Chapter Four
We’re Half-awake
Rainbow awoke to grunting. At first she thought it was simply sounds from a dream still playing in her ears, but no, soaring over the sea didn't call for grunts. Laughing? Definitely. Wind flowing through her mane? Sure. But not grunting.
Taking a quick breath, Rainbow raised herself off the pillow, and promptly fell back down into its embrace. Why did Rarity have to own such comfortable pillows? Nopony in their right mind would ever want to leave the things behind. Giving a grunt of her own, Rainbow turned her head to the side, placing her cheek on the pillow. The world around her was not quite as dark as she had guessed. She thought she would find herself staring at a swirling mass of shadows. Instead, she gazed upon a half-lit room and an abandoned pillow beside her.
Huh... was all she thought as she let her eyes slowly close once more. Sleep beckoned, but no matter how hard she clenched her eyelids, no matter how many sheep she counted, it escaped her. The light was far too bright, and the grunting refused to stop.
Her eyes flew open. A lightbulb went off in her head, blinding and scorching. She shot up in bed as though a bomb had just gone off right beside her ear. It might as well have. Her eyes darted to the bathroom door, hanging wide open, the light on and headache-inducingly bright; to Rarity leaning against the doorframe, shaking like a pony doused in ice water; to that stump, wriggling in the air as if there was still a full leg attached to it. In the blink of an eye Rainbow was out of bed.
“Rares,” she said, nearly breaking her neck tripping over the corner of Rarity’s too-large-for-its-own-good dresser as she rushed up beside her. Once she was sure she had regained her balance, Rainbow continued. “What’s going on? You alright?”
Rarity’s mane hung in disheveled waves across her shoulders and the scent of sweat trailed its way up Rainbow’s nostrils. Rarity refused to look at her, instead choosing to focus on the tiles before her. Rainbow eyed them. Nothing special, not even a speck of dust.
“Rares?” Rainbow repeated, taking a step closer. She lifted a foreleg, preparing to rest it upon Rarity’s back, but quickly thought better of it. Rarity was shaky enough; no doubt the added weight would make her buckle.
“I... Rainbow, go back to bed. Please.” Rarity’s words came out as if she was choking on them. “Please, just...” Her voice trailed off in a crackly whimper. Rainbow’s ears fell flat against her head as soon as the sound hit them.
“Rarity, what’s going on? Why are you—”
“I... I woke up... had to use the washroom... and I... I forgot...” She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Rainbow glanced back to the foot of the bed, to the to the prosthetic still lying on its side, sticking out like a torch.
“Did you try levitating it over to you?”
“Yes. I tried. My head’s too... it didn't work.”
“Don't worry, I’ll get it.” Rainbow turned to retrieve the prosthetic, but was stopped after only two steps.
“No,” Rarity said through gritted teeth.
Rainbow tilted her head back. It was her turn to groan. “But... come on, Rare. It’ll be easier if you just—”
“Nothing is easy,” Rarity spat. “I can make it on my own.” She took a step forward. For that one step, she was right, but walking only on one’s forelegs is a task reserved for the skilled, and Rarity was far from an Equestria Games-level gymnast. The second step was met with her nearly crumbling to the ground. Somehow, Rarity managed to land on her haunches rather gracefully instead of flat on her face. A lesser pony would have been fooled, would have thought that sitting down in the middle of the bathroom had been Rarity’s intention from the start, but Rainbow knew better.
Without a word, or acknowledging Rarity’s squeaks of protest, Rainbow inched her way over until their sides touched. Rarity shuddered, but the complaints stopped. Pushing her luck, Rainbow slowly unfurled her good wing and draped it over Rarity’s shoulders. She didn’t even quiver this time. When in doubt, wing, Rainbow thought, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. Works every time.
“Come on, Rare.” She stroked her back with her wing. “Lemme help you up.”
“Rainbow... I appreciate it. Really, I do, but... I can do this myself.”
“Too bad. I’m gonna help you anyway. Come on, let’s get you up.” Before Rarity could get another word in, Rainbow had tucked her wings under her belly and lifted her up. Once she had her up, Rainbow darted around to Rarity’s right side before she could even blink. As Rainbow expected, Rarity fell against her, but this time she at least had the most awesome leaning post in Equestria rather than some boring old door frame.
“Alright,” Rainbow said. “Move forward. I gotcha.”
They moved forward at a snail’s pace. By the time they reached the toilet, Rarity was gasping for air. Rainbow stole a glance at her. From her limp mane to the tip of her chin, Rarity was covered in sweat. She stared at the floor, shaking her head, squeezing her eyelids so tight that Rainbow could see the muscles twitching. Rainbow sighed and rubbed a hoof along her partner’s back. Then, without even a whisper, Rainbow stole a nuzzle at Rarity’s cheek, turned her around, and, using her wing as a third foreleg, helped her take a seat.
“You good?” Rainbow said, taking a step back. Rarity only nodded, but that was enough. “I’ll give you some privacy.” Like a flash, she was out of there, leaning against the bedroom wall, thumping her head against it.
It’s not right.
“Ain’t ever about right. Things happen, Rainbow.”
Rainbow shuddered. Between finding love, not flying in months, and dealing with the everyday trials of living with a handicapped marefriend, it was only fair that voices from her past were given the chance to spring up and kick her while she was down. Still, she really, really wished it hadn’t been his.
It was impossible to shake or beat memories away, but Rainbow tried nonetheless. She shook and thumped her head against the wall until the voice was but a faint echo of an echo. But it was still there, waiting to strike again.
Quit thinking about it.
Now that was a voice she could agree with. “You doing alright in there?” she called out.
“Fine,” Rarity said. A flush emitted from the room. “Just fine.”
“You want me to get your leg?”
“No. I’m going right back to bed anyway.” Rarity’s words were followed by the all too familiar clicks of hooves stumbling across tile. Rainbow Dash groaned.
“Rare, come on!” Rarity muttered something in response, but Rainbow couldn’t hear what. “I’m only trying to help here.”
Somewhere in the bathroom, Rarity huffed. “While I appreciate the offer, I can assure you that I have this handled, Rainbow Dash. I am perfectly capable of—waha!” There was a squeak and a smack. With a sigh, Rainbow left the comforts of the wall and entered the bathroom. Rarity lay splayed out on the floor, lower lip set in a pout. “Don’t laugh,” she mumbled.
“Wasn’t planning on it. You hurt?”
"No."
"Good. C’mon then... up you go.” Rainbow leaned down beside Rarity, unfurled her wing, and, with a single grunt, tossed her up onto her back.
Surprisingly, no protest came from Rarity, not a single annoyed sigh or whine of “I am a lady, not a bag. Put me down this instant, you ruffian!” Her chin fell against Rainbow’s ribs, her tail brushing along her flank. The only sound besides Rainbow’s hooves clicking against the floor was Rarity’s high, tremulous breathing.
It’s not right.
The walk back into the bedroom seemed to take forever, each step filled with stumbles and grunts. By the time they reached the bed, it was Rainbow who was breathing hard. Slowly, she placed Rarity in the bed, pulling the covers up to around her midsection before white hooves gripped them and pulled them all the way up to her chin.
Chuckling and wiping her sweat-drenched brow, Rainbow leaned down and gave Rarity a single peck on the cheek. In the past she would have gagged at the mere idea of doing such a thing. Now, it felt as right as anything. She pulled back, just enough to see a smile cross Rarity’s lips. Rainbow returned the favor.
“Still awake?” Rainbow asked.
A small chortle escaped Rarity’s lips. “As long as you keep running your mouth.”
“Heh, well... I’m gonna go take a walk. Get some fresh air, ya know?” Rainbow bit her lip and tapped her hoof against the mattress, a chorus of squeaks ringing out. It may have felt like a cloud, but it sure didn’t sound like one. “You gonna be alright?”
It was Rarity’s turn to run a hoof through her mane. “I think I’ll remember this time,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Dash. I don’t know what got into me. I just...” The sentence died with a drawn-out sigh.
“It’s cool, Rare,” Rainbow said. “Probably just so used to being without... yet with... and there’s some way I could probably say this but... bleh, words are your thing.”
“You’re a lot more eloquent than you give yourself credit for, Rainbow.”
“Now that, I know, is a load of crap.”
Rarity giggled. “Just in your own Rainbow-y way.”
“You’re nuts.” Rainbow Dash shook her head. Glancing out the window, she noticed the faintest sliver of red on the horizon. “So... you’re good?”
Rarity stretched her forelegs out over her head and yawned. “Yes. I think a good, long date with my beauty sleep is just what the doctor ordered.”
Letting out a short chuckle, Rainbow leaned down and gave Rarity another light peck, this time on the tip of her nose, eliciting a giggle. "I’ll see you this evening.”
“You’re spending the night again?”
“Of course!” Rainbow had to laugh at that. It’s been the same answer two weeks in a row, Rare. Get your act together. She cleared her throat, but her words still came out as a chuckle. “I practically live here now.”
Rarity frowned. “Rainbow, while I must admit that I love you being here as much as you have, I really do think you should spend a night in your own house every once in a while. Poor little Tank is probably up there right now, scared and starving and wondering where his best friend has run off to.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes and shot a smirk at her weary partner. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you’re trying to guilt me. Did you forget about the whole 'not flying' thing?” Rarity pouted, causing Rainbow’s smirk to widen into a full-on grin. “Nah, I've gotten a lift up to the ol' cloudhouse as often as I can. Spend a good hour there. Feed Tank, make sure he gets his daily fly in, even get the mail, though it’s mainly just coupons nowadays. And when I can't, Fluttershy goes up there to make sure everything's going good, so... yeah, I don’t think he’s ‘scared and starving.’ Unless a thunderstorm comes by. Still gotta teach that geezer to nut up when the storms blow by.”
Rarity let out a small giggle and nodded. “Choice is yours, Rainbow,” she said, words heavy with sleep.
“Wow, sentence fragments. Heh, you must really be beat.”
“Hmm... eh … lemmesleep.” Letting out one last high pitched sigh, Rarity turned over onto her side, wrapping the covers around her.
Rainbow snorted and ran a hoof along Rarity’s back. “Sure, sure. See you this evening.” With that, she tiphoofed to the door. The door proved squeaker than she had hoped, and she heard Rarity tossing in the sheets as the infernal hinges shrieked loud and proud, grating Rainbow’s ears until the click of the latch shut them off.
As she snuck her way down the hall, past Sweetie Belle’s room, downstairs,and out the door, only one thought crossed her mind—a thought that even the late fall breeze and waking birdsongs couldn’t drown out.
I need some coffee.
* * *
“... And I know that the sculpture wasn’t meant to be eaten, but, honestly, who makes a life-sized replica of Princess Celestia out of gingerbread and doesn’t expect somepony to eat it?”
Rainbow sighed and stared into her cup of way-too-sweet coffee. Sugarcube Corner was a fine place to go if she wanted a muffin or some other sugar-loaded pastry, but when it came to a decent cup of joe, they were way behind. Though the coffee was about as appetizing as a cup of nails, Pinkie more than made up for it. There was no way Dash could not be awake when that crazy pony was around.
“Which reminds me,” Pinkie continued without taking another breath, “of that time I got kicked out of the Biltmare House for trying to eat the cookies in their Hearth’s Warming trees. They should have been the ones kicked out: cookies are for eating, not for hanging on a tree!”
“Pinkie, those weren’t even real cookies, you know that right?”
“Yes they were. I know a cookie when I taste one, and those were definitely cookies.”
“Huh.” Rainbow broke eye contact with the creamer swirling in her coffee—to her, it looked surprisingly like a rabbit with a beard—and glanced around the Corner. Her sigh filled the room, bouncing off all the empty tables and chairs. Sugarcube Corner just wasn’t a morning place, she supposed. It was only her and Pinkie. A Pinkie whom was on her fifth cup of coffee since Dash had arrived.
Just perfect.
“So, Dashie,” Pinkie said over the rim of her pig-head mug, “what are you doing here so early?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Wanted some coffee. This place is way better on the coinpurse than the friggin' Spacebuckers or whatever that new place is they opened next to the sofa shop.”
“You just wanted coffee?” Pinkie continued to peer over her cup, watching Dash like a very creepy and smiley hawk. “Is that why I found you half passed out, face in your hooves on the doorstep before I even opened up shop?”
Rainbow snorted, taking a sip of her own lukewarm brew and forcing it down. She might as well have been drinking cough syrup. “Duh,” she managed to say between heavy swallows.
“What happened, Dashie?” Pinkie placed the porcelain pig on the table and leaned forward, getting way too close for comfort.
“Nothing happened. I—Jeez, Pinkie, a little space?” She pushed Pinkie’s nose off her own before she continued. “Haven’t you heard of breathing room?” Pinkie stared at her with wide, blank eyes. “Look, it’s nothing, I’m just—Alright, what?! Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“Still trying to figure out the ‘breathing room,’” Pinkie said, drumming a hoof on the countertop. “I’ve never heard of a ‘no breathing room,’ so what purpose could a ‘breathing room’ possibly serve?”
Rainbow’s head fell against the counter, causing Pinkie’s mug to jump off it. She caught it in her mouth and, leaning back, downed what little coffee was left. She laid it back down on the table with a loud “whoop!”
“You’re impossible,” Dash said, words muffled by sugar-stained wood.
“That’s a title I’ve never heard of.”
Rainbow grunted and lifted her head just enough that she could rest her chin on the tabletop. “Congratulations,” she said out the corner of her mouth, “I’ll send you a card.”
Pinkie giggled and patted Rainbow’s head. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Dashie.” Her hoof was swatted away by a flailing foreleg.
“Cut it out.” Rainbow slapped at her own head as though there was a spider in her mane. By the time she stopped, Pinkie had already pulled back and refilled that stupid pig cup of hers. Dash frowned. Six cups of coffee in six minutes, Celestia have mercy on us all.
“So,” Pinkie said, somehow clear through a mouthful of coffee, “how’s Rarity? You two lovebirds still swooning over each other.”
“I. Don’t. Swoon. Period.” Rainbow leaned back on the bench, though with her booth being cramped into the corner of the dining room, leaning back was more like a small tip of her chin. She ran a hoof through her mane, sighing all the way. “She’s... it depends on the day, really.”
To Rainbow’s surprise, Pinkie simply sat there, eyes focused on her, not a silly object or potential prank in sight.
“This morning was pretty rough,” Rainbow continued. “She... forgot about her leg, and, well when she tried to go to the bathroom...” Her head felt as though some tiny pony had burrowed its way in and started wailing on her skull with a sledgehammer. “Yeah.”
“That’s no fun.” It was the closest Rainbow had seen Pinkie come to outright frowning in a long time. “Though... that does remind me of something I’ve been working on recently!” Her almost-frown transformed into a near-maniacal grin.
Rainbow tried to burrow her hooves into her temples. “Oh dear goddesses, what?”
With a fanfare of kazoos coming from... somewhere, Pinkie pulled a large cannon-like object out of thin air and placed it on the table. She watched with a toothy smile as Rainbow took in the utterly confusing object laid out before her. It was exactly what it looked like: a cannon. Granted, it was less than half the size of a regular cannon, and it had a strap wrapped around its neck for some reason. Peering into its mouth, Rainbow found not a shaft of darkness, but hundreds of glints of light.
“What the hay is this?”
Pinkie reared back. “Can’t you tell? It’s obvious!”
Rainbow forced a smirk. “What you consider obvious is a dead language to ponies like me, Pinks.”
“Fine, fine. Ponies these days.” She pulled some eyeglasses and a large piece of posterboard out from underneath the table, then set the posterboard out on a tripod Rainbow was certain hadn’t been there a second before, then jammed her face right into the forest of curls that was her tail. She emerged with a long, metal pointer held firmly between her teeth.
A clearing of her throat that was way louder than it probably should have been, and Pinkie began her lesson.
“Okay,” she said, flinging her pointer at the first figure, a stick figure of a pony with a smiley face, heavily-styled squiggle mane, what looked like it could have been a dress, and a necklace that, had it been a real thing, would probably have broken the neck of whatever pony wore it. “This is Rarity before. Happy, wearing dresses and jewelry, completely fabulous.
“This, though”—she pointed to a figure next to it, one with a frown (even a single inky tear in the corner of one of its dot eyes), limper mane, no dress or weighty necklaces, and a bunch of smudges and shavings where Pinkie had erased this stick Rarity’s hind leg—”is Rarity now. Saddy waddy and far from fabulous.”
Rainbow blew out a stream of hot air. “I’m well aware of this, Pinkie. Now, get to the point.”
“I will not tolerate impatience and that attitude in my classroom, young miss,” Pinkie said in a frighteningly accurate old gray mare voice. However, great imitation ability didn't come packaged with acting ability, and Pinkie broke into giggles almost as soon as the last word left her mouth.
“So I began to ponder...” There were five words that, from Rainbow’s experience, had never led to a good thing. “How do I give Rarity that fabulousity back? I mean, you know as well as I do that an un-fabulous Rarity isn’t a happy Rarity.”
Rainbow let out yet another sigh, this one with a downward gaze rather than a furrowed brow. Pinkie was right on the money there.
“This is what I came up with!” Pinkie tapped the pointer against the cannon-like thing still laying on the table. “I call it the Fabulousity Cannon!”
Rainbow could hear her own brain breaking. “The... wait... alright, what now?”
“The Fabulousity Cannon!” Pinkie lifted up the contraption and spun it on a hoof as though she were showing off a prize at a game show. “See, Rarity straps it onto her leg... nub thingy... whatever you call it. It’s way prettier than your usual prosthetic, just look at these sequins!” Rainbow was unsure how she hadn’t noticed the glitter and gems and other bright thing that covered the cannon before now. “And not only does it give her fabulousity, it gives her the ability to giveth fabulousity!"
“Yeah,” said Rainbow. “Still lost.”
“Fine... an example then.” Pinkie took a deep breath, chest expanding so far it shook the table. “Let’s say Rarity is at some formal party, and there are all these ponies with dull dresses and suits and stuff. Totally unfabulous. So what does Rarity do? Boom!” Pinkie pulled a cord on the underside of the cannon, sending gemstones hurtling across the table. “Fabulousity, rookies!”
Rainbow glanced at the wall behind her. Dents lined the wall where the gems had hit. “So, lemme get this straight, Pinkie. You want Rarity to walk around on a cannon that she can use to shoot gemstones—gemstones—at other ponies?”
Pinkie scratched the back of her mane. “Well, I have to admit it does sound better in theory than on paper. It could benefit from some changes...” Suddenly, her eyes lit up like the Manehatten skyline. “Ooooooh, what about glitter?! Streamers?! Little sparkly beads?!”
“You can run those by her next time you go over there.” Rainbow chuckled. “Though I seriously doubt Rares is gonna be up for walking around on a stinkin’ cannon.”
“It smells wonderful, I promise,” said Pinkie.
“Whatever you say.”
"Why not have her come here?”
“Huh?”
“Rarity’s been real sad lately. I would be too if I were in her horseshoes. But, I was just thinking about how you could cheer her up. I thought this cannon-leg-thingy would work, but... you’re right. I don’t think Rarity would appreciate a gem shooter as much I do. A gem vacuum, maybe, but not a cannon. How much has she been outside since they let her out of the hospital?”
“Like... once or twice, I guess,” Rainbow said, fiddling with her forehooves. “I’m usually not there a lot of the time, you know work and all that, but she did go out back one night last week to get one of her gowns off the clothesline. Heh, I’d forgotten it was out there, and it was a Saturday. Yeah, she was pretty upset at me over that. Don’t know why. It’s a friggin’ nightgown, not the robe of a princess or something.”
Pinkie tapped her chin. “Maybe if she went outside she wouldn’t get all mad and sad so easy.”
Rainbow chewed on the inside of her cheek and twisted her cup of cold coffee between her hooves. “You have a point there, Pinkie. I mean... I was really upset about my wing when I had to stay all cooped up in that hospital. Heh, both times. But, once I got out and about, I was fine. Sure, not flying sucks, but there’s nothing like fresh air and smiling faces to keep your spirits up.” The growing smile on Rainbow’s face suddenly shrunk back into a tight frown. “Still, a broken wing’s not the same as a missing leg. I can’t just go up to her and say, ‘Hey, Rare, let’s go for a walk through the park,’ you know?”
“Why can’t you?” Pinkie cocked her head to the side.
“What if something happens? What if her hip locks on her again—it’s been doing that a lot lately—or if she gets caught in a pothole or something?”
“That’s just a bunch of what-ifs, Dashie. There’s a better chance they won’t happen.”
“Since when did you become an egghead.”
“I always have been, silly. There are eggs in cookies and cakes and—”
“Alright, I get it, I get it. Fair point.” Rainbow cracked a smile. “That’s a good idea though, Pinkie. I should. Get her out of the house, I mean. That’d probably do her some good, though... huh.” The rare smile disappeared beneath a familiar frown. “Actually, I don’t know. Rares is really obsessed with her image. Getting her out of the house like this would be... well, nearly impossible.”
Pinkie shrugged. “Inside or outside, she’s still got the same number of legs. It’ll be weird at first, but no way the ponies around here would be mean or laugh at her. Unless, of course, she was making jokes at Open Mic Night, but then again Rarity’s never been much of a comedian.”
“Pinkie, for the last time, I get it,” Rainbow said. “It’s just going to be hard. Besides, with work being as hectic as it has recently, I don’t know if I could—”
It was Pinkie’s turn to frown, or rather as close as she could get to one. “You say ‘going to be hard’ as if that’s a reason to quit. What’d you do with the real Rainbow Dash, changeling scum?!” Rainbow lifted a foreleg, barely stopping Pinkie before she could attempt to pull off her face. Not a mask, Pinkie, jeez. “The real Rainbow wouldn’t let ‘hard’ get in her way!” After a few more seconds of hoof flailing, Pinkie calmed enough for Dash to put her guard down. However, that didn’t mean Pinkie shut up. Not even close.
“Am I going to have to draw a diagram? Rainbow, I know I can be a bit... me-ish from time to time, but hear me out. I’m trying to help you and Rarity. What you need to do is get her out of the Boutique. Start small, maybe a dinner or a walk or roll on the grass or something. Not a fancy place or a supercrazyfun thing. Just get her out.”
“I get that. But I have work, Pink—”
“Take some time off.”
“Pinkie, I’ve already taken enough time off as is.”
“Doesn’t seem to be enough. You look like you haven’t slept in days, and not because you’ve been up all night partying either. It’s sad tired, and that’s no good at all. You need a break.”
“Taking care of Rares ain’t exactly a break.”
Pinkie shook her head. “You still need to get your noggin away from all those rain clouds a bit. And you still need to take Rarity out somewhere for something. Why not swing by here at seven this evening?” On the other side of the room, a bell rang out. “Derpy!” she called out over her shoulder. “The usual?”
“You bet, Pink—oh, heya, Rainbow Dash!”
Rainbow waved a half-hearted hoof. “Pinkie! Seven? I hav—”
“Shh, I’m working, Dashie,” Pinkie said as she disappeared into the kitchen. As the doors swung, so did Rainbow’s mind. She had to do something; Pinke had raised points she couldn’t argue. But still, a normal Rarity was impossible to sway. A grieving Rarity would somehow transcend ‘impossible.’
Still, they said the Rainboom was impossible, and I showed them.
Rainbow’s gaze drifted to the window. The sun was now more than halfway over the horizon, its apple red light shining through the meticulously-spaced plumes of cumulus that dotted the sky. She had worked clear on the other side of town the night before, but this... this was just what the mayor had ordered. The clouds were perfectly spaced out, there didn’t seem to be any stray puddles of water on the ground nor any unneeded breeze rustling the tree branches. The weather was perfect.
When she slid out of the booth and strolled over to Derpy, it felt like she was gliding. “‘Sup, Derps. Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’ve been thinking, and...” Her words drifted off with one of Derpy’s eyes. Pinkie had come out of the kitchen, and placed a steaming hot croissant on the main counter. “Huh, didn’t think that was your go-to breakfast.”
“What’d you think it was?”
“Eh, that’s not important right now,” Rainbow said with a wave of her hoof. “Look, tell Thunderlane that he’s in charge for the next few days. I’m taking some time off. Have to sort through some personal matters. Just tell ‘Lane to mark me down as ‘sick.’ Heh. Wouldn’t be a lie.”
For the longest while, Derpy simply looked at Dash, blinking and mouthing... something Dash couldn’t read. Eventually, she was able to get her eyes focused, and replied, “Okay.” No sooner had the words entered the air than Rainbow wrapped a foreleg around Derpy’s neck.
“Thanks, I owe you one.” With that, she hurried towards the exit of the Corner.
“Wait, where are you going?” called Derpy, her ears drooping. “I was kinda hoping we’d have breakfast together.”
“As I said, I owe you one,” Rainbow said. “Love to chat, but I’ve got some things I really need to take care of.
“I’ll just add this to the list of IOUs, huh?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rainbow stopped and chuckled. “How many of those do I have now?”
One of Derpy’s eyes drifted to the ceiling, and she stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth. “Let’s see... one, two, three... uh, seven.”
“Looks like I’ve got some catching up to do.” She wheeled around, heading for the exit, but quickly halted and spun once more. “Oh, Pinkie! Seven, right?”
“Yeppers!” Pinkie said to the already closing door.
* * *
Get some rest.
That was what Rarity told herself over and over again as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, and that was what her mind refused to give her. Rainbow Dash had left... oh, it must have been half an hour ago, and though she had to admit she loved that loud, brute of a pegasus’ company, a little peace and quiet was more than welcome. She had hoped she could sleep the rest of the day away. That would have been nice.
At least the mattress is comfortable. Positives, Rarity, positives.
A noise echoed into her room from the hallway: a door opening and closing. First she thought it was Rainbow coming in from work, but no, this door was far too close—on the same floor, if she had to guess. She sighed and placed a hoof on her forehead. The sound of tiny hoofsteps trudging along carpet grew fainter in Rarity’s ears. For a few lovely moments, all was peaceful once more. Then the next sound hit her ears. It was like a downpour had suddenly decided to pelt her rooftop. A glance out the window disproved that immediately. Then the stench of smoke reached her nose.
“Oh for goodness’ sake, Sweetie Belle!” Tossing the covers aside, Rarity sat up in bed and twisted her hooves against her temples. When was that filly going to learn that cooking was not her destiny? Sure, I was very adamant at a young age that I was meant to be a ballerina, but this is just absurd.
Rarity called on her magic, and the leg hovered before her, blue light reflecting off the dull, white plastic. It was not even the right shade—far grayer than the rest of her coat. Just looking at the infernal thing made her head throb. Compared to the headache she had awoken with earlier that morning, this one was not that bad. At least she could use her magic with this one without gaining the sudden desire to jump out the nearest window. She placed the leg on the bed beside her, and the morning routine officially began—if a bit sped up.
She opened the top drawer of her dresser with a light of her horn, and pulled out a white sock. Like the leg, it did not match the rest of her coat, and socks were not even 'in' this fall, but it was either wear the sock or stare at scars and bald patches each time she passed a mirror. She slid the sock on, then grabbed the leg in her magic once more. It was a good fit, her stump fitting firmly enough that she often wondered if tightening the straps on the end was even necessary. Then again, she had tried exactly that one of the first nights back at the Boutique, and it had ended with her laying facedown on the carpet. Once the straps were tightened, she lowered herself off the bed and slowly made her way to the door.
Each step was another test. Would her hip lock up like it did yesterday, or would it cooperate for once? Was today the day that the so-called “knee joint” would decide to finally betray her and move far too freely? Or maybe today was one of those days when it would just hurt and feel wrong. Those were the worst.
As she opened the door, it was as if the stench of smoke smacked her in the face. She made her way downstairs as fast as she could, only tripping once on the steps, and rocketed into the kitchen, nearly knocking over the table.
Sweetie Belle looked back at her from the chair she stood on. The stove was turned on full blast, whatever Sweetie Belle had been trying to cook smoldering in a frying pan. Almost as soon as she had made eye contact with Rarity, she sighed and dumped the pan into the sink. “Sorry. I was hungry.”
Rarity frowned. “Sweetie Belle, you know the rules about using the oven.”
“I know: don’t use it without permission or supervision. But you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You could have just poured a bowl of cereal.”
“There isn’t any.”
“Huh. I could have sworn Rainbow picked some up a week ago.” Rarity’s eyes went wide. “Oh, that glutton.” How many times do I have to tell her?
And how many times does she have to tell you?
Rarity blinked rapidly. That had been her own, yes, but... what in the world could it possibly be referring to? What relevance did it even have? And why was it talking to her? She was her already.
Am I talking to myself talking to myself?
As she thought, she glanced at Sweetie Belle, and noticed where she was looking. Right at the leg. It took Rarity less than a second to put two and two together.
“Sweetie,” she said, taking a step forward and leaning down, “we should talk.”
For the longest while, Sweetie sat as still as a statue, save for her eyes, which darted between the leg and the floor. The silent glances repeated like a broken record, so much so that Rarity felt like she might need to give her sister a tap on the head to straighten her out. Before she could do that, Sweetie Belle spoke again.
“I have to go,” she said. She was scampering to the door before the words had fully registered with Rarity.
“Sweetie Belle, wait!” She attempted to give chase, but her leg was not built for anything more than a brisk stroll, and she had to catch herself on the table after only a couple of steps. As pushed herself up to try to chase down her sister once more, she noticed Sweetie Belle’s saddlebags still laying on one of the kitchen chairs. Picking them up, she hobbled to the closing frontdoor as quickly as she could.
“Sweetie Belle, you forgot your bag!” she called out, but the filly was already over the bridge, nearly completely obscured by the ponies making their way to work, school, or just wherever. For the tiniest of seconds, Rarity considered chasing after her. However, with a glance back at the leg, she swiped away the thought almost as soon as it had come. Groaning, she trudged back into the kitchen. Silently and listlessly, she retrieved a loaf of bread from the pantry, and levitated two slices into the toaster. A few minutes later, and they were done. A few more seconds, and they were being lazily chewed on by Rarity as she sat slumped at the kitchen table. No butter, no jelly, just dry, hard bread. It tasted like cardboard.
You have to give her credit, she is handling this far better than you probably would have. You would probably still be bawling if you were in her place.
Rarity groaned. She hated it when her mind had a point. Give her time, it said, keep trying, she’ll open up eventually so long as you keep poking, and then you can sort all this out and everything will be normal.
She glanced at the leg. Like it ever will be.
Just keep trying. It will all work out.
Rarity sighed and took a chunk out of her second piece of toast, crumbs covering her face and chest. She did not bother wiping them away. It was going to be one of those days where everything moved in slow motion and ended in explosions and tears. The crumbs were at least temporary. If she stood up, they would fall away, as if they had never been there in the first place.
If only everything were like that.
For not the first time that morning, Rarity wished that she could simply get a little sleep.
It's going to be a long day.