//------------------------------// // Chapter Twenty-Six // Story: Salvation // by Sandstorm Inkwell //------------------------------// “Pipsqueak?” Said colt slowly opened his eyes to look up at me. Seeing that I was hovering above him, he gave a small smile and an equally small laugh. “Hi Scootaloo.” I felt myself be moved to the side before being set on the floor. I was still looking at the colt, “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Well,” he scuffs the floor with a forehoof, “I came here to see if you alright since Miss Cheerilee told you to go home and you were crying and stuff. Then, when I opened the door, I saw you begin to fall so I thought that I would break your fall.” A soft blush came to his cheeks. Is he embarrassed that he tried to help me? I could feel a blush on my cheeks but that was because he had seen me crying and seen my failure with my wings. “Hey Pip? Think you can not tell anypony about the falling thing?” I ask. He looks surprised as he nods his head, “Yeah, no problem.” A silence comes upon us. I see that Pipsqueak is just poking at the floor with a hoof. Looking around, I notice that Twilight went back into the kitchen and Spike went... somewhere. “So,” Pip starts. I look at him and I see him stutter somewhat. What's up with him? “Are you okay?” “I'm fine,” I answer, “Never could be better.” It was a lie. A blatant, obvious lie. I watch as Pipsqueak takes a step towards me. “You sure?” I nod my head. I can feel the emotions welling up inside me again but I hold them back, “I'm sure.” “Because,” he pauses again, taking another step towards me and sitting down. I look at him fully. His spots were unnatural but seemed to fit him perfectly. As did the red bandanna tied around his neck, “I can listen if you want. I'm really good at that.” I feel the pressure of the emotions building and feel my eyes growing misty. “Stop!” I shout, “I'm fine, alright?” Stomping my hoof, I rush past him and to the stairs. I hear him calling out for me to wait but I'm up the stairs quickly. Rushing into Twilight's room, I toss myself onto her bed and curl up on it. Wrapping my tail around myself, I let the tears come again. Why? I ask myself, Why is he acting like that? I was fine until he came and started trying to get me to talk about it! Not able to think of an answer, I bury my face into my tail and let the tears wash over my face. /--\ We had returned to the camp with the security team like I had promised. Instantly upon returning, one of the Corpsman requested I remove my vest so he could study the stab wound. No matter my protests, he persisted. So, now I was sitting on the berm with Jones sitting next to me, my vest laying beside me, and my blouse open. “You're lucky. It didn't seem to go too deep. Just a little bandaging to keep it from getting infected and you'll be good to go,” the Corpsman explains as he stops probing the wound and starts to pull out said bandages. “So,” I start, releasing my clenched teeth, “how long have they been attacking y'all here?” “About two days after we showed up. We had made contact with the ponies here and were beginning to figure out long-term plans when the insurgents hit the town. We drove them back with one of ours wounded but, luckily, none of the ponies were hit. Shaken but not hit,” he explains as he proceeds to wrap my wound. “And that's when you started building the berms?” “Damn straight. We didn't like being out in the open so we started on the berms. Of course, the ponies didn't really like it all too much. That's when most started leaving. Only ones here now are the mayor and a few who would rather die than leave their homes.” I nod my head as the Corpsman finishes wrapping the small stab wound. When he's done, he glances at Jones. “Is he gonna be alright?” “I'll be fine,” Jones replied with some irritation in his voice. I wouldn't want to be talked about like I wasn't there either. “Alright,” the Corpsman replies, putting both hands up, palms out. He then lowered his hands, “Don't go getting hurt now,” he says before walking off. “Jackass,” Jones mutters. I laugh and pat Jones on the shoulder before standing and fixing my uniform. Slipping back on my vest (and helmet), I look to Jones and motion farther into camp. “Come on. Let's see if we can't find Sarge and them.” Jones looks around before getting to his feet. Taking that as an 'Alright', I begin to walk into the actual camp. I suspected that the tents belonged to either the Marines or the French guys. Jones is quick to come alongside me and I see that he's already scanning the camp for the rest of our squad. “Hey man?” I nudge him in the arm to make sure I'll get his attention. “Yeah?” he looks over at me, generally confused. “I know what you said to the Corpsman but,” I pause, “Are you alright?” I watch as he looks at the ground, “I... I don't know, man. I've never really seen someone like that up close. It was always via video or from afar. That, and when the insurgent stabbed you, I started freaking out. My first though was: 'Holy shit, he's dead.'. Then the second thought came along: 'How will I tell Scoots and Twilight?'.” That struck me hard. I haven't really thought about them since the firefight started and maybe not since arriving at camp even. That life, that... happiness just feels so far away now. Like a good dream lost in a nightmare. “It kinda screwed me up, man. I think I'll be fine though. Just gotta... process it all I guess,” Jones finished. I look at him and nod, “Alright man. Long as you don't go batshit, I'll leave ya be and make sure everyone else does the same.” “Thanks,” he replies with a chuckle and a light punch to my shoulder. I chuckle back before go back to looking around. Looking toward the vehicles, I see none other than Kilborn waving us to him. “There they are,” I announce to Jones before jogging over to Kilborn, Jones trailing behind. “There you two are,” he begins when we get to him, “Where have you been?” “Sorry Sarge. We got stuck on the Truck Salvaging Detail,” I reply. A look of understanding crosses his face as he looks to the smoke cloud coming up from the other side of the berm. “Oh. Well,” he faces us and nods, “glad you made it back.” I nod back before looking around and noticing something, “Where's Smiley and Gonz?” “Escorting our guest to the stockade,” Kilborn answers with a malicious grin. Jones and me chuckle. “What now Sarge?” Jones asks. Kilborn's grin disappears as he looks around at the camp. Finally, he shrugs, “Find a place to dig a hole to call home, I guess.” “Seems reasonable,” I reply sarcastically. Kilborn rolls his eyes, “Just cause you grew soft sleeping in that bed doesn't mean you're not going to sleep on the dirt with the rest of us.” “Understood Sergeant.” “Right, well,” he looks up at the sky and the fast setting sun, “we better get started if we want to be set up before nightfall.” I groan before moving to the Humvee to get our Entrenching Tools. I wonder what Scootaloo's doing right now. /--\ Crying. I don't like it and I never have. Makes me look weak. I hate looking weak. A timid voice speaks from near the top of the stairs, “Scootaloo?” “Go away Pipsqueak!” I shout through my tears. “I'm sorry Scootaloo,” I hear him say, “I shouldn't have kept asking.” I remain silent, willing him to go away. After about half a minute, I finally hear receding hoofsteps. Another half a minute passes before I hear Twilight's voice at the bottom of the stairs, “Pipsqueak? What's wrong?” I can't hear Pip's answer but not for lack of trying. What's wrong with him? “Oh, okay,” I hear Twilight answer to whatever Pip said, “well, I'm sure she'll be better tomorrow. Goodbye Pip.” The door opens and closes. I let out a small sigh as the tears slow. “I'm so confused,” I mumble quietly as I try to curl myself tighter. I must have reached my limit because my eyelids begin to feel heavy as I lay there. I'll just rest for a little bit, I tell myself as I close my eyes. Quickly, I feel myself being whisked away to the land of dreams.