Epilogue
Pinkie Pie bounded tirelessly through the park, scooping up fallen streamers in her mouth, folding and stacking chairs with effortless kicks, and collecting fallen plates and napkins on her back. The few party guests left were in the slow and directionless conversations of incredibly drunk ponies, preparing to leave but unsure exactly how to get their hooves to work just yet. Applejack had already left for the night after cleaning up the catering, and Fluttershy had to be told to go home after falling asleep on Pinkie’s shoulder. Rarity followed behind Pinkie, floating everything together in neat piles.
Twilight and Rainbow attempted to help, but found themselves slightly too stumbly to actually get anything done. Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle accomplished more, half-heartedly picking up the stray bit of garbage.
Rarity shoved a large, lumpy ball of plates and cups into a bin, sighing in satisfaction. She trotted up to the couple, both lost in some unfollowable train of drunken giggles. “I think we’re almost done with the clean-up, you two. I think it’s safe for you to head home.”
Rainbow shook her head to clear her vision. “You sure, Rares? We said we’d help…”
“You have been a wonderful help already, I assure you,” Rarity said, eyeing the single chair they had been struggling to fold up for several minutes, “But Pinkie and I have everything covered. Go home! This is your party anyway, you shouldn’t have to clean it up.” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle threw away their small loads of trash and turned to the three mares, unsure whether to continue cleaning or get ready to leave. Rarity frowned thoughtfully and dropped her voice. “Are you sure you want to take Sweetie for the night? You both have been drinking a bit heavily this evening.”
Rainbow scoffed, batting a hoof dismissively. “She’ll be fine. Those two never get into trouble. An’ I’m soberin’ up, anyway.”
Rarity looked unconvinced, but nodded gently. She darted her eyes around and leaned in, whispering, “They aren’t behaving because they’re misbehaving, if you catch my meaning, are they?”
Twilight’s eyes went wide as Rainbow snorted loudly, covering her mouth to contain her laughter. Twilight cleared her throat and briskly answered, “Absolutely not. They’re still in that puppy love stage. I, uh…” her face grew red, “I don’t think they’d know what to do, even if the thought had crossed their minds.”
“Yeah, Rarity,” Rainbow giggled, “What kinda house do you think we’re runnin’ here?”
Clearing her throat and straightening her mane, Rarity muttered, “Yes, well, they are both rather responsible, aren’t they? If Sweetie Belle won’t be any trouble…”
Scootaloo approached, raising an eyebrow. “What’re you guys talkin’ about?”
“Nothing!” Rarity chimed, turning back towards the remaining clean-up job. “Have a pleasant even—err, night, girls. I’ll see you in the morning, Sweetie, dear.”
“Night, sis!” Sweetie Belle called, falling in next to Scootaloo as they headed for the path back to town. Rainbow and Twilight took a stumbling lead, leaning against each other and giggling. Rainbow’s wing spread across Twilight’s back, rumpling her dress as they cantered.
“So, Scoots,” Rainbow called, slightly louder than necessary, “Didn’t get too bored, right?”
“Nah, it was fun,” she smirked, “It was cool to see everypony…” As they walked, Scootaloo’s smile fell and her eyes grew introspective. “…I didn’t see the Takers, though,” she murmured quietly.
Rainbow and Twilight straightened in their walk, some of the haze of alcohol tearing away from their minds. Twilight spoke evenly and controlled. “Well, they both sent a card and a gift ahead of time.”
Scootaloo grunted noncommittally.
Rainbow tentatively asked, “Would…did you want to see them?”
Shrugging, Scootaloo sighed. “I don’t know.”
Rainbow turned to Twilight in their close walk and a silent conversation passed across their eyes. They both nodded in tandem. Twilight turned back and smiled wanly at the fillies. “Let’s get home. How does some hot chocolate and another chapter of Daring Do and the Spear of the Windigos sound?”
Scootaloo nodded vigorously, before catching her fillyfriend’s blank expression. She smiled and murmured, “Mom’s been reading it out loud to me and mom sometimes.” Sweetie Belle smirked in amusement, rolling her eyes at Scootaloo’s sentence that somehow made perfect sense and no sense at all at the same time. Scootaloo leaned in and dropped her voice further. “Don’t laugh, she’s funny about it enough. She’s really good, though. You feel like you’re there.”
Sweetie Belle bit her lip and shook her head, but said nothing. They passed Town Square in silence, the soft clack of eight sets of hooves their only background noise. As they closed in on the library, Twilight opened the door in front of them and stepped forward, but Rainbow’s wing tightened and halted her progress. She turned to Rainbow with a confused expression. She grew more bewildered at her wife’s playful smile.
In a flash, Twilight was swept off the ground and onto her back, held effortlessly in Rainbow’s forelegs, flying a foot in the air. Rainbow smirked wickedly. “Gotta carry you over the threshold; it’s the rule.”
Twilight giggled and wrapped her hooves around her wife’s neck, nuzzling into the mare’s cheek. Rainbow floated gently through the door and set down noiselessly on her back legs, holding Twilight close. Twilight pulled back slowly and their eyes met.
Rainbow kissed her wife for all she was worth.
Sweetie Belle leaned close to Scootaloo and teasingly whispered, “Still wanna copy your mom?”
Scootaloo turned crimson.
Setting Twilight back on her hooves, Rainbow nuzzled her wife again. “Welcome home, Mrs. Twilight Sparkle.”
Twilight chuckled. “I’ll make some coffee, Mrs. Rainbow Dash.” She stepped back and muttered, “First I’m getting this dress off.”
As Twilight cantered to the kitchen, magic lifting and unzipping the garment as she moved, Rainbow eyed the desk and cleared her throat. “Hey, Scoots…” As her daughter approached, she opened her drawer, pushing her journals aside. She turned to the filly, her eyes set serious and tentative. “Let’s go up to your room for a minute…” Rainbow pulled the envelope from the drawer and tucked it under her wing. “…I got somethin’ to give ya.”
Scootaloo frowned in puzzlement and looked back at her fillyfriend. “Can Sweetie come?”
Shrugging, Rainbow headed slowly to the stairs. “It’s nothin’ bad, but it might be somethin’ you wanna keep private. Up to you.”
Sweetie Belle shrugged silently, offering Scootaloo to go on without her with a wave of her leg. Scootaloo shook her head and turned towards the stairs, beckoning the little unicorn with a flick of her tail.
Rainbow sat on the edge of Scootaloo’s rumpled bed, patting for her daughter to join her. When she spoke, her voice was low. “…When me and Twi’ took you home for the first time…” she opened her wing, dropping the letter into her hooves, “…Mrs. Taker asked us to give you this when you were ready. I haven’t read it…I think you’re old enough, you deserve to read it all on your own if you want to. And I think you’re ready for it now.” She reverently placed it in Scootaloo’s hooves and stood. “I’ll be downstairs if you wanna talk about it. But…that’s yours, an’ you can do whatever you want with it now.”
Rainbow bent low and kissed Scootaloo on the brow. She whispered, “I know you were really angry at her for a long time, an’ you had every right to be. But she’s just a pony, and ponies make mistakes. If you’re still angry, don’t do anythin’ with that that you can’t take back, okay?”
Scootaloo nodded slowly, her eyes glued on the letter in her hooves. “…I’m still a little angry.”
Rainbow hugged her daughter gently and kissed her brow again. “Me too.” She stood back and smiled sadly. “I’ll see ya downstairs.” She turned and left the room, shutting the door with a gentle click.
Sweetie Belle glanced around Scootaloo’s messy room, from the overstuffed bookshelves, to the clothes and sport equipment all over the floor, to the overflowing desk, trying to find something to focus on. Frowning, she cleared her throat. “Do you, uhh…d’you want me to go downstairs?”
Scootaloo shook her head resolutely and pulled her fillyfriend close, resting her head in Sweetie’s mane. She took a deep breath and pulled open the back of the envelope, sliding the letter out and laying it flat in her lap.
Dear Scootaloo,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I didn’t see that you were growing up. I’m sorry I got so wrapped up in what I normally see, the types of fillies and colts I normally take care of, to notice. When a pony gets old enough, they start falling into patterns, and I fell into one a long time ago.
You’re a smart filly, so I won’t talk down to you in this letter, like I did for so long. You deserve to know this, even if it can’t change anything now. I’m sure you remember some of the other foals that lived in my house with us over the years. Sometimes they were older than you, most of the time they were younger, but all of them came into your life and left quickly. I doubt you ever thought of them as your brothers or sisters, they were just other fillies and colts that lived in the same house.
At some point, that’s what they were to me, too.
It’s hard to be asked to open your heart up to a filly when you know a new mom and dad family is waiting for them, waiting to take them home and give them a new life. I took care of all of you, knowing someday you’d leave and find a home.
But as time went on, your home never came. You’re such a smart and happy filly, I don’t know why it took as long as it did. Maybe the fates saw Rainbow Dash and Twilight Sparkle and knew you belonged with them, and made life take a little longer than normal, just so you ended up where you were supposed to end up. I like that idea, and even if it isn’t true, I’m going to choose to believe it. Because a filly as wonderful as you deserves that to be true.
I forgot, Scootaloo. Now, I can’t believe that I did, but I did. I missed how long it had been, how long you’d been in my house, not as a foal passing through, but as a growing mare: somepony figuring out her place in the world and needing help and guidance to get there. For so long, I was never a mother to you, just a guardian, a name on a piece of paper to make sure you were looked after. I forgot that sometimes I needed to be more than that, and that as you got older what you needed wasn’t a guardian. You needed a mom. I could have been that for you if I noticed, but by the time I did, I think I was already too late. I had already hurt you.
I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t, not really, but maybe writing it down will get it out right. I don’t know how to express the idea that I had been blind to you, to who you are when you were right in front of me, hurting and looking for somepony to be there. I failed you, Scootaloo. I failed you, and I was too much of a coward to try and fix it in time.
It’s a downfall of all ponies who have gotten too old to really remember what it’s like to be twelve, to be growing into yourself, to have just found your cutie mark or still be looking for it. Time. Time bleeds away, and you don’t notice. I didn’t notice it going as you changed from a foal I was watching to a foal who needed me to be a mom, and I couldn’t hold onto it as I tried to think of how to tell you I was sorry.
I am sorry, Scootaloo. I’m sorry for what I’ve missed. What I could have been for you, and what I could have given you, if I only took the time to see it.
I won’t ask your forgiveness, because I don’t deserve it. I’m a silly old coward who hurt a beautiful, wonderful little filly, who is going to grow into a beautiful, wonderful mare and do great things with her life. I only hope that you understand.
If you ever want to talk, I’ll be here to listen. I spent too long not listening, and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. I know I’ve missed the chance to be a mom to you, but if you want, I will be a friend.
Your friend,
—Care
Scootaloo quietly folded the letter up, sliding it back inside the envelope. She let it drop to her lap and stared at it silently.
Sweetie Belle hugged her fillyfriend around the middle, nuzzling Scootaloo’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“…Yeah,” she answered quietly, hugging back.
“What’re you gonna do?”
“…I don’t know.”
They sat together, wrapped in each other’s hooves, letting the minutes draw out. Scootaloo closed her eyes and buried her face in Sweetie’s mane, smelling vanilla, trying to wash away her jumbled thoughts. She found herself gently kissing the top of Sweetie’s head, stroking the filly’s shoulders and back, drawing peace from the contact. Her mind gradually silenced. “…I’m still angry at her,” she whispered, “But I think maybe I don’t haveta be. I think maybe I can stop.”
Sweetie nodded into Scootaloo’s neck and strengthened her grip. Scootaloo heard a small sniffle from Sweetie and her brow furrowed. “You okay?” Sweetie Belle nodded too quickly. “What’s wrong?”
Sighing, the little unicorn sat back, the parting slow and reluctant. “I just…I got kinda caught up in being held by you.”
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.
She sighed again and kicked her hindlegs off the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor. “…We’ve been…dating for about four months now, right?”
Scootaloo turned, pressing her side into Sweetie and slinging a leg around her fillyfriend’s shoulder. “Yeah.”
“…That’s about as long as AB an’ Rumble lasted. Is…how much longer ‘til this goes away? Everypony keeps sayin’ we’re still just kids…I don’t want this to go away, Scoots.”
A quiet fell over the room as they sat together. Scootaloo gently turned to Sweetie Belle and raised her chin with a hoof. She closed her eyes and kissed the unicorn, the growing filly, the young mare, the pony on the cusp right alongside her, delicately soft, but strong and centered just beneath the surface. She pressed her forehead to Sweetie’s and opened her eyes. “Every time,” she murmured, “Every time I kiss you it feels just like the first one.”
“…What is this, Scoots?”
“...I’m still tryin’ to figure it out.” She kissed Sweetie Belle again. “I could spend the rest of my life tryin’ to figure it out.”
Sweetie Belle smiled, a small and contented smile, and hugged her fillyfriend. For a long and peaceful while, they held each other and ignored the world. Eventually they parted and silently stood.
Cantering out of Scootaloo’s room, they ventured downstairs and joined Twilight and Rainbow Dash sitting with their sides pressed together next to the flickering fire. “Need to talk?” Rainbow asked, glancing up from the Daring Do book propped open in her lap. Scootaloo shook her head, sitting down and leaning into Twilight’s side. Sweetie Belle snuggled into her shoulder.
They sipped their cocoa as Rainbow smirked dramatically. “Well then. Onto Daring Do.”
As she spoke, her energetic voice bringing excitement and power to the narrative, Scootaloo sat half transported to crumbling castles and fearsome dangers, and half rooted in the present. Despite Rainbow’s usual flair of recitation, she felt Sweetie’s breath slowly even out against her neck. She turned gently and watched her fillyfriend sleep against her.
Scootaloo’s eyes slowly trailed over the warm and familiar room, surrounded by the three most important ponies in her life. Mrs. Taker was right. Time was a funny thing. In less than a year, everything had been inescapably changed.
Twilight absentmindedly stroked Scootaloo’s mane with a hoof and the filly pressed more strongly into her mother, letting her gaze drift higher to the mantle. She stared at the portrait on the wall, grinning, lost in Rainbow’s words and her own thoughts, nestled into a warm body with a warm body nestled into her. Her gaze lingered on the portrait as her eyelids grew heavier and her mind gradually faded towards sleep.
Everything had changed forever, and Scootaloo couldn’t wait to see what the future could bring. But for the moment, not for the first time and not for the last time, she felt it.
At long, long last, Scootaloo was finally home.
(Image by Lostzilla, used with permission)
The End