//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: The Trottingham Gutters // by meoaim //------------------------------// The front door swung open. A large muscled earth pony grabbed the two mares and tossed them outside, into the night. A slightly tipsy Applejack was the first to hit the ground. She was followed by a very inebriated Rainbow Dash, who had attempted to arrest her fall by flapping upside down. “And stay out!” the stallion sneered. He spit on the ground and the door slammed shut. “This was a dumb idea.” Applejack said, struggling to get onto her hooves. “What?” Rainbow Dash dazedly replied. The world wouldn’t stop spinning, so she elected to remain where she was. “I said,” she grunted as she finally managed to get upright, “that this was a complete disaster. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” “Sh’hey,” Dash slurred, “it’s not my fault there wasn’t nopony in that shtupid pub that knew anything about nothing.” “It certainly didn’t help when you challenged that pony with the knife cutiemark to a hoofwrestling match. And then, after a couple more drinks, you challenged him again, but this time to tag-team karaoke!” “I thoughtsh we sang pretty good.” “What in tarnation do you think we just got kicked out for!?” Applejack yelled. Dash’s eyes appeared to focus on Applejack for a couple of moments. Dash vaguely waved a hoof in a wide arc front of her, “Woah, where’d the roof go, Jacky?” she said. “Jacky” sighed and massaged her temples. Usually the headache came after the onset of sobriety, but her companion appeared to be accelerating the process. “Come on, Rainbow,” Applejack said, her rage subsiding. She walked over and helped her friend upright. “We need to get you home. Where exactly do you live?” Dash, now on her hooves, screwed up her face in concentration. “I think,” she pointed down the street, “it’sh that way.” The motion caused her to nearly trip. Luckily, Applejack caught her before she ended up on the ground again. Seeing as how Rainbow Dash was in no fit state to walk home by herself Applejack carefully grabbed Rainbow’s shoulder, lending support to the stumbling mare. Together they made their way down the street, their only guide the sparse illumination of the street lights that lined the road. “Y’know what, Jacky?” Rainbow said after they had been walking for a few minutes. Dash’s head was uncomfortably close to Applejack. The air around was heavy with the scent of alcohol. “I can’t say that I do,” Applejack replied, wrinkling her nose. She tried to withdraw her face as far away as possible from Rainbow without removing her hoof. “I like you.” Applejack felt her cheeks bloom red. “P-pardon?” she replied, nearly tripping on her hooves. She realized just how close she and her companion were at this moment. Rainbow Dash did not appear to notice Applejack’s discomfort. She continued on. “I like you, Jacky. You’re the closest thing I have to a... whaddya call it? Friend. Yeah. You’re the coolest pony I’ve met. No one at the station wants to hang out with me.” The color in Applejack’s face faded back to normal. She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Bunch of stuck up stallions, all of them. I mean, if I’d known it was gonna be like this, I would’a just stayed in Cloudsdale! And don’t get me started on those top-hat ponies...” Applejack gradually tuned out Rainbow’s ramblings. She turned her attention to the city around her. She had never been out so late. Usually it was straight home after work for a good night’s sleep. Maybe she had been missing out. Trottingham at night, well, it wasn’t quite beautiful – nothing here was – but it had this sense of mystique. Buildings she always assumed were either empty or abandoned bustled with activity. Some sported hoof-painted signs in the windows, advertising sights such as, “Curious Oddities for the Discerning Pony”, “P. P. P/P Investigator”, and even “Madame Clare’s Palace of Reasonably-Priced Pleasures”. Applejack wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what was inside any of those places. She was about say some comment to Rainbow when a sudden movement grabbed her attention. Further up the street and off to the side Applejack saw a small, darkened outline poked its head out. The figure seemed vaguely familiar to Applejack, had she seen that tiny form before? Before she could ponder further the little shadow departed from the alleyway. It moved quickly and crossed the street in a matter of seconds. It was near the front door of a building Applejack didn’t recognize. It stepped up the door and opened it. The shadow became illuminated for the briefest of moments –Applejack just barely spotted a flash of  purple mane– then the door closed and the figure vanished inside. Applejack stared at the front of the building. The gears in her mind slowly clicked into place. She supposed going to the pub had gotten her a lead after all, in a roundabout sort of way. She made her way over the building. Like all the others it had a sign hanging in the window. It read, “Cherished Wish’s Pawn Emporium”. Piles of knick-knacks filled up the display window completely. There wasn’t anyway to see inside. “Hey Rainbow,” Applejack said, “wait here a minute.” She carefully removed her hoof from her oblivious companion’s body. Dash swayed from side to side, but, against all odds, managed to remain upright. “S’not a problem, Jacky. I gotsch this,” Rainbow replied. “Only for a minute,” Applejack said, a little concerned at Dash’s actions. “Just got to check something out.” The inside of the building was not as captivating as the outside. As Applejack stepped inside the lights above flickered on and off intermittently. Metal shelving placed seemingly randomly throughout held an endless variety of items; most of them were broken and nearly all were coated with a thick layer of dust. In the corner was a very old mare, presumably named Cherished Wish, with a pale purple coat and white mane. Set in her wrinkled face was a pair of small, beady eyes which she had fixed upon Applejack as she set foot in the store. Mrs. Wish looked like she was ready to say something to Applejack. A greeting, maybe, or a threat. She was stopped short, however, by another voice. “Hey lady!” the voice shouted. It was loud enough that it fully captured Mrs. Wish’s attention. The owner of the voice definitely sounded like a filly. Though even if Applejack craned her neck  the accumulated junk of the store blocked her view of whoever was speaking. She walked further in to try and confirm her suspicions. She caught sight of her target as she rounded past an entire stack of cracked picture frames. Before her was the little pony who had, on the morning previous, raced past her stall holding a stolen pouch. She was only a little ways away from the display case. She was glaring just as resolutely at Mrs. Wish as Mrs. Wish was at her. The filly didn’t look much different. She was still as ragged as ever. Resting on her back was the stolen bag of bits along with what looked like a polished wooden box. “Hey lady,” the filly repeated, “I want this.” With a deft flick of her hindquarters, the box went flying through the air, landing with a clatter on the counter. Mrs. Wish put her hoof onto the box and leaned her head closer to the filly. “That’s great. I want a mansion, and a handsome stallion to go with it,” she said. “Do you have the bits to pay for this, you little brat?” The filly scowled. “Cram it, you old hag.” She tossed over the pouch. “That should be enough.” Mrs. Wish undid the drawstrings. Her eyes lit up in surprise, as she took in what was inside the bag. “What business does a little guttersnipe like you have with so much money?” “She doesn’t,” Applejack interrupted. “That money’s not hers to give.” No matter what her feelings were towards this child’s supposed situation, she wasn’t going to let her reap the fruits of someone else’s labor. “Oh really? This little poppet is a thief?” She tightened her grip on the bag and slowly clamped a hoof down on the wooden box. “Can’t say I’m surprised; she has that look about her. I suppose you’re the lucky mare she nicked it from, then?” “Not exactly,” Applejack said. Though she spoke to the old mare, her eyes were fixed on the pony in front of her. Her target was still turned towards the counter, her back facing Applejack. The filly was standing stock still, like her entire body had frozen right when Applejack first spoke. If Applejack had been able to get a good look at her eyes, though, she would have seen that the filly’s gaze was dancing like mad all around the room. Scootaloo’s mind was racing, running itself in circles, as she desperately tried to consider all the possibilities. She had been so close, but her prize had been snatched from her by that stupid orange mare. Scootaloo had seen her come in, of course, but hadn’t recognized that she was the one running the fruit stand from before. Hadn’t noticed until it was too late. Now she was trapped. If she ran, she’d have to leave the money and her prize behind. If she tried to make a grab for the box she’d have to contend with two ponies in close quarters. What was she supposed to do?. Luckily, it seemed that the two other ponies were still talking to each other. That would at least buy her some more time to think. “Not exactly?” the old crone said. She considered the drab state of the wallet in her hoof. “Took it from your husband then?” “What? No! Just consider me a... a concerned Equestrian citizen.” “Whatever floats your boat, sweetheart. I knew this girl would be nothing but trouble as soon as she stepped inside, I should have known she would try and use stolen coin.” She gave a particularly sadistic glare towards Scootaloo. “I suppose I’ll go down and fetch the police, then. If you would stay here, sweetheart. Make sure the girl doesn’t try and run.” “That won’t be necessary,” the orange mare said quickly. “In fact, there’s a policemare standing outside.” The hairs on Scootaloo’s back stood straight up. The police were already here? This was bad. Really, really bad. “Just give me a moment,” the mare continued. “Then we can sort this whole mess out.” “Certainly, sweetheart, but it seems the brat has gone and paralyzed herself with fear.” She could push over the shelves, try to distract both of them. Would she be able to grab the box quick enough? Should she attack while she had the element of surprise? Scootaloo felt a hoof fall on her shoulder. “You alright there?” the mare asked. Scootaloo shot down the urge to bolt and turned her head. She really didn’t look angry at all. No, the look she wore on her face was much worse. Concern. Scootaloo was prepared for a lot of things, but not this. The mare looked her square in the eye. “You’re not in any trouble, kiddo. I promise. I just want to talk.” “Not in any trouble?” Scootaloo said incredulously. “Says the pony who brought cops. Says the pony who has me boxed in a corner. Right.” Whatever game this mare was trying to play, she wasn’t about to buy it. “Now I admit this whole situation seems a mighty bit suspicious. But believe me; I just want to help.” “If you wanted to help you could’ve just minded your own business!” “That’s not what I– I mean–I... shoot!” The mare rubbed her eyes with her free hoof for a moment. “I reckon this got off to a bad start, let’s try this again.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. The mare took a moment to compose herself. “My name’s Applejack,” the mare said. “What’s yours?” “I’m not telling you my name!” Scootaloo yelled. “I ain’t gonna force you to tell me. I’m just asking if you’d be willing to tell me.” The filly considered this. It’s not like it really mattered whether or not she knew her name. She already knew what she looked like. Maybe she could still turn this around if she humored whatever particular brand of crazy this “Applejack” was working under. “...Scootaloo.” Applejack smiled. “Nice to meet you, Scootaloo.” It was a bad idea to give out her name. She felt the beginnings of queasiness in her stomach. This was the first time another pony had said her name since her sister had left. “Yeah, great, nice to meet you too,” Scootaloo said, “You gonna let me go now?” Applejack ignored her question. “Care to tell me why you were picking pony’s pockets, Scootaloo?” Her name again. The pit in her chest grew. “T-that’s a stupid question. I needed the money!” “I see.” Scootaloo narrowed her gaze down into a glare. “A-are you making fun of me?” “No, that’s not what I’m trying to do.” Applejack’s voice took on a delicate tone, as though she was afraid she might break something with the wrong words. “Do you got anyone looking after you, Scootaloo?” she asked. The world seemed to go flat. Scootaloo’s throat suddenly felt very dry. Now she knew what game Applejack was trying to play. No. The gentle crease of frown that wasn’t directed at her, but for her. No. The eyes that even now were filling with pity. She wanted to lie to her, tell her yes, make her go away. The words wouldn’t come. “Somepony like your mother or father?” Applejack continued, “Grandmother? Maybe a brother or a sis-” She was unprepared. She had been caught. Compromised. Exposed. Applejack had kept saying her name. That, of all things, probably did it. She knew what Applejack wanted, but Scootaloo wouldn’t give it. Never again. She felt herself collide with smooth glass. “Scootaloo? Are you okay? Scootaloo? Scootaloo? Oh horseapples.” Applejack wasn’t sure how to respond beyond that. She had gone in without a plan beyond a vague idea to establish the filly’s situation. Everything seemed to be going alright but then Scootaloo had let out a strangled gasp, turned tail and slammed headfirst into the display case. She was lying on the floor now, eyes closed and teeth clenched. She didn’t appear to be bleeding, at least. “Well,” Mrs. Wish said, “You certainly have a way with words.” “Ma’am,” Applejack said, “I think there’s something wrong with her.” Mrs. Wish gave an unimpressed look to the crumple of filly on the floor. “Trust me, sweetheart. She’s faking it. I know the type. They’ll try every dirty little trick in the book if they think it’ll save their rotten little hides.” “She’s only a filly!” “You haven’t been here very long, have you, sweetheart?” Applejack resolved to ignore any further comments from Mrs. Wish and strode over to Scootaloo. The filly was groaning slightly. Her hooves were reflexively gripped against her head. Lacking other options, Applejack gently shook Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Can you hear me, Scootaloo?” To Applejack’s surprise, Scootaloo’s eyes opened up a fraction of an inch. “Oh thank goodness!” Applejack sifted through the hair on the filly’s forehead, “Are you ok? How’s your head feeling?” Scootaloo shook her head and mumbled something Applejack couldn’t make out. Applejack leaned in closer. “Pardon?” Scootaloo said something, louder this time, but Applejack still didn’t hear. “What was that, Scootaloo?” She grabbed the hoof that Applejack had on her head. “I said,” she began, her voice shaking, “Get your stupid hoof off of me!” Without waiting for a response she swung her free foreleg towards Applejack’s face. Applejack wasn’t expecting it. She recoiled backwards with a holler, tipping over a pair of shelves. The pain was incredible, Scootaloo had hit her right in the eye. She reopened her one good eye just in time to see Scootaloo on her feet and bolting for the door. “Scootaloo, wait!” Applejack called out. “Shut up!” Scootaloo screamed, “Stop saying my name!” She was already at the door. She wrenched it open only to find her path blocked by a cyan mare. “What’s going on here?” Rainbow said, slowly focusing on the filly in front of her, “I heard a bunch’a yelling.” “Outta my way!” Scootaloo said. She dove between Rainbow’s legs. Rainbow tried to move to intercept the filly. Her balance was quickly lost, however, and she landed unceremoniously on the cobbles, pinning Scootaloo beneath her. “Let go!” Scootaloo said. Her hindlegs were trapped under the cyan mare’s bulk. She kicked and struggled and finally freed herself just as Applejack appeared at the door. “I’m sorry that I upset you!” Applejack said, trying to find a way past the mass of pony blocking the door, “I just want to help you!” “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anypony’s help! Just go away!” Scootaloo ran. “Please!” Applejack shouted. To her fascination, Scootaloo stopped. The filly stood stock still for several more seconds. Applejack was afraid she would decide to bolt again. But then she twisted her neck to face Applejack. She was just a few steps away from the alley she had originally appeared from. Her expression was unreadable in the darkness “I... uh...” Applejack tried to say something, anything, but found she was at a loss for words. Scootaloo was silent. When it became clear that Applejack had nothing to add she began to slowly walk away. Applejack tried to think. What was she supposed to say? She still wasn’t sure what to make of Scootaloo. But she knew that something must have happened to her, something to make her so angry. Suddenly, the words came to her. “I know it must be hard,” Applejack said, “whatever is it you’ve been through.” Scootaloo stopped. “You’re scared, because you’ve lost everything that matters. It’s like all the things you thought you knew just got flipped upside down and you’re scared cause’ you don’t know what to do.  Only you don’t want anyone to know you’re scared, isn’t that right Scootaloo? So you hide your fear, hide it deep inside yourself. Maybe you pretend it doesn’t bother you, maybe you tell yourself it wasn’t really that important to you. But nothing helps, you’re still scared all the time.” “How would you know?” Scootaloo said. Her voice sounded strained, like her words were stuck in her throat. “What makes you think you know anything?” High above, two shooting stars streaked through the night sky. Applejack thought about the farm, so many miles away. “I’ve walked that road before. Please, let me help.” Silence stretched out between the two. Applejack had nothing more she could say. “You don’t know me, Applejack." Scootaloo said, "I’m just fine. I have never needed anyone.” With that, she vanished down the alley.