//------------------------------// // Rebirth // Story: A Happy Accident // by ScriptScrolls //------------------------------// Rebirth ~~~~~~~~~~ A Happy Accident By ScriptScrolls ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Fluttershy...” he said in almost a whisper, but not for the sake of his release. A few hooves away, the yellow pegasus stood staring at them. Braeburn turned around and smiled bashfully, hoping his rough-housing hadn’t bothered the young mare. Almost immediately, Fluttershy took off in a gallop, tears streaming from her eyes as she ran. While his friend became utterly shocked by this display, it only managed to depress Caramel. With a sigh, he resumed trotting towards Sweet Apple Acres once more, only to feel the sharp sting of his tail being tugged. “Ow! What in Celestia’s name--” “Shut it!” Braeburn snapped. “Now y'all better explain jus’ what in the hay that was all about--startin’ at the beginnin’.” The brown-maned stallion grumbled, but went on to describe the morning and previous day's transpirations. Braeburn listened quietly, occasionally nodding his head or saying something to the effect of, “Awww! You li’l Roameo, you!” and giving ‘Mel a thorough nuggie. Eventually, Caramel told him how he had pushed Fluttershy away and that her recent breakdown was a result of what he had said. “Why in Equestria would yah say something like that to her?! You’re practically head over hooves for the filly!” “I-... I know. I just don’t want to hurt her.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fluttershy’s canter back to the cottage gradually quickened into a gallop as a downpour emerged from the Everfree’s edge. As she ran through the muddy path leading to her front door, her right ear caught the faint sound of... crying? She turned towards the source, scanning for any sign of a pony but could see no one. The noise seemed to be emanating from the chicken coop. The yellow pegasus cautiously approached the small pen, taking care not to reveal herself just yet. Fluttershy lowered her head and peered through the small opening. In the dark of the coop, she could faintly observe the outline of a small, shivering pegasus. Suddenly, the lightening flashed, revealing the filly's orange coat and purple mane, and causing both pegasi to gasp. “Scootaloo?” Fluttershy questioned, her voice full of disbelief. “I-I can explain! I-I-I...” Scootaloo's voice was shaking from the cold and her own sobs. “I was p-pretending to be a chicken! Y-yeah, that's it!” Fluttershy cast aside her sorry attempts at fabrication. “Please come inside; you’ll catch something awful out here!” The soaked filly crawled out of the coop, shaking off stray chicken feathers as she did so. She followed Fluttershy into the cottage, feeling a wave of warm air wash over her. “Stay right here; I'm going to fetch you a towel!” The mare said frantically as she galloped up the stairs. She returned with a towel in hoof and immediately began rubbing Scootaloo's torso with it. The young pegasus just sat still, frowning at the trouble she was causing Fluttershy. “Oh Celestia, you're freezing!” Fluttershy softly exclaimed as she touched Scootaloo's chest with a hoof. “I’ll make a bigger fire.” She left the towel draped around the filly and cantered away. As Fluttershy went to add more wood to the fire, a small rabbit hopped down the stairs. He frowned immediately at the filly, remembering her as one of the three who caused his owner so much strife. As he looked longer, however, his gaze began to soften. The filly before him did not wreak havoc and destruction as she had before; she just sat there--shivering with cold and misery. Even Angel could not remain cross with her as she appeared. Fluttershy came back to the filly and extended a wing to her, using it to guide her towards the fire. Scootaloo semi-consciously obliged. She sat down directly in front of the blazing logs as Fluttershy stretched her wing behind the filly's back, using it to reflect back as much heat to Scootaloo as she could. “Scootaloo,” Fluttershy questioned in little more than a whisper, “why were you in there?” Scootaloo took several deep breaths, trying desperately to calm herself. She had caused this pony enough problems today; the last thing she wanted was to break down right in front of her. “Scootaloo?” the pegasus asked again, awaiting a response. “I-I was playing outside, and it started raining,” she replied softly, desperately hoping Fluttershy would not question her further. The mare closed her wing around Scootaloo and pulled her closer. “It’s okay,” she said. “You can tell me the truth.” Scootaloo lost it. Sobs began to shake her body as a constant flow of tears slipped down her face. Fluttershy put her hoof around the filly and pressed her head gently into the mare’s shoulder. With her other hoof, she gently stroked Scootaloo’s mane. “Shh, it’s going to be okay” Fluttershy whispered. The filly’s convulsive weeping continued for a few minutes until she ran out breath and tears. “I-I’m sorry,” Scootaloo croaked, the sobs having robbed much of her voice. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” Fluttershy assured her. “Do you want to talk about it?” Scootaloo nodded into the mare’s shoulder and sniffed. “I don't h-have a house. I usually just sleep in the clubhouse, but Applejack's been getting suspicious about rodents all over the farm. Sh-she almost found me this morning.” “Why would you be worried about that? Applejack's a nice pony; she wouldn’t--” “It's the nice ponies that make me more worried,”Scootaloo interjected. Fluttershy responded with a confused expression. “Why?” “Because they're the ones who'll try to ‘help.’” “Don't you want help?” “No!" Scootaloo snapped, her wings flaring aggressively. She quickly realized her mistake and recoiled. “I'm s-sorry, I just... I just don't want to go back.” “Go back where?” Fluttershy asked, eager to know what had this poor filly so frightened. “Tartarus...” she grumbled back. ~ Hospitals, with thin walls and thinner mental filters are a breeding ground for far more than just disease. Thus, it came as little surprise to Dr. Stable that the team had already heard of his son's morning visit. The stares he had received all day were unnerving, but his own colleagues' erratic behaviors were proving far too much for him to handle... especially given the day's earlier events. “Alright, I think it's time to call it in. Everypony have a good night." Aside from the mildly polite manner in which he said it, this statement might have been completely normal for the doctor. That is, if it weren't only half past one. Stable leaving for home early remained almost unheard of, but this nearly caused his entire staff of doctors to faint where they stood. He quickly shuffled out the door before any of them could utter any useless words of sympathy. Many were staring as he pushed through the halls, and his brisk trot soon became a nervous canter. Suddenly, a nurse walked out of an adjacent door and right into Dr. Stable's path. “Horsefeathers.” Unfortunately, his muttered expletive did little to prevent the imminent collision. Several exclamations later, the two ponies began picking themselves back up, groaning as they did so. “I’m so sorry,” the nurse said after she had brought herself upright. Dr. Stable looked at her with a stern expression before noticing that before him stood the same young mare who had brought in his son. The realization that she had just been on top of him, as well as the general embarrassment of the situation, caused his face to flush violently. Stable stood up as fast as possible, if only to allow gravity a chance to equalize the blood apportionment. “N-nonsense,” the stallion said as he placed an apologetic hoof on Redheart’s shoulder. “I wasn’t paying attention to where--” “Doctor!” she interjected, grabbing his hoof from her shoulder. “You’re bleeding!” Stable examined the hoof, turning it to see the thin laceration on the outer side. He glanced down and located the culprit: a bloodied scalpel which now lay on the floor and not in the biohazard container Ms. Redheart had been carrying. “Oh my gosh...” she whispered. “You need treatment, now!” The nurse grabbed his good hoof and rushed him down the hall. Before Dr. Stable could even begin to make an objection, she dragged him into a clinic room and hastily reached for the rubbing alcohol. “Sorry about this,” she said before dousing his hoof with the disinfectant. The stallion’s yelp made her wince slightly before she wrapped a clean towel around the wound. “Sorry!” she pleaded yet again, hoping he wasn’t more than seriously frustrated with her. Nurse Redheart removed the towel and began bandaging his hoof, sealing the cover with a small piece of medical tape. The doctor inspected the work and nodded in satisfaction. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me! This is all my fault, and now you might be infected with whatever was on that scalpel! It could be anything! Oh my Celestia, you might die because of me! I--” Redheart’s nervous breakdown was interrupted by a well-placed hoof. “Whoa, calm down, Red!” he said calmly. “I’m sure I’m just fine. You cleaned the cut well, so I think it’s okay for me to go home now.” Dr. Stable moved towards the door, but the nurse intercepted him. “Oh no, you don’t! You’re staying here while I run tests on that scalpel.” Stable now wore an expression of complete amazement. Almost nopony ever told him what to do, let alone a nurse. As he huffed and prepared a rebuttal, another nurse walked in, holding the reddened blade cautiously. Nurse Redheart took the scalpel and placed it in a thick plastic box. She handed the box back to the other nurse. “Take this to Scopes and tell him to check for everything. Viruses, bacteria, parasites, microscopic animals and plants, nano-dinosaurs, the works--I want no stone unturned.” “But that will take at least the rest of the day! Ther--” The light blue mare began before being abruptly cut off. “Then I guess you better get it to him quickly,” Redheart replied simply. The younger nurse nodded and cantered out the door. “Really, Redheart, this is ridiculous! You disinfected the wound sufficiently. I highly doubt there’s any chance of me being contaminated.” The white mare did not respond; she merely looked at him--looked at him with her large sky-colored eyes. Dr. Stable could see only one thing in them: panic--pure, hysterical panic. Her stoic expression, try as it may, could not mask the nurse’s apprehension. “... But, if it makes you feel better, I suppose I could spend the night in the hospital.” The corners of Nurse Redheart’s mouth curled up, and the concern in her eyes seemed to subside. “Thank you,” she said softly. ~ “W-where?” Fluttershy asked again, confused by the filly’s cryptic response. “The Cloudsdale City Orphanage,” she explained. “I... I never knew my parents.” “Oh Scootaloo,” the mare lamented, “I’m so sorry.” Fluttershy wrapped both hooves around Scootaloo and held her tightly. ‘Every filly needs a parent. This isn’t right,’ she thought. “It’s fine,” she lied. “Cloudsdale was founded by warriors, so orphans don’t have it so bad... most of the time.” Fluttershy could imagine why. With so many children losing one or both parents during wartime, keeping orphans healthy and strong would be a necessity. “I was actually pretty happy before they started making us go to school. Most of the other foals at the orphanage were my friends.” Scootaloo chuckled slightly. “That’s until they got to know me, I guess.” “Scootaloo, don’t say that. You’re a wonderful filly,” Fluttershy scolded. The little pegasus shook her head. “No, I’m not, but that’s not what I meant. One of the foals in my class recognized my name. My parents were both members of the Loo clan who unfortunately don’t have a good reputation in Cloudsdale... They were the ones who turned in that first battle of the Lunar Rebellion. Most of the pegasi who fought for Celestia were massacred because they had enemies on both sides. After the rebellion was put down, most of the Cloudsdale pegasi wanted the whole clan executed for treason, but Celestia wouldn’t have it.” The yellow pegasus was beginning to understand. “So the other foals in your school...” “B-beat me. Every day, at least one would start it by pointing me out as a traitor or an oathbreaker. Th-then the rest would join in... Anypony who tried to help me was punished.” “Didn’t the teachers do anything?!” Fluttershy asked, astounded something this vile could go unnoticed. Scootaloo snarled slightly. “They were conveniently nowhere around when it happened. They’re officially supposed to strictly punish any violence between students, but without parents to threaten them, I was pretty short on options.” “But you only came to Ponyville three years ago. Why did you stay so long?” “I thought I could handle it,” Scootaloo explained. “I was getting stronger, and their beatings were starting to have less of an effect on me. I also had one friend in that school: another Loo clanspony. She always helped me with my injuries and stuff...” “She sounds like a kind pony,” Fluttershy said, trying her best to focus on the positive. “Sh-she was,” Scootaloo whispered. “One day, I went looking for her after school got out. I didn’t s-see her anywhere, but then they came... These two colts grabbed my legs and a third knocked me out with a bottle. When I woke up, I saw her st-strapped to a table. She had bruises e-everywhere, even her f-flanks.” Tears began to stream down the filly’s cheeks. “They m-made me watch... One of them put a b-branding iron on the stove... Sh-she screamed so loud it h-hurt.” Fluttershy’s stomach was threatening to expel all its contents. The sheer barbarism shook her to her very core, reminding her too much of her own assailants. “Th-they cut her neck,” she whispered. “Her eyes went dark.” Scootaloo began openly sobbing, clinging to the elder mare as her body writhed in emotional toil. How the filly had carried such a burden for so long was beyond Fluttershy who also now weeped, though she did so silently. “Sh-shh, sshh, i-it's okay...” It was not okay. It was perhaps the farthest thing from okay. Scootaloo had been hurt, scarred in ways that would traumatize ponies years older. Yet, all the while she managed to wear this shell of a jubilant, little pegasus. It suddenly occurred to Fluttershy that for perhaps the first time in the filly’s life, she had a shoulder to cry on. Even though the mare’s foalhood had its own emotionally damaging moments, she never had to face them alone. Her parents had always shown her support, and Rainbow Dash proved her loyalty time and time again. Scootaloo... Scootaloo had nopony. That needed to change. “I, um, want you to stay here for a while, okay? Y-you’ll be safe here,” Fluttershy said, wrapping her other wing around the filly. Scootaloo pulled her damp face away from the yellow mare’s shoulder and glanced up. “I-I’ve caused enough t-trouble today. Besides, the rain is letting up.” “Please,” she whispered. The young filly shifted anxiously. “Just... don’t tell anypony I-I’m here... I d-don’t want to go back.” Fluttershy breathed a small sigh or relief and said softly, “I promise you, Scootaloo, you will never have to go back.” A small voice in the back of her mind began ranting about just what exactly that promise may entail, but she cast such thoughts aside. The implications of keeping said promise did not matter in the least to her at this moment. Scootaloo needed somepony to put her first, and that reality alone filled Fluttershy’s mind and heart. ~ ~ ~ Dr. Stable’s light snores echoed throughout the small care room, disharmoniously interweaving with the soft hum of the building’s air conditioning. The percussive plick, plick, plick of the intravenous drip remained the sole disturber of the overture, each drop like a small cannon in the white mare’s ears. She had attempted thrice to count the drips in time with the silent analog clock hung high up on the opposite wall, but to no avail. Any and all attempts to distract herself failed to keep her thoughts off the adjacent stallion. ‘He might die,’ she thought, shaking her head. ‘And it would be all my fault.’ Despite this, Redheart knew she had been acting unprofessionally regarding the entire ordeal. She had made worse mistakes in the past, but the nurse had never panicked as she now did, but why? Perhaps the doctor’s position as the best diagnostician world-wide held some weight to her. Maybe her realization that he remained Caramel’s last piece of family left caused her to act so rashly before. Tartarus, his almost identical face and... form had been tugging at her emotions as well. Yet no, it was the stallion in and of himself that spurred her behavior so. The past few hours aside, Nurse Redheart had always thought him a bitter man--bitter for no purpose other than some deep cynical nature. His curtness and occasional malice had reached even her now and again, and she seldom ever visited the large hospital. To know the true cause for his demeanor, however, brought yet more silent tears to her eyes. In her mind, she had made him a monster, as did everypony else. The nurse’s body began shaking as she wept. ‘I am the real monster,’ she mentally whispered. ‘I, along with the rest of them, judged without perception.’ To think that he may die as well, as a result of her carelessness, caused her whimpers to crescendo into small wails of despair. Redheart cast her pride aside, allowing her hysteria to take control completely. An unexpected pressure on the back of her neck caused the nurse to jolt. “Shh,” a deep voice whispered from aside. “It's alright, Red. Everything will be fine.” She blushed slightly, both at the nickname and being caught crying like a foal. Dr. Stable began running his hoof through the back of the nurse's mane, completely enraptured with the softness of her bright pink hair. The repetitive stroking calmed her slightly, and her breathing returned to a steady rate. With the continuous sedating effect of Stable's hoof, she found her eyelids increasing in weight. Nurse Redheart leaned her side against the bed, allowing her head to rest on the soft mattress. “Why don't you go get some sleep?” he suggested in little over a whisper. “I promise I won't try escaping while you're gone,” he teased. “It's fine. I'm not tir-” Redheart's defense failed, her rambling falling into an unexpected yawn. Her face turned a deeper shade of scarlet as she placed a hoof over her mouth. “Besides, Dr. Scopes is probably close to finishing his tests by now.” “If he has any sense, he’s sleeping at his house and making his interns do them,” Stable retorted with a chuckle. “Sense? If I found out he left a hospital doctor’s tests to his pupils, he’ll be lucky to have any of his senses left,” the nurse replied, unable to keep a straight face and giggling tiresomely. “You need to sleep,” the doctor repeated. Redheart responded with a half-hearted groan. her eyes already closed. “Come,” he said, nudging her as he moved over on the bed. “There’s more than enough room on here, and if you sleep like that, you’re going to wake up incredibly sore.” The nurse slowly picked her head up from the blanket and turned to Stable. He patted the space next to him on the mattress, causing more blood to rush to her face. Nurse Redheart slowly climbed onto the pale blue blanket and curled herself into a ball. “Y-you can use the blanket as well,” he stuttered, his own cheeks reddening as he lifted the sheets. The nurse wordlessly wedged into the fabric pocket, noting the heat and pleasant musk as she did so. She could feel her heartbeat throbbing in her temples as her face turned beet red. ‘This seems professional,’ Nurse Redheart inwardly chided as she laid her head on the pillow. ‘Sleeping with a patient... in the hospital.’ She looked across, watching the faint outline of the stallion next to her. Every long, steady breath he took acted like a small sedative, calming the nurse and weighing down her already heavy eyelids. Dr. Stable remained awake until the telltale whistley breathing of a sleeping mare filled the room. A truth dawned on him. Every other pony in the hospital who had expressed concern for him only did so because of his position and what it meant to the lives of patients. This nurse, however... her actions did not represent a calculated assessment of his worth nor a fear of punishment for the mishap. No, Nurse Redheart had behaved somewhat erratically--her deeds spurred by frantic worry and desperate passion. This pony, a mare he barely knew, remained perhaps the only pony who legitimately cared for him, besides possibly his son. As the doctor’s eyes began to close, a single hope remained in his mind: the hope that she would be there when he woke up--tomorrow and every day after. ~ Fluttershy trotted carefully out of the kitchen, holding one steaming bowl in her hoof and another in her mouth. She set the former in front of Scootaloo who had been pre-occupied with tracing the lines in the tablecloth with a hoof. The filly glanced up at her as she sat down with her own bowl. “Uhm, I just made some vegetable-barley soup for us. I-I’m sorry I don’t have much else at the moment, but I’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Scootaloo could hardly believe her ears. This mare had presented her a hot meal and apologizing for it. “No, this is fine--more than fine, actually! Last time I got a good meal was at Bloom’s house.” Applejack had been kind enough to whip up a few pies for the fillies while they slept over, and, needless to say, the little pegasus ate them ravenously. Scootaloo took the spoon and began shoveling soup into mouth, her mind doing backflips as the hearty flavor overwhelmed her senses “How do you get away with not eating lunch?” Fluttershy asked, perplexed. “Surely Cherilee should have noticed by now.” The filly, much to her stomach’s dismay, ceased eating the soup and averted her eyes by looking down at the floor. The older pegasus recognized Scootaloo must feel ashamed about the answer, whatever it was, so she had best wait for the filly to admit it herself. Eventually she responded, “I-I bring an empty lunch box, and Bloom and Sweetie give me a little of theirs--just a little, though! Just enough so Ms. Cherilee sees I have food.” Fluttershy felt stunned. “So they know?!” she exclaimed loudly (well, loudly by her standards). “They were going to tell a grown-up when they found out, but I made them Pinkie-Pie-Swear not to... Bloom was really upset about it.” Such seemed logical; the Apple family had a reputation for honesty, and tarnishing that likely didn’t sit well with the youngest. “Scootaloo,” the mare said, voice gentle but very stern, “I’m disappointed in you. You forced your friends into a very difficult moral dilemma.” Scootaloo sniffed. “I-I know...” “I’m sorry. You didn’t want to do that to your friends, and I know that. You didn’t have much choice in your situation.” The orange pegasus smiled slightly at the sympathy. “You really should eat now,” Fluttershy insisted, “It’s already after midnight , and you need your rest.” The two ate in silence for the remainder of the meal, too mentally exhausted for further speech. After scraping the bowl clean, Scootaloo leaned back in her seat, patting her stomach with a contented expression which said, “Mission accomplished!” The filly failed to suppress a yawn and lifted a hoof to her bagged eyes and rubbed them. Fluttershy giggled softly. “Sounds like it’s a little filly’s bedtime.” “I’m not little,” Scootaloo grumbled, unwilling to address the primary point of the mare’s statement. “O-oh, of course not,” Fluttershy responded in a voice of sore contrition. A frown crossed the filly’s face as she witnessed the result of her malcontent. “I-uh... okay, maybe I’m a bit small,” she conceded. The yellow pegasus smiled at her knowingly. “But just a little bit!” she reaffirmed. “Just a little bit little?” Fluttershy teased. The filly scowled as best she could while so exhausted, forcing her host to stifle a giggle. “Come on, let’s get you to sleep.” Scootaloo trotted alongside Fluttershy, following her up to the guest room. “Don’t worry, the sheets have been cleaned since the tree sap incident,” the mare assured her, causing her guest to scratch the the back of her head with embarrassment. “Thank you,” Scootaloo said as she climbed onto the bed, “for everything.” She lifted the covers and slid under them. Fluttershy trotted over to her and began re-tucking the bed sheets until they were taught. “You’re very welcome,” she said with a smile, “and you always will be welcome here. Okay?” Scootaloo nodded. “Good night, Scootaloo,” said the mare as she trotted out of the room. “Good night,” the filly quietly spoke as Fluttershy shut the door, “...mom.”