//------------------------------//
// Scootaloo, what the hell? 
// Story: Scootaloo Lost a Leg (and failed to mention it to anybody until now) 
// by Cxcd 
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“Scootaloo! Hurry up, it’s almost time for school!”
Scootaloo grunted heavily. Her face was entirely covered by a plush pillow as she only saw her blackened world. With something resembling a marionette on strings, Scootaloo forced her arms to splay to the side, lazily rolling herself over under her covers.
She creaked an eye open and looked up to her bedroom ceiling. It was still dark out, the only light shining through the slit under the door frame. The rapidly approaching winter break couldn’t seem to arrive soon enough, she thought.
Realizing nothing productive would get solved laying here, Scootaloo threw an arm to the side, kicking off the blanket in quite possibly the most low-effort way possible. Her head weighed all of a thousand bricks as the slowly rolled her spine upwards and into a sitting position.
Scootaloo ran her fingers through her fuzzy shoulder-length purple hair. Letting out a sigh, she looked down. She wiggled her left foot’s toes underneath the sock as she extended the leg straight out. On her other leg, well- she didn’t have much to show for it.
When she was eight, she had an accident. A pretty big accident. She couldn’t remember much of anything during that time period. Maybe she hit her head too hard. Maybe she didn’t want to remember it. Or- hell, she might’ve even been sleeping during it. She really had no idea. Point is- when she was eight, she lost her right leg below the knee. It was the same accident that took her parents, and completely changed the trajectory of her life.
Scootaloo grabbed a gray plastic appendage leaning against her bed frame. Next to that on the table, she grabbed a specially designed sock. After a few minutes of blindly fumbling in the dark, combined with seven years worth of experience, she expertly latched on the plastic prosthetic to her unfortunate ending point. Slowly, she stood up. It had happened once or twice before where her leg had randomly slid off because she had forgotten to check it. God forbid it ever happen in school. She did a few quick stress tests, involving leaning from side to side, light kicking, and a few small hops to test that the leg was on tight.
Tight it was. It was always a slightly uncomfortable pressure pushing onto her thigh. Enough to keep her awake during math class, that is. Maybe that meant it was time to get a new prosthetic. It didn’t bother her as much as it annoyed her, so it felt fine for now.
She covered the plastic surface with a pair of green cargo jeans, completely hiding away the plastic surface. Now, it was time to properly start her day.
She hated questions. Actually- to phrase it better, she hated most questions. She loved questions like ‘what do you want on your ice-cream?’ or, 'Do you want to go to the skate park?' No, she hated questions along the lines of test questions, poking and prodding her brain for any information that she had spectacularly failed to retain. Those were school questions. What was even a level above school questions was questions about her leg.
During her brief visit and subsequent recovery time in the hospital, it had seemed there were always nurses or doctors poking in every ten seconds to check to make sure she hadn’t died right there from the deathly amounts of embarrassment. Every doctor she had ever met post-accident treated her like a fragile glass vase, when in reality she was more a-kin to a reinforced steel vase. Or- a medical-grade gray plastic vase. At least, she thought so.
As Scootaloo began brushing her teeth, she internally cringed at the multiple times she had to lie to her friends regarding her leg. Her best friends in the whole world. She had lied to her best friends. It seemed dumb, really, but she couldn’t risk her best friends treating her like a limbless baby. Well- actually- never mind. The questions started out innocent enough.
“Hey, Scoots, why’re you limping like that?”
“Oh- Uhh, I sprained my ankle last week. That’s why I was gone from School. Sorry.”
Or...
“Hey Scootaloo. Are you having problems with your foot? It isn’t really bending.”
“Well, I heard you can run faster if you keep your foot locked in one place!”
“Did Rainbow Dash tell you that?”
“Uh-huh!”
Eventually, with enough time and excuses, it seemed like her two friends mostly ignored her weird limping. At sleepovers, she always changed clothes away from the group, with her leg firmly in place. It would be a disaster if someone woke up in the middle of a night to a Scootaloo with a missing leg. Unfortunately, this meant waking up with an itchy leg. Having the prosthetic on all night was not something she did regularly, and her skin complained right back at her. It was a fair trade, she bargained.
After putting away the toothbrush and checking herself in the mirror, she exited the bathroom and entered the kitchen.
“Hey, Sis.” Scootaloo greeted, taking a seat at the table and crossing her forearms. Her sister, a twenty-eight year old teacher, stopped typing away on her computer as she greeted her sister back.
“Hello, Scootaloo.” She said with a smile, her voice betraying her tiredness. “I’m surprised you woke up so easily. I thought I’d have to bang a pot and pan together to wake you up. Again.” She rubbed her eyes, turned back to her computer and began typing again. Scootaloo shrugged, getting up and starting to pour herself a bowl of cereal.
She owed her sister a lot. Ever since their accident, her sister had to pick up the fallen pieces of her life and try to return a sense of normalcy, even it normalcy was subjective. That meant rushing through college, getting a job as the librarian at their high school, and trying to fight off crushing medical debt from a limbless sister. Although she might have been the same age as all the other students in the school at the time, the students understood her situation and treated her with respect.
The school was very lenient on giving her a job as the librarian while she finished college.
“And… Done!” She said with a smile, finally closing the computer. “Finished grading the student’s mid-term finals.” She cracked her knuckles.
“Really?” Scootaloo asked through a mouthful of ‘Pegasus Flakes.’ “Cuttin’ it close?”
“Yes.” She laughed. Scootaloo couldn't help but notice the bags her light pink skin created under her eyes. It seemed her darker pink hair couldn't stay down straight, as it looked like she was currently touching a static electricity ball. “I stayed up pretty late last night getting these done. You’re lucky you don’t have me as a teacher… this year.”
“Oh, whatever… Miss Cheerilee.” Scootaloo remarked sarcastically.
“Miss is right.” Cheerilee said, sliding her computer into a black computer bag. “Miss sounds proper, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, right.” Scootaloo scoffed, putting the bowl away in the sink. “Don’t make me call you Miss when I get you for a teacher. Actually- can you not give me and my friends homework?”
“I don’t give out homework.” Cheerilee laughed. “Ask Cranky why he gives out homework, because I don’t have the faintest clue.”
“Cranky?” Scootaloo asked, walking out the door with a backpack on her shoulders. “Who’s Cranky?”
“Mr. Doodle.”
“Doodle’s first name is Cranky?” Scootaloo exclaimed, opening the car door of the white four-door hatchback in the driveway. “Jeesh. Talk about unfortunate names.”
“Really?” Cheerilee asked, putting her hand on the passenger’s seat, looking over her shoulder as she backed the vehicle up. “Because last time I looked, Scootaloo isn’t on your birth certificate,”
“Don’t-”
“Scooter Wheel Blazer Jr.”
“Oh my god.” Scootaloo sunk deeper into the fabric coverings of the seat, her legs hitting the dash and half making a meaty thump, the other half making a metallic clink. “You promised me not to mention that name again.”
“I have to use it every time I get you into the doctor’s office.” She smiled. “Plus, what’s so wrong with- pfft- Scooter Wheel Blazer Jr?”
“I hate you.” She stated simply, crossing her arms. Cheerilee’s only response was a little chuckle.









“And that’s the bell, kids.” Mr. Doodle said, setting what appeared to be an open binder on his desk as the old man turned away from the chalk board. “Don’t forget, your chapter 4 homework is due tomorrow.” He rasped out. With a groan over the friendly reminder, everybody got up from their desks and ran out of the classroom. Scootaloo waited in her desk just for a few moments longer than everybody else.
Not- that it was difficult for her to get out of her desk and stand up with kids crowding around. Don’t get that idea! She just- preferred to walk without a hundred kids barreling her over. Was that such a crime? Cause for a capital punishment? No, she said. So, when most the kids left the class, she got to her feet and left the class respectfully under the scrutinizing gaze of Mr. 'Homework' who probably wanted to start his early nap.
2nd hour. Most schools call it something weird. Canterlot High being no different. It was called HH hour. Homework Help. About thirty minutes dedicated to just doing homework, or any other work due in other classes. For Scootaloo and her… unique condition, she unfortunately had to miss out on gym. It wasn’t like she couldn’t do it. It was just the fact she cut a deal with the principal to skip out on gym this year in exchange for still doing the tests. Scootaloo was eternally surprised that the principals were so lenient with her.
Usually during HH hour, she would group up with her friends and go hang out in the library with her sister. This one, she had to do the pacer test. She felt bad for leaving her friends without telling them, but knowing them, they would want to follow her to gym to watch. Which she couldn't let happen. At least it wasn’t the pencil-to-paper tests she hated. This one was running. Which- in all fairness, wasn’t terrible. She was athletic and loved using her scooter, despite having a handicap.
Handicap. She hated that word. So what if she was missing her leg? She wasn’t disabled or underprivileged or- any other word that involves the logo of a blue person sitting on a wheelchair. She was entirely independent. She’s gone this long without revealing to her friends her unfortunate situation. What’s the rest of her life hiding the secret?
She pushed those thoughts away as she arrived at the gym doors. Inside, it was empty, all for except one white and blonde coach named Bulk Biceps. For this, she was grateful. The less people that know, the better. And so far, she is fairly confident the list of people who know about her secret go: Principal Celestia, Vice Principal Luna, Cheerilee, the few doctors and nurses she met at the hospital, and Bulk Biceps.
“Scootaloo!” Bulk Biceps yelled across the gym. “C’mon! Double time! We got a test to run, girl!”
“Right!” She yelled back, sprinting off to the locker room. This was going to be a piece of cake.









This was not a piece of cake. As a matter of fact, this was the least appetizing piece of cake in the entire world. It had bits of grass in it, maybe a little dirt… the eggs were bad… somehow the flour was rotten. Case in point, Scootaloo was having a hard time catching her breath as she put her hands on her knees and leaned forwards.
“An even one-hundred!” Bulk yelled, watching as Scootaloo practically collapsed on the floor, laying down and staring up at the ceiling. “I am impressed.” He stated simply, marking her name down on a list of some kind clasped to a clipboard. “For most kids, that’s an impossible feat. I’m impressed you managed it with that thing strapped to your leg.”
Somewhat humiliatingly, Bulk kicked her fake leg to- dunno, prove his point better?
“T-han-ks.” She said between breaths. “Wh- What did I need for an A?”
“Oh, a thirty.”
“Thirty?!” She yelled, sitting up quickly. “I went to a hundred for nothing?” Suddenly, she felt lightheaded. She laid down again.
“Not for nuthin’.” He shrugged. “C’mon. You’re one of the top ten.” He let his clip board fall to his side as he began walking away, towards the boys locker room. “You got ten minutes till’ the bell rings. Make the best of it!”
Instead of moving, Scootaloo kept staring up at the ceiling, letting her thoughts entertain her for the last ten minutes of class, or until she decided to change back into her casual clothes. As she started counting the rivets in the vents on the ceiling, she imagined what would happen if gravity suddenly switched. Would she survive a drop the height of the gym? Probably not. Maybe if she bent her knees. Or- better yet, land on her prosthetic and bend her knees. Let the plastic take the brunt of the impact. Then again, that roof looked pretty spiky. What was the chance she would hit a beam on the way down?
Why was it so hot in here? She didn't just feel like a sweat-bag from running, but it seemed even the air itself was on fire. Oh. The huge ceiling fans aren’t spinning. How much did those things cost? A couple grand? Instead of buying new computers for the library? Did the school board not understand how difficult it was to get Doors XP to load Youhoof? Long story short, it involves downgrading FireHorse down several decades, then patching it forwards. Don’t ask her how she figured that one out. Mainly because she didn’t. Her friend, Sweetie Belle did. She was the smart one of their group.
These are but a few of the thoughts that went through the young girl’s mind. Don’t ask for more, because the other half of her thoughts involved complaining about the immense amount of torture she just went through by running to a hundred.
“Scoots?”
If she was drinking water, there was a good chance it would’ve become immediately dislodged from her throat and all across the floor in front of her. Instead she made a sudden, sharp exhale as she bolted upright, sitting with her back towards the gym doors.
Problem number one: That voice was the voice of her best friend Applebloom. That also meant there was a very good chance Sweetie Belle was-
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
There Sweetie Belle was. Problem number two: in order to participate in Gym class, one was not allowed to wear casual clothing. Which, in all honesty, made a lot of sense. Having to run in shirts not explicitly designed for optimal airflow, in layman's terms, sucked balls. And then having to parade around in said shirt for the rest of the school day? After it was soaked with sweat? No thank you.
Unfortunately for Scootaloo, that proposed another problem. Problem number two-point-five: She was wearing shorts. Highly unusual for her. She wasn’t even sure if her friends had ever even seen her calves- or calf- before. However, wearing shorts also involved exposing her fake leg. Which, in turn, exposed her. Which, in turn-turn, would make her friends laugh at her, or- or, make them treat her like a fragile baby, or expose her secret to the whole school!
Scootaloo looked down. There was a chance her friends could see her leg! She quickly crossed her human leg, then tucked her robotic leg close to her body. This was, quite possibly, the last chance she ever had to fit in normally. She had to play this better than any actor she'd seen on TV. Action time.
“H-Heey guys!” Scootaloo squeaked. In order to convince your best friends ever that nothing was wrong, make sure you do not crack your voice, as Scootaloo had just demonstrated spectacularly.
“We were jus’ wonerin’ where ya’ll went.” Applebloom spoke with her thick country accent. “Left us a mite confused. You never leave us’ hangin’.”
“W-Well, I had a pacer test today!” Scootaloo defended, looking over her shoulder and into the doorway where the two girls stood. “Missed pacer last time, had to make it up!”
Applebloom was a pale yellow with bright red hair. “Okay, jus’ making sure.” She nodded. She wore something similar to a farmers getup, with a big pink bow in her hair. For one that lived on a farm, she put a suspicious amount of effort into keeping the bow pristine. Maybe she just had a whole closet filled with them.
“Why are you sitting like that?” Sweetie Belle, the ever-so-observant one asked. Her skin was completely white, her hair being made up of two-toned pink and purple with little frilly curls on the ends.
“Sitting like what?” Scootaloo sputtered. “I’m not sitting like anything!”
“Huh?” Applebloom asked, suddenly realizing the panic tone in her voice. “Everythin’ okay there?”
“Yup!” Scootaloo shouted. “Just tired from running the pacer! Haha!”
The silence that resounded was astounding. It was like somebody had just hit mute on the music of a large party, and now nobody knew what else to say. Sweetie Belle folded her arms condescendingly as Applebloom put her hands on her hips… also condescendingly.
“Scootaloo, what’s wrong?” Sweetie said slowly. Scootaloo swallowed.
“N-Nothing!” She lied. “Just- go away, please?”
“Not until you tell us what’s wrong first.” She said. Scootaloo felt angry at herself for making such great friends.
“Go away?” Applebloom repeated. “Why, Ah’ don’t think so.” Scootaloo’s worst fear came to fruition. Applebloom began walking forwards, towards Scootaloo. Her heartbeat quickened as her breathing increased in speed. She inhaled and exhaled even quicker than when she ran a hundred laps, as this was more strenuous than anything she had done up to this point. Loosing a leg was less nerve wracking as watching your best friend dismantle everything you had spent time on building up. Seven years worth of time building.
Applebloom was now half-way towards her. She was going to treat her like a baby. She would have to move away. Her sister wouldn’t want to move. Maybe she should run away instead. To a new state. Like Ohio. Actually- not Ohio. Not only was it far away, but- c’mon. You can choose any state, and you chose Ohio?
Applebloom was now three quarters the way.
Now an eighth away.
One sixteenth.
One thirty-
She was here.
Slowly, Scootaloo watched as her castle walls crumbled. Applebloom placed a hand on Scootaloo's shoulder and leaned forwards. She had a smug, almost knowing expression on her face as she leaned forwards. What she was expecting the issue to be was probably nothing like what Scootaloo was hiding. 
It took Applebloom a few moments. First, she looked at Scootaloo in the eyes with a questioning gaze. Then, she looked down towards her legs. She opened her mouth for a moment to say something witty or smart, but unfortunately, it seemed her farmer brain caught up to her as her eyes laid on the gray plastic poking out of Scootaloo's leg.
Applebloom's smug expression faded, leaving one with absolute and utter confusion as she took her hand off of Scootaloo's shoulder and walked infront of her to get a better view.
“What… in the… ever-loving… hell?” Applebloom enunciated as she stared down at her leg. “When the fuck did this happen?!”
“Crap.” Scootaloo said simply. Applebloom, surprisingly, took a small step backwards. As if she was scared the leg was going to bite her. That would’ve been awesome, though.
“What?” Sweetie asked, still by the door. “What’s wrong?” It took her significantly less time to cross the distance. By the time she did, however- “What the shit?”
“Scoots, when the fuck did you loose a leg?!” Applebloom exclaimed.
“Oh, a little while ago.” She tried to appear nonchalant as possible as she shrugged, even if her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. “I forgot to mention it, you know.”
“I know? I know?” Applebloom gestured vaguely towards the plastic appendage. “What the hell? You don’t just forget to mention- mention that you- Scootaloo, what the hell?”
“Sorry.”
“When did this happen?” Sweetie asked, repeating Applebloom’s question. It was nice to see her friends were so worried, but Scootaloo’s eyebrows only furrowed as she felt a pang of annoyance.
“I just answered that.”
“No, you didn’t.” Sweetie crossed her arms. Why was she getting mad? Scootaloo was the one without a leg. “When did this happen?”
Scootaloo huffed a little bit, slumping forwards in defeat. She ran fingers through her hair as she had a little internal debate. She didn’t want this to happen. Ever. She would have to flee- no, not state- country to create a new life far, far away from here. This not only was embarrassing, but absolutely humiliating and career destroying.
Since she had limited time left with her old life, she decided it was best to just come clean to her best friends.
“I lost it when my parent’s died.” She finally said. Two shocked gasps emitted from her friend’s mouth. Scootaloo laid a hand on her plastic leg, as if it would rejuvenate her memories. “I didn’t tell you this, but I wasn’t out of school because I was mourning my parents. I was out of school because I was in the hospital. I know… Super un-cool and all, but…” Scootaloo shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to find out…”
Surprisingly, Scootaloo felt a pressure on her neck from behind. For a split second, she wondered if Applebloom was going to choke slam her for failing to mention her leg issue. Not only was it Sweetie Belle, but she didn’t choke slam her. Instead, she gave her a fairly awkward, but also fairly nice hug.
“You’re such a doof.” Sweetie said, laughing as she broke the hug. “I can’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it, but- hiding it all together? Scoots, that accident was seven years ago. You’ve been hiding it for seven years.”
“Yeah, well-” Scootaloo started standing up. Infuriatingly, Applebloom was there to help her stand up too. Would’ve Applebloom helped her stand up normally? If she still had both legs? Whatever. Right now, she might as well admit to why she hid her leg. Applebloom let Scootaloo go so she could stand on her own, and joined Sweetie Belle’s side. Scootaloo took a deep breath. “I’m scared.” She admitted with her head held low.
“Scared? Bou’t what?” Applebloom tilted her head.
“Scared of being treated differently.” Scootaloo admitted. “I got on fine for seven years. Seven freaking years. I don’t- and I mean really don’t- want you guys to treat me funny for missing one of these!” She kicked her good leg out, pointing to it with both hands. “I- I know you, Applebloom, will probably hate me for lying about it.”
“Huh?” Applebloom asked. “Why specifically me?”
“Because. Isn’t your sister like, the ‘honesty’ superhero from another dimension, or something?”
“What? Nawh, not her.” Applebloom rolled her eyes. “Her double is. Look- we’re getting off topic. Point is-” Applebloom let out a sigh. “We ain’t gonna treat you different if you don’t want us to.”
And just like that, Scootaloo could practically feel her fears melt off of her shoulders as she stood there dumbly with a slack jaw. That’s right. No more jumping states and/or countries. No more hiding in fear and shame for the repercussions it might bring. No more- well, actually being on the run from your past sounds pretty cool. That was pretty disappointing. Besides that, Scootaloo shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“Wait- that’s just it?” She asked. Applebloom nodded. “You too, Sweetie?”
“Well… it’s going to be weird seeing you with a plastic leg.” She admitted. “But yeah, I can try.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The other two girls repeated in stereo.
…
“Well…” Scootaloo put her hands on her hips. “There goes seven years of hiding for nothing.”
The three exchanged some laughs. Scootaloo noticed their eyes continually drifting downwards and towards her leg. She still didn't like the extra attention.
Then, the questions came.
How does it feel? (you get used to it.) Does it hurt sometimes? (surprisingly, yes?) Do you get new sizes? (every year or so.) Is that why you walk funny? (I walk funny?) Can you mount a lazer cannon? (if I tried hard enough.)
The barrage of questions actually lasted long enough that before Scootaloo even realized it, she had redressed into her casual clothes, finished third and fourth hour, and was halfway through the lunch line when Sweetie asked a question that made her almost drop her tray.
“Are you ever gonna tell Rainbow?”
“Bu-wha?” Scootaloo turned to look at Sweetie, accidentally pouring herself more than a healthy serving of baked beans.
“I said, are you ever gonna tell Rainbow Dash?” Sweetie asked as they sat down at their usual table.
“I- I don’t know.” She admitted. Applebloom sat down next to Scootaloo with her own tray. “I’ve never thought about telling Rainbow. I don’t think she’ll be as cool about it.”
“What? Why the hay not?” Applebloom asked, poking at the meaty protrusion sticking out of her tray. She set the fork back down.
“Because, well-” Scootaloo shrugged. “I can’t really play sports. I mean- I know there are amputee sport players out there, but I could never get the hang of it. Plus, playing adaptive soccer seems really dehumanizing to me.”
“So- like AB said, why not?”
“Because Rainbow has been asking whether I want to play soccer for my entire freshman year!” Scootaloo exclaimed. “And I’ve been telling her, ‘Oh, one day, mighty Dash! I just might indulge!’” Sweetie deadpanned at the obvious impression of her own sister. “I can’t just tell her that I can’t! She’ll hate me!”
“Like how we thought we’d hate you?” Sweetie asked, raising an eyebrow.
“B-But this is different!” Scootaloo yelled. “Rainbow lives and breathes soccer! It’s like- her whole thing! She’ll be crushed! Crushed!”
“Crushed about what?”
…
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Slowly, Scootaloo turned around with the biggest forced smile she could. There, standing behind her with her own lunch tray was Rainbow-to-the-mother-loving-Dash.
Names are funny. Parent’s name their kids all the time, whether it be a cute nickname or their full, legal name. Scootaloo hated her legal name, but somehow, Rainbow’s parents nailed hers. She was called Rainbow for the most obvious reason in the world to anybody who wasn’t colorblind.
She had a head full of rainbow hair. Her skin was a sky-blue, and she wore athletic… everything. In short, Scootaloo thought she was awesome.
“H-Hi, Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo stammered. “Wh- What- Hi- What are you doing here?”
“Well, you guys do sit with us at lunch.” She said. “So I thought, you know, I'm going to sit where I always sit. At the table. Where I sit normally.” Rainbow sat down next to Scootaloo. It seemed the rest of the group wasn’t there just yet. “So. I happened to hear my name dropped a few times. No wonder, it’s Squirt.” She ruffled Scootaloo’s hair. “But what about me being crushed?”
“Nothing!” Scootaloo beamed. “Nothing is wrong! Nothing happened July 25th, 2006.”
…
“Wh- Okay-” Rainbow shook her head.
“Hay there, Dash.” A new voice said as Applejack sat down, Applebloom’s sister. “Bloom’. Scoots. Sweetie.” She greeted. If Scootaloo wasn’t going to tell Dash then, she sure as hell wasn’t going to now.
“Scoots…” Rainbow looked to Applejack, to which the blonde girl nodded in confirmation. Although Scootaloo had a tight connection with her two best friends, she didn’t think they could ever get on that level of communication. “If it’s something personal, we can talk about it later, if you want.”
This was it. The moment. Well- not the moment, but the moment to lead up to the moment. Now, she had to decide if she wanted to tell Rainbow her deepest, darkest secret. Well, second deepest darkest secret. The first one was under her mattress. (ha, you thought you were getting through a high-school short story without even a little mention of that- stuff? You thought wrong.)
Scootaloo took a deep breath.
“Okay.” She nodded.
“Meet me after practice?”
“Okay.” She nodded again.
And so- the date was set in stone. Rainbow started talking to Applejack as her friends filed in, and Scootaloo talked to her friends about anything other than her missing leg.
It was a little while later as the girls were exiting the lunch room when Scootaloo turned to them.
“Guys. I need a plan.”









Scootaloo felt nervous.
Real nervous.
She watched as Rainbow kicked the ball forwards, passing it to one of her teammates. She then ran all the way around the enemy team, paralleling the one she passed to. Then, with one big kick, Rainbow regained the ball, and then scored it. The person assigned to defending her didn't even stand a chance.
But Scootaloo didn’t even cheer for her. That’s how nervous she was.
When Applebloom and Sweetie found out, it wasn’t something she could control. It just randomly happened, and Scootaloo had to basically bite the bullet and deal with it. Here, well, she had a sense of preparation. A moral obligation to sit here and wait for the biggest moment of her life to be handed on a silver platter.
Well- maybe not biggest moment of her life. The biggest moment probably had to be being born. But she couldn’t remember that, so it didn’t really count.
A coach blew a whistle, and the entire game came to a screeching halt. Like clockwork, the two teams walked to the benches and began packing up. Since Rainbow practically lived in her athletic gear, her time to get ready was significantly shortened than everybody else's. Before Scootaloo knew it, Rainbow began scanning the seats for the orange girl.
And then she started walking towards said orange girl as she sat on the bottom rung of the bleachers.
Her heart rate quickened as Rainbow threw a backpack next to her, sitting down and taking a deep breath.
“So.” Rainbow said, finally. “Are you gay?”
“What?”
“I said, are you-”
“No. I’m not gay.” She half-lied. “It’s not- It’s something worse.”
“Worse?” She scoffed. “Nothing wrong with being-”
“That’s not what I meant.” Scootaloo snapped. She sighed. “Sorry, it’s just- it’s just real important to me. Applebloom and Sweetie accidentally figured it out, and- I guess it’s time I should tell you, too.”
“Alright, go for it. What’s so important?”
“It’s just that-”
Alright, Scootaloo. You’ve been waiting your whole life for this moment. Everything comes out. Just go for it. Just like it was rehearsed. Just like we rehearsed it.
“Actually-” Scootaloo started. “I think I got a rock in my sock. Can you hold my shoe?”
“What?” Rainbow asked, blinking dumbly. “I mean-” She looked around at the bleachers they were sitting on. Bleachers that had not another soul on it. Bleachers that could hold a shoe without it going anywhere. She shrugged. “I guess?”
“Alright, cool. Thanks.”
Rainbow watched curiously as Scootaloo reached down to her- to her knee, not shoe. She randomly started groping her knee below her pants leg in a strange fashion. Rainbow raised an eyebrow as she watched curiously.
Then, she twisted it in a painful-looking way.
Then, it came off.
…
Rainbow’s eyes slowly grew to the size of dinner plates as Scootaloo handed her a plastic leg. Dumbly, she grabbed the shoe part and stared at the gray plastic. She didn’t know when it happened, but Rainbow’s hands were up in a ‘don’t shoot’ fashion as one hand held the shoe like it was going to bite her, with just her index and thumb.
Scootaloo rolled up her now deflated pant leg and readjusted the sock covering her nub. Rainbow continued to watch as her jaw fell slack. Then, Scootaloo grabbed her leg back.
“Thanks.” Scootaloo said as she popped the leg back on, rolling back down her pants. Like nothing had happened.
…
“Rainbow? Are you okay?” Scootaloo asked. Rainbow suddenly sneezed, turning to look at Scootaloo as her stupor was unexpectedly broken.
It was a few more moments.
And a few more.
And then-
Rainbow started laughing. Hard. So hard, she felt her gut clench as she leaned forwards, letting out the loudest laugh she had in ages. It didn’t take long for Rainbow to suddenly find herself on the grass in front of the bleachers, rolling around as she tried her absolute hardest to calm herself down.
“That- was- awesome!” Rainbow exclaimed through heaves. “Are you kidding me?” Her laughs turned to sudden coughs. Then, the coughs turned back to laughing. Then coughing again. Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel relieved at her reaction. Then, Scootaloo started laughing with Rainbow.
“You’re kidding!” Rainbow yelled. “Are you actually missing your leg?”
“Yup.” Scootaloo admitted. Rainbow stopped rolling, and instead just laid flat on the ground, staring up at the sky.
“That’s crazy!” She yelled. “Is that why you won’t play soccer with me?”
“Also yup.”
“Oh my god.” Rainbow put a hand to her head. “I actually can’t believe it. You’re kidding.” Rainbow looked as Scootaloo shuffled on the edge of her vision. She rolled her pant leg back up to reveal the plastic appendage. “You’re not kidding.”
“You don’t think it’s- I dunno, uncool, or something?”
“Uncool, kiddo?” Rainbow sat up. “Uncool? You lost a leg! That’s like- awesome! And you got a cool robot limb to boot!” Scootaloo responded by laughing lightly.
“Yeah, guess it is pretty cool.” She said. “I dunno. I guess I thought you’d be hurt, or something.”
“I guess it’s a little disappointing that you can’t play soccer.” Rainbow admitted. “But like- now I know why, right? I felt even more disappointed when you kept dodging me for soccer. Kid, this makes up for it.”
“Yeah, well-” Suddenly, Rainbow clamped her hands to her cheeks. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Ohmygosh!” Rainbow yelled. “I have a cyborg sister!”
“Cyborg?”
“Cyborg! I gotta brag about this!” Rainbow suddenly stood up.
“Wait, no!” Scootaloo yelled. Rainbow came to a screeching halt, the grass aiding in her slipping forwards. She rebalanced herself and turned to look at Scootaloo. "Can we- I dunno- not tell the rest of the school?"
"Aw, why not?" Rainbow asked, almost dejectedly.
"Because..." Scootaloo smirked. "I have a better idea."
"Oh, really?"