//------------------------------//
// Intermission Five: Rainbow Dash and Sunrise. 
// Story: No One For the Gallows But Me 
// by Coyote de La Mancha 
//------------------------------//

The visiting room was huge and old but well-maintained: gray paint over smooth concrete walls, tiled floor, and a dozen or so round tables with plastic chairs. Two identical steel doors faced each other across the mostly empty space. One led towards the outside world, the other led further into the jail. Over each door, an old analog clock tediously counted down the time. In each corner of the ceiling, three security cameras pointed in different directions, red LEDs glowing dully as they watched all that transpired below them. Two unarmed guards, one by each door, also watched the room as they leaned against the walls.  
A third guard brought Sunrise in, clad in a fresh jumpsuit. When they reached the table, the guard removed Sunrise's handcuffs.
“You have thirty minutes,” he said as the young woman sat. Looking at her visitor, he added in a stern voice, “You need to keep it quiet, or we'll end it early.”
Puzzled, Rainbow Dash nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
The guard nodded, gave Sunrise a last glance of warning, and then departed through the inner door. Above them, a large fly buzzed incessantly around one of the hanging lights, bouncing audibly against its bulb.
Rainbow Dash watched the door close, then turned to Sunrise. “Dude. What was that all about?”
Sunrise smiled. “Apparently, Pinkie Pie isn't really good at 'quiet,' no matter what world she's from.”
Rainbow considered this, then nodded. “Yeah, okay, I can see that.”
“She tried, though.”
Rainbow Dash grinned for a moment, despite everything. “Yeah. I bet she did.”
Sunrise took in a deep breath, then let it out.  
“So, tomorrow's the big day,” she said with a forced half-smile. “Aurora's trial starts off at the crack of noon, and then my pretrial hearing's right after. I'll be there at the witness table, or wherever witnesses go. So, I guess our lawyer's going to have me present as a possible witness for her, and then go straight into pleading my own case.”
Rainbow Dash's eyebrows rose considerably. “Your hearing is right after her trial?”
“Uh-huh. Same judge, same room, everything.”
“Wow. What are the odds of that?”
Sunrise shrugged. “I don't know. Pretty long, I guess. But the Two Sisters – the ones from around here – said that if anyone can fix this, he can.”
Glancing at the clock on the far wall, she continued, “He still hasn't met with us, but in theory that won't matter. Aurora should be walking out of here and breathing free air within the next forty-eight hours. And in theory, we should both be able to be there for each other when the decisions come down.”
Rainbow looked skeptical.
“Yeah, don't count on that part,” she said. “There's a lot in this that even your lawyer can't control. But the important thing is, she's getting out of here.”
Sunrise nodded. “That's the theory.”
“And so are you.”
“No idea.”
The fly dipped down, buzzed around Rainbow's head. She shooed it away absentmindedly, then refocused on the young woman across from her. Finally, with a sigh, she looked down.
“So, anyway, I'm sorry,” Rainbow said to the table.
“What for?” Sunrise asked.
“For not coming to see you before now,” the blue girl replied. “I'm sorry.”
Sunrise smiled. “Hey, don't sweat it.”
“No, I'm gonna sweat it,” Rainbow Dash said. “At the very least, I think you deserve an explanation.”
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and forced herself to speak.
“See, back at the Fall Formal, Sunset did some... stuff. Is this being recorded?” she asked suddenly, looking around.
Sunrise shrugged. “I dunno. Probably?”
“Great. Okay. So, Sunny, she, um, had what we'll call... an experience," Rainbow said, a little uneasily. "Aaaand, people got hurt. Including her. But she'd been the Queen of all Bitchland for the last four years before then anyway. Driving friends apart, that kind of thing. So she didn't get a lot of sympathy at first.”
Sunrise nodded, staring. “Um, Rainbow...?”
“Yeah, yeah, there's a point,” Rainbow Dash assured her. “Trust me. See, when it all fell down, we were there to help. We didn't want to, exactly, but Princess Twilight was there to pull her out. And seeing her at her lowest, and then seeing Twilight – that Twilight – reach out to her... well, we kinda had to help, you know? Not like we were forced, but like we couldn't not help and still respect ourselves.
“And, pretty soon, we had to respect Sunny, too. Not that everything was forgotten, because it seriously wasn't. But, here was someone who had hit her lowest ebb, and then with a little help, she'd started rebuilding. And now, she's awesome. She's not just the kind of person you want for a friend, she's the kind you're proud to have as a friend. You know?”
Sunrise smiled. “Yeah. I know.”
Rainbow Dash sighed.
“Yeah, I know you do,” she said glumly. “Sunset faced her darkest shadows, her own inner demons, and ultimately she came out the other side. It was hard as hell, but she's stronger for it. More... I dunno, more her?”
Sunrise nodded her understanding.
“And then there was the whole Friendship Games thing,” Rainbow continued. “You know about that, right?”
“They gave me the Drop-Off Notes version,” Sunrise said.
“Yeah. So, Twilight was betrayed by her teacher. The person she should have been able to count on to keep her safe left Twilight alone to face her own demons, in the worst magical way possible.  
“And then, despite it all, Twilight did. She had help from Sunset, and it took time, but still, she fucking did. And she came out the other side a better Twilight than ever before! And when you see the two of them together, her and Sunny, it all just seems... right.”
Sunrise frowned slightly. Where was this heading?
“Then, we were getting ready to graduate, and suddenly there was you. And... um, what happened at the mall,” the blue girl said uncomfortably. “Suddenly, there the rest of us were, at our own crossroads. What would we do? Would we stop, and think? Take the moral high ground? Maybe, I dunno, actually listen to the one person who had always known what was right when the rest of us hadn't?”
She sighed miserably.
“And of course, the answer was no. Of course not. We did the exact opposite. We caught up with you at the park, and, well, you know the rest.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Sunrise said. “No blame. What's...”
“What I'm saying is, we fucked up,” Rainbow broke in quietly. “We failed. All of us but Fluttershy. We had the chance to face our own demons, and instead, we completely gave in to them. We failed.”
She swallowed, looking anywhere but at the young woman across from her.
“I failed,” she whispered. “I didn't face my demon self at all. I let it take over. And you almost paid the price.”
Sunrise frowned. “So, you're... I don't understand. Are you facing it now?”
Rainbow shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable. “I dunno. Maybe a little?”
Then, she sighed. “Mostly though, I'm just trying to not be an asshole. I mean, sure, you did what you did. But there's no way that my personal head trip is all your fault. Some of my resentment is about you,  and that's fine. But, a lot of it isn't. It's about me. And what should matter more than anything else is that you're doing the right thing now.
“So, really, the least I can do is back your play. Which, honestly, I should have been doing from the beginning. Especially since both Twilight and Sunset say you're okay. And I, um, I guess I thought you should know why I wasn't until now.”
Sunrise gave a slight smile. “Well, if it helps, I get it. And whatever the reason, I really appreciate your being here.”
Another awkward shrug. “No problem.”
“No, seriously. There are no words.”
“And seriously, no problem,” Rainbow Dash repeated, still not looking at her.  
Sunrise started to reach out to her, but the blue girl pulled away, shaking her head as she did.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“I just keep thinking about it, over and over,” Rainbow said miserably. “It won't stop. I mean, we almost... if Sunny had made a different call...”
The fly buzzed complex arcs between them, momentarily distracting the two women. Then it was gone again, its flight faintly audible as it rose towards the lights again.
“If Sunset had made a different call, I'd be dead now,” Sunrise said softly. “That's true. But I'd be just as dead if you hadn't shown up at all.”
Rainbow Dash stared as Sunrise looked away from her.
“I... never told this to anypony before,” Sunrise continued, crossing her arms protectively. “Anypony but Twilight. My Twilight. Even Luna doesn't know. But yeah, there was a reason I had the gun with me that night. I had a decision to make. And when you guys showed up, I'd... pretty much made up my mind.”
Rainbow sat back, still staring.
“Fucking hell,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” Sunrise agreed. “So, when you confronted me on the dock that night, along with everything else you guys did, you also saved my life.”
Rainbow Dash held her temples, elbows on the table, completely dumbfounded.
“Great. What am I supposed to do with that?” she asked.
Sunrise shrugged sympathetically. “Beats me.”
The fly circled downward from the ceiling, unevenly orbiting the various occupants of the room, prisoners, inmates, and guards.
Then, Rainbow Dash shook herself, She straightened up, saying, “You know what? Actually, right now I'm still trying to wrap my head around Aurora's mom. Has she seriously never visited her?”
Sunrise shook her head.
“As of this afternoon, not once,” she confirmed.
Rainbow Dash sat back in astonishment. She stared up at the clock on the opposing wall, the same model as the ones used in school. 
“Bitch,” she decided.
“Aurora doesn't seem to think so,” Sunrise shrugged. “Heck, she didn't even bring it up. I had to ask about it when I kept getting visitors and she didn't.”  
Wincing, she continued, “And then I got to come off like an elitist asshole about it. Which is exactly what Aurora needed right then, hearing me rant crap about her mom not being here for her.”
“Bitch's daughter not wanting her called out doesn't make her less a bitch.”
“Maybe not. And, yeah, I do kind of agree with you,” Sunrise admitted. “But at the same time, from what Aurora says, it's not her fault.”
Rainbow sneered. “Oh, what, she's too busy? For her daughter? I think she can make the fucking time!”
“No, it's not like that, either,” Sunrise sighed. “Aurora doesn't like talking about it, and I get that. But in here, there isn't much else for us to do but talk. So, I kinda get the impression that Aurora's had to be the adult in their relationship for a long time.”
Rainbow gave her a look that clearly said, WTF?
“Well, okay, not exactly,” Sunrise said. She let out a breath, trying not to seethe, and ran a hand along her mohawk, smoothing it back in place. “Obviously, her mom makes the money and sets the rules, right? But at the end of the day, she's just... I dunno. She's still the parent, but--”
“Then why the fuck isn't she here for her fucking daughter?” Rainbow hissed, completely outraged.
“Because she can't be,” Sunrise said through gritted teeth. 
“How?!?”
“I don't know!” Sunrise snapped. 
Behind her, the guard beside the inner door stepped away from the wall, clearing his throat. Sunrise turned where she sat, giving a palms-out gesture of placation. The guard gave her a warning nod and returned to his place, leaning against the painted concrete and surveying his surroundings. Sunrise turned back to face Rainbow Dash.
“She's not too busy, or too far away, or any of that!” Sunrise hissed. “For whatever reason, she apparently cannot make herself drive fifteen minutes to a detention center, walk through metal detectors surrounded by armed guards, sit down with her little girl, and deal with the fact that said little girl is in jail, is staying in jail, and might spend years or even decades in prison. She is literally incapable of giving her only daughter the support she needs when she needs it most. And, somehow, Aurora just... accepts that!”
Rainbow Dash stared.
“And with no other family around, that left Aurora ass-out and isolated,” Sunrise finished bitterly, crossing her arms as she did. “Her friends don't have cars and can't get their folks to drive them here, so they write letters. Of course, the powers-that-be 'forgot' to give them to Aurora until I got here and told you guys, and you started making a fuss. But she's getting them now, so, yeah, that's something at least. Which, thanks for that, too.
“But her mom?” Sunrise shook her head. “The one person who should have been there for her through thick and thin, no matter what? Total. Fucking. Silence. All of which is somehow, according to Aurora, not her mom's fault.”
Rainbow Dash took a moment and tried to imagine her own parents just... abandoning her like that. Or having a kid of her own, and then just... leaving her alone in a cage, regardless of what she was accused of. Finally, she just sat back again.
“Okay, I get that Aurora loves her mom,” she said at last, her hands forming into fists. “But at the end of the day that doesn't change anything. Sorry, but everybody loves their mom, that doesn't mean Mommy isn't still an iron-clad bitch.”
Leaning forward, her voice grew in intensity as she jabbed a finger at Sunrise, saying, “I don't care what she thinks is going on in her life, it's not a fucking excuse. If she really wanted to be here, she'd fucking be here! She'd find a way! She... she...”
Rainbow Dash trailed off, then blinked.  
“Wow,” she said. “That did sound elitist.”
“Yeah,” Sunrise sighed, holding her head in one hand. “It did when I said it, too.”
For a time, neither of them spoke. Then, almost simultaneously, they slumped back in their chairs. They stared upwards, each letting out a long, slow breath.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
“Great,” Rainbow Dash muttered to the ceiling. “Now I'm the asshole.”
“Yup,” Sunrise said. “Join the club.”
More silence.
“Maybe... hell, I dunno, maybe she's got anxiety,” Rainbow Dash said at last. “Like, crippling anxiety. And the meds just can't cut it for this.”
“Chronic depression, maybe,” Sunrise nodded sagely. “Undiagnosed and untreated.”
“PTSD,” Rainbow suggested. “Something to do with jail, or losing a kid, or something.”
“Would that do it? I've never studied PTSD.”
“Dunno. Never studied psych.”
Again, they lapsed into silence.
Finally, Sunrise spoke again, still contemplating the ceiling tiles.
“Are we... really trying to armchair diagnose someone we've never met, just to feel better about ourselves?” she asked in the most contemplative of tones. “Mind you, I'm not judging. I'm just curious.”
“I dunno,” Rainbow said again, also still contemplating. “Maybe we're just trying to respond intellectually to something that's easy to condemn emotionally. You know, using compassion and understanding and...” She waved her hand vaguely. “...stuff.”
“Oh, yeah. I like that,” Sunrise mused in the same tone. “Especially the 'stuff' part. Gives us the moral high ground.”
“Yep,” Rainbow confirmed. “Moral high ground, that's us.”
“Love and understanding,” Sunrise said.
“Power of friendship,” Rainbow Dash added.
“Also, not being assholes,” Sunrise pointed out.
“Exactly,” Rainbow said. “This is us, not being assholes.”
“Look at us go.”
“Yep.”
Once more, they fell into silence. The fly buzzed around them a few times. It landed on the table between them, zig-zagged on its surface for a moment, and then took off again, buzzing its way to another part of the large room.
Finally, with a sigh, Rainbow Dash looked down again.
“So, anyway, I'm sorry,” Rainbow said to the table.
“What for?” Sunrise asked, still staring upwards.
“For hating you,” the blue girl sighed. “I don't anymore, but I did. And I'm sorry for what we tried to do. You didn't deserve it, but that didn't stop me from...”
She swallowed, and concluded, “Well, anyway. I was wrong. And, I'm sorry.”
“Hey, don't sweat it,” Sunrise said, looking away. “I kind of hate me, too.”
By this time, the fly was bothering the guard beside the door leading out. The uniformed man was obviously trying and failing to ignore it as it buzzed repeatedly around him.  
“That's... fucked up,” Rainbow said at last. “No offense.”
Suddenly, the guard slapped his hand against the wall, killing the fly instantly. Then his eyes returned to monitoring the room, impassive as always.
Sunrise looked around herself, then back to Rainbow.
“None taken.” she said. “There's not much about this that isn't.”