//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: Bad Jokes and Blind Mares // by bahatumay //------------------------------// It was a bright morning in Ponyville. The sun was high in the sky, there were a few fluffy clouds that Fluffy Clouds was carefully placing to add a little variety, and a gentle breeze gently swayed the leaves on the trees. Lightning Dust, however, didn’t see any of this. She was in a hospital bed, with fresh bandages on her head, wings, and her left foreleg. And if the doctors were right, she’d be stuck in here with them for a long, long while. Maybe even the whole summer! She huffed irritably. This wasn’t her fault. It really felt like the world was out to get her. “This literally can’t get any worse,” she grumbled. And then she heard the sound of somepony playing a violin outside.  She let out a low groan. Great. She just had to say it. She clamped her pillow over her ears as best she could with one foreleg, but it didn’t help much.  And it just kept going. And going. And going! Didn’t they ever get tired? Finally, she had had enough. She gingerly climbed out of bed, trying to make sure she didn’t bump the IV in her foreleg, and made her way over to the window. It had been cracked open, which was probably why it was so loud, but her patience was gone, and she had no desire for diplomacy, so she yanked it up and shouted, “Hey! Knock it off!” The violin music stopped. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Keep it down! Some of us are trying to sleep in here!” There was a brief pause.  And right as Lightning was about to internally declare victory, the violinist started playing a new song, one she recognized as one of Coloratura’s songs after her rebrand, when she dropped ‘Countess’ from her name and started doing more of those lame ballads.  I’m My Own Mare (So You Can’t Control Me). Lightning let out a frustrated cry and reached for the window to slam it shut. It took a couple tries, but it was a very satisfying slam afterwards. She tottered back to her bed and instinctively flared her wings to hop on, only to cry out in pain. With gritted teeth, she climbed up, more slowly this time, hoping she wasn’t twisting her IV, and tried to get some rest.  She heard the door open. “Hey, Doc, any news?” she asked, trying to not sound too eager. “It’s Nursery Rhyme, and I’m afraid not, Miss Lightning. I’m here to take another set of vitals.” Lightning sighed heavily and tried to relax as the nurse checked the equipment. “You sure you didn’t hear anything?” she tried. “I was there for your intake,” she said gently. “Your injuries were substantial. Your body has to heal on its own, and that will take time,” she emphasized. “I’ve been here for, like, a week now,” Lightning Dust protested. “You were admitted this morning,” Nursery Rhyme said flatly. “Ugh. I hate waiting. I live life in the fast lane. Leap before you look, that’s what I always say.” “I think that line of thinking is what got you into this predicament in the first place,” Nursery Rhyme observed dryly.  Lightning Dust stuck her tongue out in her general direction and wished she had a more biting retort on tap. “Anyway, you’re looking stable. I’ll be back in a couple hours to check again.” Lightning groaned.  “Oh, chin up. Dinner will be served soon.” Lightning Dust groaned again, already dreading it. The food here was bland and tasteless. She remembered the last time the Washouts went out to eat. Short Fuse had gotten a bottle of hot sauce billing itself as the hottest in all Equestria. It had been a fierce competition, and had burned both ways, but it had been a blast. They’d gotten Short Fuse all riled up so much they’d goaded him into drinking the sauce straight, it had been hilarious. She wondered what they were up to now. And if they’d even noticed her being gone. The door opened, and Lightning quickly sat up. “Hey, Doc,” she started.  “Still no update,” came the voice of Redheart, “but you’ll be the first to know when we do.” Lightning huffed.  “We’re having to shuffle patients around, so you’re getting a new roommate.” “Lucky me,” Lightning groused. She listened as her new neighbor made their way in, probably pushed on a wheelchair. It didn’t sound like she had too many personal items. Lightning tuned out the pleasantries exchanged with whoever had brought her here, and she was content to pretend she didn’t exist.  Until she heard the gentle plucking of strings.  “Ah, ponyfeathers,” Lightning swore, sitting up to face her. “You’re the musician.” “Well, if it isn’t my number one fan,” she returned airily. Her voice had a gentle accent Lightning couldn’t place.  “You’re not going to play that in here, right?” “I might,” she said airily. “Music is healing, you know.” “Right,” Lightning said sarcastically. “So, how did a nice mare like you wind up in a place like this?” “Pride,” she said wryly. “I was practicing for a family reunion and was standing on top of a stack of hay bales. I thought, yeah, I can balance. Maybe I could, but the stack couldn’t. Did save my violin, though,” she added, with a small hint of pride.  “Priorities,” Lightning Dust said flatly.  “Oh, yeah? Something tells me you didn’t get those bandages saving foals from a cragodile,” she sniped back.  Lightning Dust suppressed a snarl. “I was practicing a mind-blowing stunt. You ever heard of the Washouts? Yeah. That’s me. Doing mindblowing, sock-blasting stunts the Wonderbolts won’t dare to do.” “Maybe they don’t dare because they don’t like hospitals.” “Oh, not you too,” she groaned. “It would have been fine. Just got hit with a sneaker breeze. Million to one chance. Nopony could have seen it coming.” “Something tells me the Wonderbolts plan for those one in a million chances.” “Shows what you know,” Lightning scoffed, even though she knew she was right. “How long are you stuck here?” “I’m mostly here for observation. Didn’t just land on my leg wrong, I hit a rusty nail.” She chuckled. “You know, before they moved me here, they said you weren’t a chatty one.” “I figured if I keep you talking, you won’t start playing.” She huffed, as if affronted. “Do you really hate music that much?” “Just violins. String instruments in general. Boring! Give me some heavy, overdrive guitar any day. Something awesome.” She chuckled amusedly. “I think you just haven’t heard me play.” “Oh, I’ve heard enough,” Lightning said firmly. “You just walking in? That was enough.” “Oh. So you thought I was treble when I walked in.” She giggled expectantly.  Lightning didn’t respond.  “Treble,” she repeated. “It’s a music joke.”  “Oh, I got it. It just wasn’t funny.” “Oh, is that so? Well, I’ve got more. What do you get if you drop a piano down a mine shaft?” “I’m sure you’ll tell me in a second.” “A flat minor.” Lightning groaned. “This is torture.” “I get better! Why did the pianist keep banging her head on the keyboard?” “Ugh.” “She was trying to play by ear.” Lightning pulled the pillow over her head again. Lightning almost felt joy when the door opened again for another round of vitals.  Her neighbor went first, and it was quick. “This is looking good,” the nurse said. (Blackheart? Probably Something-heart. Having ‘heart’ in your name almost guaranteed a career in medicine, Lightning thought). “You shouldn’t need to stay too much longer.” Lightning Dust sat up expectantly.  She noticed. “Are you hoping I’ll say the same thing to you?” “Maybe,” Lightning said as airily as she could.  “You’ll be waiting a bit longer for that, I’m afraid,” she said as she checked her blood pressure. “Still nothing, and won’t be for a while.” “Don’t sugarcoat it, Doc, give it to me straight,” Lightning said sarcastically under her breath. Dinner was brought by at its usual time. Her neighbor waited until the door was closed, then lifted the tray. Lightning could hear her take a small bite, then stick her tongue out. “Blegh. I’ve cooked better food when I was delirious with the pony pox,” she said.  “Bland and tasteless, huh? What is it this time, green paste or brown paste?” “Brown. What, can’t you see?” “No, I can’t,” Lightning emphasized, pointing at the bandages on her eyes. “I hit a rock when I crashed. My wing will be back in a day or two. My leg a little longer. But my eyes…” Her voice trailed off. “I need those to fly,” she added. She’d get her sight back. She knew it. “Hmm,” she said softly.  “What?” Lightning demanded.  “That’s why you keep asking, isn’t it?” “So?” “Sorry, just… trying to imagine the possibility of losing something that important to me.” She worked her foreleg around, clearly imagining what it would be like if she couldn’t play.  “Yeah,” Lightning said, feeling oddly vindicated that she understood the magnitude of what she was facing, but she didn’t want to admit that, so she lapsed into silence.  It continued for a little longer until her neighbor finally broke it. “You know, I still don’t know your name. I’m Fiddlesticks.” “Lightning Dust. I’ll get you an autograph. Gonna be worth stacks of bits one day.” She chuckled lightly. “You’re pretty confident of that.” “Yeah. As soon as I get out of here, get my eyes and leg and wings fixed up, I’ll be out there, blasting Wonderbolts out of the sky. For legal reasons I need to emphasize that that is a metaphor only.” Fiddlesticks giggled. “Say, that reminds me. How do you fix a broken brass instrument?” “Don’t. Don’t you d-” “With a tuba glue.” Lightning groaned and let her head hit the pillow again. Lightning woke up to the sound of ponies moving and what sounded like a wheelchair rolling around. She knew it wasn’t for her, so that left one option. “Checking out already?” “Sure am. Tests came back negative and my leg is healing, so I can get out of here. Just have to take things slower for a bit. I’m sure that’s a foreign concept to you.” Lightning barked a laugh. “Yeah it is. I’ll be out and flying again in no time.” “Do you know when they’re going to take those off?” “No, why?” “Well, see, now I’m invested. I wanna know how your story ends.” Her voice turned almost devious. “So I’ll be back to check up on you now and again.” “I really wish you wouldn’t,” Lightning said honestly.  Lightning could hear the smirk in her voice. “And that is a big part of why I’m doing it. See you soon, Lightning Dust.” Lightning stuck her tongue out in her general direction and wished once again she had a sharper retort.  She paused at the door. “Why did the singer buy a ladder?” Lightning grunted. “Don’t tell me. Seriously, don’t.” “So she could reach the high notes.” Lightning tried to maintain her scowl, but she did crack a small smile against her will.