Chapter 15
Finding Peace
The gate squeaked wretchedly at Rainbow’s touch. She winced, lowering her ears, and forced the old, rusted wrought iron open the rest of the way. She glanced over her shoulder at Twilight for reassurance before stepping into the graveyard.
Working her way slowly and reverently through the overgrown weeds and worn gravestones, Rainbow traced the ill-used, but familiar path ingrained in her memory. Twilight followed closely behind, near enough to place a comforting hoof on her fiancée’s back if needed, but with enough distance for Rainbow to make the journey on her own.
Past old and gnarled trees, crumbly mausoleums, and faded markers, the pair wound through the cemetery until Rainbow spotted the small hill up ahead. That hill carried an almost palpable weight for the pegasus, steeped in years of ache. She took a deep breath and began the agonizing ascent on tremulous steps, her gaze locked on the single stone ahead of her.
Rainbow pulled open her saddlebag and gripped the bouquet of roses in her teeth. Bowing her head, she gently set it down in front of the gravestone. Her eyes traced back up over the well worn and faded contours of the marker’s missive, chiseled as firmly into her memory as they were into the rock.
With reservation in her voice, she read the stone out loud, as much from recollection as actually reading it. “Here lies Buckaneer Blaze. Beloved father, friend, and Wonderbolt.”
Twilight quietly marveled, “I didn’t know your dad was in the Wonderbolts…”
Turning from the stone, Rainbow smiled sadly at the unicorn. “When he was rescued from his parents, nopony thought he’d ever be able to fly. When he did, it was national news. The Wonderbolts made him an honorary member.” She drifted her gaze back to the gravestone. “Hey, dad…”
Twilight took a step back and bowed her head, closing her eyes.
“I’m…I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve been here. I, uh…I guess I could say I’ve been busy, but you deserve better’n that.” Rainbow sat on her haunches, her head and ears lowered. She ran her hoof over the fading words. “You deserved better’n you got. From the world, and…and from me.”
Rainbow inhaled deeply and let out a lingering sigh. “I’ve…I’ve been angry at you for a long time. I was so young, dad. All I had was you, an’ then you were gone. For a long time, I thought that’s why I was angry, and I hated myself for it. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want to die; I saw it in your eyes. It was so clear in your eyes that you were the first thought for me when I needed somepony for Scoots to look up to. I felt guilty for so long thinkin’ that I was angry ‘cause you died.”
Shaking her head slowly, Rainbow’s voice dropped lower. “But that wasn’t really it. It took me a long time to figure out why, but I got it now, dad. It’s ‘cause you couldn’t make up your mind about flying or family. That’s really what killed you, and more’n that, it’s what it did to me.”
Tracing her hoof down, she touched the waxed paper wrapping the bouquet. “You pushed me so hard to be a Wonderbolt…and you didn’t even need to; it was all I talked about, all I wanted to do anyway. So many days flyin’ that ended with me hurlin’ off the side of a cloud, so many fevers from workin’ too hard…but if that’s all it was? That you worked me too hard, livin’ a dream you couldn’t have? I wouldn’t even be angry.”
Rainbow shook her head gently. “If all ya did was push an’ push, I’d think you were just a jerk tryin’ to live through me. But every time I got sick from it...every time somethin’ made you think of mom…suddenly you didn’t want me to fly.” As she spoke, her voice grew more and more bitter. “You wanted me to make friends and have fun. You’d start talkin’ about the type of pony you wanted me to end up with. Somepony kind and thoughtful, who could slow me down a little.
“I thought…for a long time, I thought you were thinkin’ I was weak. That I couldn’t handle the trainin’, so I should give up. But then, after I got my cutie mark and came home from flight school…” Rainbow sighed again, stooping even lower. “I saw it. You were afraid. So afraid for me, an’ I didn’t know why. You didn’t think I was weak, you thought I was too strong.
“…I finally figured out why. It took me way too long, but you know I’ve never been the best at thinkin’ through everything.”
She raised her head and ran her hoof over her father’s name. “It was all about mom. It was all about why she left. Why you never told me why she left.” She swallowed heavily. “She left ‘cause she couldn’t put up with how much you put into flyin’. She didn’t get to see you ever, ‘cause you never stopped workin’ at it and she saw it was killin’ you. And it did kill you. Even when you slowed down to look after me, it still killed you. You were afraid I was gonna end up like you: a worn out pony pushin’ myself past my breakin’ point until nopony would have anything to do with me.”
A weak smile drifted across Rainbow’s face. “But mom was the wrong one, not you. She left both of us. You were there, dad, an’ you spent your whole life fighting for everything. You shouldn’t have been afraid I’d end up like you. I’m proud I ended up like you. One of the best ponies I’ll ever meet. You were so strong an’ you cared so much. You just wanted me to have everything. Everything you didn’t have, everything I wanted, everything you wanted for me. For so long I was angry at you and admired you at the same time. But…I’m not angry anymore. ‘Cause I understand now, dad.
“I understand, ‘cause…” She turned and looked at Twilight. The unicorn stepped forward and set her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. Rainbow cupped it and squeezed. “’Cause I found Twilight. She’s exactly the sorta pony you always wanted me to end up with, always tryin’ to get me to slow down and think things through first. I just know you’d love her, too.”
Twilight leaned down and kissed Rainbow’s brow.
Smiling before turning back to the stone, Rainbow continued, “I finally slowed down a little, dad. I asked Twilight to marry me, and she said yes. I…I wish you could be there for it, but I wish that about a lot of things. I’ve missed you, dad. I’ve missed you so much. There was so much we never got to say, so many ponies I want you to meet. You’ll never get to meet my friends; the type of ponies you always wanted me to find, but I was too busy livin’ both of our dreams. You’ll never get to meet Twilight and see me prove that I finally got what you were tryin’ to tell me. An’ you’ll never get to meet Scoots…”
Rainbow lowered her head again, her wavering voice barely above a whisper. “Scoots is just like the both of us, dad. But she’s better than us, too. She doesn’t need to be told to try and slow down and find somethin’ in the ponies around her. She knows already. An’ as hard as it is to know you’ll never meet her, it’s even harder knowin’ she’ll never get to meet you.
“You’re one of the best ponies I’ll ever meet, dad. I love you. I never said that enough when you were alive, but I love you. Thank you, for everythin’ you did for me an’ everythin’ you tried to do for me. I’ll never forget you, an’ Scoots’ll never forget you, either.
“You worked hard your whole life to prove to that trash of a family you came from that you weren’t worthless. Well, you proved it to me. You proved it to all of Equestria.” A tear ran down Rainbow’s face and she wiped it away. “You can stop fighting now, dad. We can both stop fighting now. We won.”
Rainbow stood and turned to her fiancée. She discovered that Twilight had been silently sobbing. They embraced each other tightly and cried together on the hill. The sun moved a noticeable distance across the sky by the time they pulled away.
Twilight sniffled loudly and rubbed at her muzzle. Smiling remotely, Rainbow kissed the mare on the cheek and mumbled, “I’m ready to go now.”
“Hold on,” Twilight whispered. She stepped carefully to the gravestone and bowed her head. “…It was an honor and a privilege to meet you.” Her horn lit up with magic and she pressed it to the gravestone.
Energy leapt from the unicorn, circling and spreading out from the marker in a blinding flash. Rainbow rubbed at her eyes, blinking the stars from her vision and watching the magic fade away. The bouquet stood tall in a porcelain vase next to the stone on the now well manicured grass. Chips and roughness had been healed across the granite surface of the marker until it was bold and new; as proud and solid as the pony it represented.
Rainbow’s eyes traced across the sharpened message. “Here lies Buckaneer Blaze. Beloved father, friend, and Wonderbolt. He will never be forgotten.”
Rainbow extended her wing and pulled Twilight close to her side, leaning into the mare. Together, they slowly turned and carefully made their way back to the gate.
“This is your chance; she’s been shut up in her room all day. Bring her lunch and talk to her.”
“...”
“Care, please, this is killing you.”
“...I can’t. Not yet. I need more time.”
“You’ve had months.”
“She’s not going to listen to me.”
“For Celestia’s sake, you’re afraid of a foal.”
“She’s not a foal, anymore, Under. That was the mistake I made.”
“And ignoring this is going to fix anything?”
“...”
“So what are you going to do?”
“...I don’t know.”
Scootaloo rolled out of bed and shook her head roughly to clear the fog of sleep from her mind. She popped a kink in her neck and fluffed out her wings. She hopped through a set of wing-jacks and stretched out the muscles in her feathered limbs, a satisfied smile on her lips. ‘Perfect. Feeling good today; just in time for flying.’ She shook her head again and cantered out of her room and into the bathroom.
Smiling thinly at her reflection, Scootaloo mussed up her mane and grabbed a toothbrush. She watched the muscles in her leg flex and relax as she moved the brush in her mouth. In some ways, she didn’t really recognize the filly in the mirror anymore. All the lean and powerful rippling under her coat looked more like Rainbow Dash’s frame than her own.
It was a change she knew she’d get used to.
Spitting into the sink, Scootaloo dug under the vanity and pulled a washcloth and cleaning spray bottle out. With practiced speed and ease, she sprayed down the bathroom’s fixtures and wiped them clean. A quick retreat to the upstairs utility closet to grab a mop, and soon the bathroom shone spotlessly.
Nodding in satisfaction, Scootaloo put away the cleaning supplies and headed downstairs. Mrs. Taker sat on the couch, reading a book. The filly opened the front door. “Chores’re done,” Scootaloo barked over her shoulder, her voice disinterested and flat, “I’m leavin’ now.”
Without waiting for an answer she knew wouldn’t come, Scootaloo shut the door behind herself and grabbed her scooter. A wan smile on her face, she buzzed through town, weaving between ponies and shops, headed for the library.
The past two days had weighed heavily on Scootaloo’s spirits. She hadn’t seen Rainbow Dash or Twilight since her speed test, nor had she seen Apple Bloom. She’d spent most of the time shut up in her room, or listlessly cruising through town on her scooter, trying to not think too much.
She hadn’t seen Sweetie Belle, either.
A sigh escaped her muzzle and she shook her head again, taking a sharp turn past town hall and aiming for Golden Oaks Library. She pulled up short at the door and raised her hoof to knock when she spotted a small note taped below the knob, labeled ‘Scoots’ in messy mouthwriting. Raising an eyebrow, Scootaloo pulled it from the door and unfolded it, reading aloud.
“Dear Scoots,
“Me and Twilight had to go out of town for a day. We’ll meet you at the park at four for your flight, since I know you don’t want to wait. See you then, kiddo. Bring your friends.
—Rainbow.”
Scootaloo sighed and shook her head. “Guess I’m predictable.” She glanced around, trying to figure out what to do with the note before shrugging and taping it back to the door. She stepped onto her scooter and took off again, heading towards Sweet Apple Acres. As she buzzed her wings, her expression grew troubled. “…I have to tell Sweetie Belle, too. She’ll still wanna be there, even if stuff’s kinda weird…”
She grumbled to herself, a petulant whine entering her voice. “Rainbow said it might be weird, but we’d get over it. She’s still my friend.” She slowed her pace as the cobbled road turned to dirt and she took a deep breath. She forced herself to focus on the big thing: she was really going to fly.
A lightness lifted from the pit of her stomach and her mouth broke out in a grin. “I’m gonna fly with Rainbow Dash today.” She turned down the road leading towards the farm and perked her ears, swiveling them around to catch sounds of working. The double thump of hooves against bark told her Applejack was working the western fields, and the single slams said Big Macintosh was to the north. As she drew closer to the barn, a melody of tools on wood and metal widened her smile. If they had ever shouted out, “Cutie Mark Crusaders mad tinkerers,” Scootaloo was convinced Apple Bloom would have gotten her cutie mark years ago.
She propped her scooter up against the barn and wandered inside. “Hey, AB.” She glanced up at the…whatever it was her friend was building.
“Well, heya, Scoots!” Apple Bloom chimed, pulling the welding mask back from her face and hopping down from the ladder. “Ya like it?”
“What, uh…what is it?”
Apple Bloom scrutinized the wild collection of boards and metal, bolted and welded together in a jumbled mess she was still discerning. “I…don’t rightly know yet. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be somethin’ nopony’ll ever forget.” A manic gleam entered Apple Bloom’s eyes.
Scootaloo’s voice took on a very uneasy quality. “That’s, uh…that’s great, AB.” She shook her head and dragged her gaze off the whatever it was. “So, today’s the day. Four o’clock in the park.”
Apple Bloom shouted, “You’re flyin’!?” She leapt over and hugged Scootaloo roughly. “Alright! I can’t wait to see ya in action, Scoots! It’s gonna be amazin’!” She stepped back and glanced at her creation, then looked out the barn door, catching the sun’s height in the sky. “Oh, man! I’m gonna be late!” She pulled off her welding mask and tried to straighten her mane with her hooves, leaving dark smudges of axle grease in her hair.
“Late?”
“I’m havin’ lunch with Rumble; I gotta go get ready!” She hurried about the room, unhooking her tools from the generator and picking up sharp and dangerous scraps from the floor.
Scootaloo’s ears fell at the mention of Apple Bloom’s special somepony. She willed her voice to sound natural. “Yeah…I gotta go find Sweetie Belle an’ tell her about it.”
“Oh, don’t worry none about that, Scoots,” Apple Bloom said, slamming her forelegs on the lid of an overstuffed toolbox, but failing to close it. “I’m supposed to meet Sweetie Belle on the way to Rumble’s and give her somethin’ I made; I can tell her for ya.”
Scootaloo warred between the relief of not being thrust into that bit of awkwardness, disappointment at not seeing Sweetie Belle, and unease concerning the fact that now she wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her crush before the flight. “Thanks, AB,” she said with some ambivalence.
“Welcome.” With one last leaping tackle, she got the toolbox to latch. “Anyway, I gotta go get cleaned up. I’ll see ya at the park, Scoots! I can’t wait!” She galloped from the barn.
Scootaloo sighed in resignation and slowly plodded her way out. She grabbed her scooter, but didn’t have the heart to climb on, so she led it slowly through the orchards. Lost in her thoughts and not paying attention to the path she was on, Scootaloo found herself arriving at a familiar clearing. She smiled vaguely at the old clubhouse, gripped by nostalgia. Setting her scooter against the ramp, Scootaloo slowly climbed up.
She stood in the middle of the single room and turned in place, her eyes drifting over the solid walls and floors, the table crates, odds and ends shoved into corners, old maps and plans tacked to walls or messily erased from their blackboard. A thousand days past lived and breathed in the wooden slats.
Scootaloo stepped carefully to the uneven blotch on the floor, made of dried glue and studded with fading bits of glitter, squished into the wood by the pegasus and left to harden when they made Cheerilee an oversized Hearts and Hooves Day card. She carefully set her leg down over the glue.
Her hoof didn’t fit anymore. Three years of growing left the hardened print a crystallized reminder of the past. Her past. Their past.
She circled around the room, running her hoof along the wall. Faint scratches marred the surface where Tank had bounced off during one short afternoon of pet-sitting. A still noticeable dent, hidden by a Rainbow Dash Fanclub poster, marked where Apple Bloom had hit her head during an attempt at cutie marks in pro wrestling.
She stopped briefly at the faded bullseye of the idea spot. She looked up and felt the ghost of the headache from when she turned on the lamp with her skull. Continuing on, she came to the old wheel from their parade float. She giggled remotely, remembering Apple Bloom thumping onto her rump just months before.
Her circling complete, Scootaloo cantered to her usual spot for when they sat as a group and sighed, sinking to her haunches. She could hear the phantoms in the walls. A thousand days. She closed her eyes and laid down on her belly.
Time slipped away from Scootaloo as she lay prone in heady reminiscence, a pleasant and buzzing lull of memories pinning her in place as she attempted to become unstuck in time. She barely noticed the thump of hooves on the ramp and only really became aware she was no longer alone when something heavy was set on the floor.
“Hey, AB,” she said, sitting up and shaking the fog of near sleep from her mind, “Thought you’d left for lunch alrea—” Scootaloo opened her eyes. Sweetie Belle stood at the door, a hint of pink in her cheeks and her expression tentative and skittish. “…H-hi…”
Sweetie Belle nervously cleared her throat, looking down. Scootaloo followed her gaze and saw Sweetie Belle had brought some sort of machine with her. On top of it sat four cordless microphones. Sweetie Belle cleared her throat again and half whispered, “Hi Scoots.”
A heavy stillness filled every inch of space in the room as they looked at each other and tried not to look at each other. At once, they both said, “I’m sor—”
An audible click sounded as their jaws snapped shut in tandem. Scootaloo shook her head harshly and talked over the silence, her words a rapid staccato. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle, I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, it wasn’t right for me to do it, I didn’t mean to make things weird, I know it’ll be weird for a while, but please don’t hate me, I don’t wanna lose you as a friend—”
“I’m sorry, Scoots,” Sweetie Belle interrupted, timidly sitting down and bowing her head. Scootaloo’s teeth clicked shut again. “I shouldn’t have run off like that…it was mean to you. You didn’t deserve that.”
Scootaloo’s throat bobbed silently.
“I, uhh…I wanted to make it up to you…so I asked AB to make this,” she tapped the contraption with her hoof, “Since you couldn’t be there when I got my cutie mark…”
“What—?”
Sweetie Belle gripped a pull chord with her teeth and yanked, sputtering a small generator in the machine to life. As it evened out, the noise dropped to that of a fan. The mesh screen facing Scootaloo crackled and buzzed.
Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “A portable amp?”
Sweetie Belle smiled faintly and lifted one of the microphones in a glow of magic. She mumbled, “Test,” and her voice sounded out through the speaker. She lowered the mic from her muzzle and said, “It’s not the stage, but…it’ll almost be like you were there.”
Nodding vaguely, Scootaloo let her posture relax. Sweetie Belle lifted the other three microphones and suspended them around the small room before sliding the amp back against the wall, just inside the door. Scootaloo, her heart thumping painfully from a mixture of bewilderment and shapeless hope that...something would happen, watched the little unicorn take several deep breaths and clear her throat.
Sweetie turned to the amp and depressed a button on the top; a soft lilting of guitar stringing hummed from the speaker as she turned back to Scootaloo and smiled thinly. She shut her eyes in concentration and the four microphones began to bob up and down in the air in time with the melody, weaving delicately around the room in an inscrutable pattern.
Stepping to the closest, Sweetie Belle gently closed her eyes and began to sing. “Can't you see?”
Scootaloo’s heart slowed immediately as her friend’s powerful, sonorous voice filled the room. The filly’s suspended microphones danced through the air. As a soft drum beat joined the music, Sweetie began to pace in a circle, dipping her shoulders with the music, her tail weaving side to side with each step. As one microphone floated out of range a second replaced it, its path alongside her muzzle fluid and natural. Scootaloo was mesmerized as her friend moved through the space, the exact words lost to her ears, but the strength and conviction striking her core.
Then, a quarter of the way around the room, Sweetie Belle kicked off to the center, sliding to a microphone waiting for her.
“'Cause I wanted to fly—” she opened her eyes and locked her gaze with Scootaloo, all ambivalence and fear gone, just a look of pure, honest connection, “—so you gave me your wings.”
Scootaloo’s breath caught in her throat.
“And time held its breath so I could see, yeah,” her voice dropped, rich and powerful, but gentle. It felt like it was directed straight at Scootaloo. “And you set me free.”
Sweetie Belle stood back up, resuming her strutting pace, rolling her shoulders and hips through the verse. Scootaloo’s heart was a hummingbird trapped in her chest, rattling against her ribcage. Her hooves trembled and she struggled to breathe evenly. The spinning cloud of microphones connected as almost a living entity to both the song and Sweetie’s movements.
At the second chorus, Sweetie slid into place at the far end of the clubhouse. Framed in the doorway and facing away, she looked over her shoulder to catch Scootaloo’s gaze.
“'Cause I wanted to fly, so you gave me your wings. And time held its breath so I could see, yeah—” She stood fluidly, slowly turning in place, never breaking eye contact as she sang. Her voice dropped again. “And you set me free.”
The flying microphones slowly drifted to the center of the room, weaving back and forth, forming a tunnel between Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. She strutted through the tunnel, her steps controlled and in sync, while microphones caught her mouth for every word and darted to the left and right in front and behind her. On the final chorus, she stopped mere inches in front of Scootaloo.
As her voice grew louder over the lyrics, she slowly closed the gap with the trembling pegasus. With each repeat, Sweetie’s voice expanded, washing over Scootaloo, consuming her, holding her in place with her jittery pulse, warm and perspiring face, and slackly hanging jaw.
As the music cut out from the speaker, Sweetie Belle was standing almost directly over her, eyes set hard and confident. The microphones floated to the amp and Sweetie whispered, ”And you set me free.”
Scootaloo had to force herself to swallow several times before her throat worked. She murmured, “That wasn’t the song you sang for Rarity.”
“No.” Lifting Scootaloo’s chin with her hoof, Sweetie Belle leaned down and their lips met.
Scootaloo’s eyes fluttered shut. The filly instantly knew exactly what Twilight meant, exactly what she had felt when Rainbow Dash had first kissed her. Free of the panic at the park, Scootaloo’s mind, so frequently a jumble of letters and numbers that turned to a confusing mess of abstract and meaningless noise, became clear and silent as she held onto every sensation, every moment, every heartbeat.
Sweetie Belle slowly pulled back, sitting on her haunches and cupping Scootaloo’s face with her hoof. Her face was stained scarlet and a smile that looked as happy as Scootaloo felt pulled at her lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t do that in the park.”
Scootaloo touched the hoof on her face with one of her own, holding it in place and nuzzling into it. Sweetie Belle was so soft. “I’m sorry,” she whispered back, “I should’ve just asked you on a date. Kissin’ you out of the blue wasn’t fair.”
“I was so scared,” Sweetie murmured, “For a while, I’ve wanted…but I didn’t think you’d want to. You were so unsure at the sleepover when AB asked about crushes.”
Scootaloo let Sweetie’s limb fall from her face, but held it tightly in her hoof. “So, even back then? But you said—”
“Apple Bloom asked about colts,” she giggled. “We’ve always been close, Scoots, but…” Her eyes traced over Scootaloo’s face, a mix of warmth and trepidation in her gaze. “Every time I’m around you, I feel…I feel like you’re the only pony who really knows me. You know what it’s like when nopony in your life really has time for you, and you always make time. And you work so hard, Scoots, at everything. Even when it hurts to do it. You’re so brave and strong, and when I’m around you I have so much fun, an’ you make me better than I am.
“Even before we met AB, you made me climb outta myself. Remember how quiet I used to be? I was always so scared…”
“I remember,” Scootaloo murmured, her mind flashing back, past the thousand days in the clubhouse, to the cuteceañera where they had met Apple Bloom. When Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon set upon the earth filly for being a blank flank, Sweetie Belle had dived under a table to tremble. Scootaloo climbed under after her friend, soothed away the terror, and somehow Sweetie Belle had found the strength to leap to their future third member’s defense. “I remember how strong you were underneath how scared you were.”
Sweetie Belle closed her eyes and smiled. “You’re the only pony who thought I was strong…and I was only strong ‘cause of you.” Swallowing thickly, Sweetie Belle squeezed Scootaloo’s hoof and whispered, “I feel like I’m a better pony around you.”
Scootaloo’s face felt like it would rip apart from her smile. She pulled Sweetie Belle close, wrapping her hooves around the filly, feeling warmth spread through her chest from the contact, feeling delicate legs hold her back, smelling vanilla shampoo. “I feel like I’m a better pony around you. Nopony can listen like you. I never have to be anypony but myself with you. I don’t have to fight so hard when you’re there.”
Sweetie Belle sniffled and let out a long, shaky breath, nuzzling into Scootaloo’s neck. “I’m sorry I got scared again at the park. You make me not scared, but I…What will other ponies say?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nopony we care about will have a problem. Just look at Rainbow Dash and Twilight.”
“Yeah…” Sweetie didn’t sound convinced.
“Are…are you too scared? Do you not want—?”
“No,” she pleaded, hugging tighter. “I’m scared, but I-I don’t—No, this is too big to just forget about.”
“When you’re scared,” Scootaloo whispered, “I’ll be here for you.”
Sweetie Belle hugged tighter, nodding into Scootaloo’s shoulder. For a while, they sat and held each other, relishing the closeness both wanted, but had been afraid to find. Eventually, Sweetie Belle broke the comforting silence, asking, “What…what do we do now?”
“Well…” A wry smile spread across Scootaloo’s face as she held Sweetie Belle close. “We take it slow. See lots of movies, go on dates. Just hang out and be like best friends. We’ll be cool about it.” She sat back from the embrace to catch Sweetie Belle’s questioning eyes. “Whatever this is, whatever it could be, we have plenty of time to figure it out.” Her smile widened. “Years if we want ‘em. And if not, we’d have tried. But I really wanna try.” She touched her hoof to Sweetie’s face, still marveling at how soft the filly was in her powerful limbs. “Whaddya say? You wanna figure out what this is with me?”
Sweetie Belle sniffled, pressing into Scootaloo’s hoof. “I’d love to.” She leaned up and their lips met for the third time, still as bare and simple, still as special as the other times. She opened her eyes again. “Right now I wanna watch you fly.”
Scootaloo grinned and they stood, glancing around the little clubhouse. A thousand days and a thousand memories echoed warmly in the space, dancing, moving aside to make room for thousands more.
They cantered outside and climbed onto Scootaloo’s scooter, taking off towards the park.
Together.