes tops to clear the building and hopefully dig up a lyre. What could go wrong?”
Soarin cringed. “You had to say that out loud, didn’t you?”
Misty was warming up to the idea of this little side mission, a little adventure in the name of love. She was grinning broadly as she gave Soarin a shove. “What do I have to be worried about? You’re the CO here. If things go south it’s on your head.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
The lobby reflected the disuse of years, dusty, leaf strewn, and vaguely eerie in the way they were accustomed to finding hastily abandoned properties. All in all though, they had seen much worse. There were no particular signs of struggle or of hopeless last stands. A bar on the left and a small souvenir stand were well stocked and organized. The ticket booth closed. Aside from the front doors left open everypony might be assumed to have left in orderly fashion.
Misty and Soarin hovered just inside, ears twitching. Silence. He looked at her and shrugged.
“Lead the way.”
Misty flew over to peer through the doors of the theater, also wide open. The years of fresh air had not entirely washed away the all too familiar, stinging, acrid smell the creatures gave off. She could see that most of the seats on one side of the theater had been torn up; here, then, the confrontation had taken place.
“We must have some ponies from Baltimare, right?” Soarin rose higher to check out the balcony.
“Probably a few at least. I don’t remember who they sent out here to assist, though. I don’t remember hearing anything about it.”
“The doors on this level are wide open too.”
“Soarin, look!” Misty called him back, as she noticed the orchestra pit. They reached the string section simultaneously, and there, beneath an overturned music stand, was a lyre. For a moment they just stared incredulously, then exchanged triumphant grins. Soarin gently scooped aside some fallen sheet music while Misty lifted the instrument and blew the dust away. Already she was imagining how she might present it to Lyra. Laying on the pillow beside her when she woke up one morning, like a vision from a beautiful dream?
“Is it okay?” Soarin asked eagerly. “Does it still work, like, the strings aren’t too brittle?”
Misty ran her hoof across them. It wasn’t exactly music but it sounded okay. “I think so? That sounded right…right?”
Soarin smiled reassuringly. “It will sound even better when Lyra plays it. Does she use her hooves or her magic?”
“I honestly don’t know - but I can tell you she’s great with both!” Misty winked and Soarin snorted with laughter.
“I gotta admit, Misty, you were right. That was easy!” The red velvet stage curtain behind them billowed slightly in the breeze.
Wait, what breeze?
Misty saw her own panic reflected in Soarin’s eyes in the split second before the huge creature spilled off the stage, flailing its limbs and howling. She shot straight upwards, clutching the lyre to her chest. Soarin had been knocked backwards by one of the thing’s appendages; just barely, behind the billowing mass of the creature she saw him slide through an opening at the base of the stage.
The thing was focused entirely on her. It took a swing and she felt a claw rake through her left wing as she turned and then hook onto the now empty canister where the explosives had been. It had lifted up slightly to grab her and had an awkward angle but still it was dragging her down as she beat her wings furiously and fumbled at her harness. When the clasp finally gave her equipment fell away and she shot towards the doors on the second floor as the monster screamed hungrily.
Window, window, she needed a window. She rocketed through the doorway behind the balcony seats and nearly smashed into the wall. Fly through the pain, Misty, you’ve done it before. The first window she located was stuck fast but she muscled it open and tumbled out to find Soarin.
Except he wasn’t there.
She now barely noticed the pain in her wing and her side as she circled the building frantically. Hadn’t he been able to sneak out when that thing came after her? Unbidden, an image of Applejack flashed in her mind. Applejack, walking to the farm bright and early every morning. Smiling a soft, knowing smile and humming to the foal in her belly. Soarin’s foal. I am not going to widow that mare, Misty vowed. I will not be responsible for bringing her more grief. Tossing the lyre onto the rooftop she headed back inside.
The creature was trying unsuccessfully to cram itself into the small door Soarin had disappeared through. Misty whistled piercingly to get its attention. She noticed it listing slightly when it turned and rolled towards her; it was injured. That makes two of us.
“Soarin!” she screamed as it started to pursue her clumsily. Hoping to see him emerge. Was he hurt? That thing wasn’t moving much faster than her but it had a long reach. She doubted her ability to dart around it and get under the stage to look. The smell was overwhelming as she tried to get closer. “Soarin!” she choked out.
“Misty!” She nearly jumped out of her skin when he suddenly grabbed her from behind. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Up to the roof.” He supported the side with the injured wing as he lead her back outside.
“Fuck, where were you? How’d you get out?”
“There’s a lift leading up to the stage behind the curtain. Took me a while to get to an exit though.”
She glanced at his hooves. “You’re bleeding!”
“Misty, that’s you.”
“Huh?” She peered under her wing and saw a long cut tracing the path the claw had taken when she’d disengaged her harness. “Ohhh shit….” She started to sway unsteadily.
“Sit down. Let me have a look at it.” He shrugged out of his harness, letting the spent canisters clatter to the ground, and unclipped a small first aid kit.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“Misty, stop saying that. It’s not your fault.”
“It is entirely my fault.” She winced as he started to clean the wound.
“It’s not too deep, thankfully. I can bandage it up well enough but we’ll need a doctor to look at it tomorrow. Or Lyra.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Misty, your wing is shredded. You can’t do a flight that long right now and I can’t carry you the whole way.”
“We’ll stop along the way.”
“No. It’ll be dark soon. Better to stay up here where we know we’re secure for the night. If we have to rest along the way, best to do it in the daytime.”
“When Pizzelle and High Winds go to Spitfire won’t she send anypony after us?”
“I don’t think so. Not at night, not when they won’t know for sure if we’re still in Baltimare.”
“Shit, we’re going to be in so much trouble. She won’t be able to talk for a week with how much she’s going to scream at us.”
“I don’t know. She might surprise you. Rainbow Dash on the other hoof? She’s going to tear us both a new one for worrying Applejack. Is that too tight?” He patted the bandage wound around her middle. Misty winced but this time it was more from the guilt than the pain.
“You don’t deserve that but I do. I feel so incredibly stupid about this whole thing. What a stupid fucking idea.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Soarin picked up the discarded lyre and gave it back to her. “It was a sweet idea. Romantic. You know, you were right about the apples. Even though I was happy for Jackie, I really resented that it wasn’t me who found them for her. And so I was a total dick to Thunderlane for about three days afterwards, when I should have been thanking him.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it. I’m a dick to Thunderlane almost every day.”
He smiled. “Lyra’s going to love this. And I don’t regret it one bit.” Very faintly, they could still hear the creature raging in the auditorium below. “Actually there’s one thing I do regret,” Soarin amended. “I regret we don’t have anyway of killing that bastard.”
A slow smile spread across Misty’s muzzle as she eyed the bottle of rubbing alcohol. “That depends. Do you feel like bringing me some supplies from the bar downstairs?”
About a half hour later, just before the moon appeared, Soarin led the creature outside. Misty struck a match and touched it to the soaked napkin stuffed into the neck of a liquor bottle.
She always was a pony who liked blowing shit up.
Her aim was true. The creature screamed and flailed and snapped its jaws uselessly as it was engulfed in flames. Misty tucked the embossed book of matches into her flight suit, a little souvenir of her own.
Soarin brought her a few broken seat cushions he’d snagged from the concert hall. “Here, use these. Laying on the cold concrete won’t help you feel any better.”
“Thanks Dad,” she snarked as she arranged herself as comfortably as possible.
He grinned good-naturedly. “Hey, I need to squeeze in as much practice as possible. And you’re a lot slower and easier to catch than Flurry Heart, so that’s good.”
“Sometimes it still seems so weird that you’re about to be a father.” Misty shook her head. “You seem so relaxed about it. Aren’t you nervous?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” Soarin settled himself nearby and folded his hooves behind his head. “I’m nervous about being a good dad. I mean, it’s something I’ve wanted for a long time but I didn’t have a very good role model for that.”
“You didn’t have a very good role model for being a world class athlete either, or a good teammate, good friend, good husband, and all around great guy. But you figured all that out and you’ll figure out this too.”
“Wow. That’s the single nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Misty. Should we be concerned about head injury?”
“Ha-ha. It was a moment of weakness, don’t get used to it. I saw AJ on the way in this morning. She looked really beautiful.”
“She’s been amazing.” Misty could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it. “She knows just what to do, like, instinctively. Dr. Spring Flight said she probably won’t even need him to attend the birth. I love seeing this side of her, “ he enthused. “She’s so happy right now. Singing. Talking about her mom a lot more. Every night Scootaloo and Dash and I take turns reading to the baby; she says she can feel it turn its head toward the sound of my voice.”
Misty was trying so hard not to cry her chest was heaving. “She must be freaking out that you didn’t come home tonight. Fuck, Soarin - I am so, so sorry about this.” She squeezed her eyes shut but a couple tears leaked out.
“Hey, c’mon, stop beating yourself up over it. You had a good reason, I agreed to come with you, and what’s done is done. Jackie’s not the freaking out type. She’ll be a little nervous but she understands that shit happens.”
“You know, the nicer you are about this, the worse I feel.”
“Yeah,” he laughed. “That’s kind of what I’m going for.”
“My guilt won’t last forever.”
“I’ll enjoy it while I can. Hey, what about Lyra? Will she get upset?”
“Actually she’s working late and we didn’t have plans until tomorrow,” Misty sniffed. “She probably won’t realize I’m gone.”
“Oh… okay. That’s good I guess.”
Misty couldn’t see his expression in the increasing darkness. She supposed if she were going to talk about her feelings with anypony he was the logical choice.
“Soarin, do you ever think - wonder, if there wasn’t a war… do you think you and Applejack still would have ended up together?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know,” he mused. “I kind of always had a thing for her. Whenever Dash would bring her friends to a show I’d always look for her, make time to talk.”
“I remember that,” Misty murmured wistfully. Goddess, how she missed shows, when she let herself think of them.
“We’ve always been really comfortable around each other. I always thought she was good looking. And anytime I could get her to call me ‘Sugarcube’? That would make my whole month.”
“That is pretty great,” Misty agreed. “We all love that!”
“I thought about asking her out a lot but I didn’t think I had time for a relationship. And I had grown out of one night stands by then.”
Misty snorted. “Not me!”
“Yeah, we know. Figures, it would take the end of the world to get you to stop sleeping around!”
“Hey!” She flailed a hoof ineffectively in his direction. “Come closer so I can hit you!”
“You know I’m right!” Soarin snickered. “Anyway I like to think that I would’ve asked her out at some point, and she would have said Yes, and we still would’ve wound up together. I really can’t imagine myself with anypony else.”
“Did AJ ever have a special somepony before you?”
“Nah. I mean, there were a few other ponies along the way but nothing serious. She was like me, married to her work.”
Misty’s voice when she finally responded was so quiet Soarin could barely make out the words. “Lyra had a special somepony.”
“I know. Shit, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for her.”
Her!? But what about me? an awful, selfish part of Misty wanted to shout. Almost as though he’d heard her thoughts, Soarin rolled onto his side to face her in the dark.
“Misty Fly, is that was this is all about? Are you worried she’s not over her?”
“Of course she’s not over her!” Misty snapped. “Who in their right mind gets over something like that!?” Good one, Dizzy. Bite the head off the one pony you can maybe, sort of talk about this with. The one you nearly got killed no less.
“You’re right, that’s a poor choice of words.” Soarin replied calmly. “What I mean is, are you worried about how she feels about you?”
“Yes,” Misty bit out.
Soarin rolled onto his back again, and was quiet for a minute. “Even though Jackie didn’t have a special somepony,” he said finally, “she lost everything down here. Most of her friends. All of her family. Her land, her family’s legacy. And at the start I definitely did think Goddess, she loses all of that and gets what in return? Me? How do I even start to make up for all that? I get that feeling, Misty, I really do. I guess what we both have to remember is they chose to go on living and they chose us to do it with. I don’t know Lyra well but obviously you’re what she needs right now. Jackie told me you two are really good for each other. Maybe what’s between you will look different someday, maybe it won’t. But she is choosing you.”
“Shows what she knows, right?” Misty gave a shaky laugh. At some point when Soarin was speaking the tension in her chest had started to loosen. She was crying a little bit too, and it felt like relief.
“Loving somepony that much can be scary, I know. But you’re good enough. I promise.”
“Thank you, Soarin. A lot.”
“You’re welcome a lot.”
“You’re a good pony and you’re going to be a great dad. And listen, anyone with eyes can see how much AJ loves you. You know, she still blushes almost every time somepony talks about you? It’s truly fucking adorable, Soarin. You guys are the ultimate. Seriously.”
Soarin laughed softly. “You’re going to make me blush. But thanks.”
“Fuck, I used to be so much cooler than this!”
“Meh. Not really.”
“Asshole. Listen,I’m going to feel a lot better in the morning. We’ll leave right away so we can get home to them.”
“Yeah, and you can give Lyra her ‘small harp’!”
“I just hope she likes it.”
“She will.”