II
Rainbow Dash flared her wings, her feathers twisting painfully as they caught the wind. She felt the contents of her belly jerk forward from the sudden stop, and her stomach lurched. She flew with jerky wingbeats to a small cloud and collapsed, shutting her eyes. She dragged herself up onto her haunches as bitter tears ran down her cheeks.
“Some promise.”
It had started well enough. A few days after the race, Rainbow got a letter delivered to her dorm room with an address, a time to meet, and the puckered semicircle print of a pink kiss. She grinned even as her cheeks burned, thinking about how much her timid girlfriend must have squeaked and mumbled buying lipstick, let alone actually working up the nerve to kiss the sheet of paper.
They had met in the park that Sunday, and every Sunday after that for a while, having picnics, going to movies, and being awkward at each other. For a long time Rainbow felt out of her element and exposed on the ground, and so many things confused and bored her. Everything was far too solid down with earth ponies and unicorns: when she crashed into stuff, it hurt. When she asked what the heck she’d hit, it would launch a twisting conversation about what something or other was made from, and suddenly she wanted to crash into it again instead of listen.
And Fluttershy was just as bashful as ever; the bravery she’d displayed after the race had evaporated, and she could barely look Rainbow in the eye without blushing. To Rainbow’s dismay, she couldn’t control her own body very well, squeaking and stammering, fumbling with her hooves. It went beyond an absence of cool and straight into lame territory.
Back at flight school, Rainbow had a different set of concerns. After the Sonic Rainboom, she found herself a local celebrity and she basked in the spotlight. Everypony looked to her, and it made her feel insanely cool.
A rueful smile cut through her tears as she reminisced. She had been so quick to bask in that spotlight again when given half the chance, leading her friends to concoct a fictional hero to show her how she was acting. It had been so easy to fall back into it, despite what it had cost the first time.
Everypony swarmed her in Cloudsdale: reporters, sports fans, science enthusiasts, history buffs, everypony everywhere needed to meet the filly who had broken the magic barrier, but as her pride swelled, a rising bubble of fear blossomed in the pit of her stomach.
No matter how hard she flew, she couldn’t do it again.
Rainbow drove herself harder and harder with each passing week, trying to replicate the feat. And every week, fewer ponies showed up to see her. She felt like an attraction at a zoo that just wasn’t bringing customers in anymore, and soon she was alone again just like before, except she didn’t have Fluttershy there. Fluttershy lived in Ponyville, and in their few precious hours together, they could hardly make eye contact.
“I can’t do this anymore, Fluttershy.”
“…Wh-what?”
Rainbow shut her eyes and grimaced as the words replayed in her head.
“It’s not working. You’re too far away all the time.”
“Y-you’re breaking up with me?”
Fluttershy’s voice was so quiet. Frail and brittle, like a pane of glass poured too thin, ready to spiderweb with the barest amount of pressure.
“…Still friends?”
Rainbow could still remember her best friend’s—her first girlfriend’s—face, twisted to pain and sadness. Fluttershy wasn’t angry with her. Rainbow had seen that same look countless times: Fluttershy blamed herself. Another moment Fluttershy could hold up as evidence of her personal failure.
The same look when a bully mocked her. And it was Rainbow’s fault.
She had broken her promise.
Clenching her jaw, Rainbow wiped at her face and flew back across town. Fluttershy’s house stood in front of her again. She trotted up to the bright red door and knocked.
The top half swung in and Fluttershy blinked at her. “Oh…Hi, Rainbow Dash.”
“H-hi.” She pinned her ears back. “Can I come in?”
A waver of ambivalence and hope warred across Fluttershy’s features. After a moment, she said, “Okay.” She pulled open the lower half of the door and Rainbow trotted inside.
Standing awkwardly in her…friend’s living room, spinning in place to see all the gilded cages, scratching posts, and rodent tubes lining the walls, uneasiness dug its way back into the pit of Rainbow’s stomach. Fluttershy sat down on the couch and stared forward with a controlled blankness. Rainbow scratched the back of her neck.
“…Why are you here, Rainbow?”
She looked down at the floor, warring with herself, wanting to be bold. The look of pain on the younger version of Fluttershy’s face flashed through her mind, and her resolve crumbled. “I just wanna talk.”
Fluttershy swept a hoof through her mane and studied Rainbow’s face. A bit of the stoniness left and a weak smile bloomed on her lips. “…I was about to make some tea. I still have some beers in the fridge, do you want one?”
Rainbow nodded automatically. As Fluttershy stood and headed into the kitchen, she followed behind and muttered to herself, “Coward.”
Taking her customary seat at the table, she watched her friend fill a cup with already steaming water and pull a dark bottle from the fridge. The beer hissed as she popped off the cap, and she took her seat, sliding the bottle to Rainbow’s waiting hoof. Rainbow tipped it back and smiled despite herself: Fluttershy had her tongue stuck out in concentration as she bobbed the tea bag up and down in the water.
So many little things that always drew a smile to her face. Fluttershy looked up and Rainbow’s smile grew. Whenever Fluttershy made tea, she always stuck out her tongue, and whenever Rainbow was around, she would flinch halfway through and look up like she’d been caught doing something wrong.
Fluttershy grinned at her and set the tea bag on the saucer. In their shared smile, Rainbow found herself thinking again.
It had started again with that same smile.
Pinkie Pie tackled her to the floor of Sugarcube Corner. “We all owe our cutie marks to you!”
Rainbow blinked at Pinkie, still trying to take in the revelation her friends were sharing. As Pinkie stepped back, she pulled herself to half prone before Fluttershy smiled at her. “Do you realize what this means?”
Rainbow froze in place at that smile and couldn’t bring herself to climb back to her hooves.
“All of us had a special connection before we even met!”
Her forelegs shook as Fluttershy loomed over her; her heart thundered like she’d just won that race. As she opened her mouth, Rarity leaned in and broke her train of thought. “We’ve been BFFs forever and we didn’t even know it!”
Rainbow grinned awkwardly at her friends as they crowded around.
Applejack stepped forward. “C’mere, y’all!”
Rainbow felt herself pulled to her hooves and hugged by all her friends. Her grin turned heartfelt and genuine in their embrace as the reality of what that day had meant to them all, including herself, at last sunk in. Scootaloo made retching noises as an impromptu party whirled to life, lasting for hours and bringing Rainbow closer to the five ponies in her life than she had ever felt. The strange moment with Fluttershy fled to the back of her mind, until the night wound down and she prepared to go home. Fluttershy stopped her just outside the bakery.
Rainbow yawned and scanned the sky, searching out the top of her cloud home in the distance. She asked in a bored and tired tone, “What’s up, Fluttershy? It’s getting kinda late.”
Fluttershy fell into pace a few steps behind her as she meandered into the dusk. Watching Rainbow, Fluttershy cleared her throat. “It’s funny how we never talked about the Sonic Rainboom, isn’t it? We got caught up in…everything else.”
Rainbow froze mid-step. She turned and gave Fluttershy her whole attention. Just like hours before, she became aware of Fluttershy again in a different way, a way that was both brand-new and wholly familiar. “…There was a lot of other stuff, huh?”
Fluttershy giggled and her heart started thumping again. A wild series of thoughts passed over her mind: this subject had been buried years before, they had been nothing more than friends, she hadn’t thought about ‘them’ in ages. What had changed? Why did she feel like a filly again?
“Do you ever…think about ‘us’?”
Rainbow nodded. As she did, she knew she wasn’t even lying. Fluttershy stepped closer and Rainbow could smell her shampoo.
“It’s been great to get to know you again, Rainbow. If there was anything I regret about leaving flight school, it was what it did to our friendship.”
Rainbow swallowed a lump in her throat.
Their eyes met and Fluttershy looked away, color staining her cheeks. Despite the waves of nerves spilling off Fluttershy’s body, she whispered, “…Do you ever think about trying again?”
Rainbow closed her eyes as a dam broke somewhere inside. She stepped forward and nuzzled Fluttershy’s cheek, her action rough enough to make the blushing mare stumble back. Fluttershy regained her footing and giggled. She returned the affection and they tottered away from Sugarcube Corner together, their steps punch-drunk and careless.
The sun had long since set when they reached Fluttershy’s home, sides pressed close and visions obscured by each other’s manes. Fluttershy’s hoof caught on a rock as they crossed the small bridge, and she tumbled forward with a squeak. Rainbow’s forelegs flashed out and caught her before she landed on her face. “Th-thanks.” Rainbow hovered up a foot while holding her around the middle, and she snaked around in their sudden embrace to stare into Rainbow’s eyes. “…I missed this,” she whispered. “I missed how safe you make me feel.” Fluttershy wrapped her hooves around Rainbow’s neck and kissed her.
Rainbow landed blind, hugging Fluttershy to her chest, kissing back, a filly again, but still a mare aware of the heat radiating into her chest from a trembling coat and hummingbird heartbeat.
It was fast, probably too fast, that Rainbow carried Fluttershy up her stairs to her bed, still locked in a kiss. Rainbow settled Fluttershy on the sheets and crawled on top of her, lost in her eyes and quickened breaths. “P-please be gentle,” Fluttershy whispered.
“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” Her voice cracked; she realized she hadn’t spoken a word since Fluttershy had asked if she’d thought about ‘them,’ too caught up in her stumbling hooves and emotions. The words were strange to her own ears, a fog of time rendering the déjà vu foreign and intangible.
She kept her promise then, and over many nights of gentle lovemaking, the awkward courting of their fllyhoods replaced by passion and giddy joy. A whirlwind of days and weeks bringing them closer.
The photo on her dresser wasn’t taken long after that first night.
Fluttershy took a sip of her tea as Rainbow swallowed a mouthful of beer. “So,” Fluttershy asked, “what did you want to talk about?” She looked away, her eyes trailing over the countertops, searching for something to hold her focus. “It’s not been that long, but are you ready to try again?”
Rainbow studied Fluttershy as she nursed her drink. That little grin. The way Fluttershy’s muzzle crinkled when she sipped her tea. So many little things that always drew a smile to Rainbow’s face.
Rainbow frowned.
“Fluttershy, I think we should break up.”
The grin melted away, replaced by stony ambivalence. She took another sip and looked down at the table, the barest hint of annoyance edging into her voice. “We are on a break, Rainbow. What’s to break up?”
“I think we should break up for good.” Fluttershy started and looked at her with questioning eyes. She swallowed down the feeling of guilt and continued. “No more of this ‘on again, off again’ stuff. It’s not working, Fluttershy. We’ve tried, but it’s just not working.”
A thick silence stretched out through the kitchen as they stared at each other. As Rainbow’s beer warmed and her tea cooled, Fluttershy at last sat back in her seat, sighing. “Why do this now?”
Rainbow grimaced. “I don’t know.”
Fluttershy sighed again, rubbing her temples. “Of course you don’t know.” She dropped her hooves to the table. “So that’s it? Two and half years…” she shook her head, “…fifteen years of trying, and no reason? How can you not have a reason?”
Rainbow looked down at her beer. She took a long swig, wrinkling her snout at the warmth, and set it back on the table. One of her hindlegs bounced with nervous energy. “It’s ‘cause I still love you and I keep trying to make it work.”
Fluttershy’s expression softened for a moment, but then re-hardened. She drained the rest of her cup. “I still love you, too, Rainbow. So why should we stop? We should try harder.”
“It’s not enough, okay?!” Rainbow barked. She blinked and sat back in her seat, dropping her voice. “It’s not enough that we love each other if we can’t make it work.”
They sat in silence, looking everywhere but at each other. Rainbow finished her beer in the quiet and rose automatically, carrying the empty and Fluttershy’s cup to the sink. She rinsed out the bottle and shoved it in the bin to go back for the two bit return refund, before washing the cup and saucer. After loading them into the drainer, she returned to the table.
Fluttershy watched her the whole time. She stole glances at Fluttershy’s expression. The old hurt, the same broken promise, was there, but it was buried underneath a hardness. As she looked, Rainbow’s resolve twisted and squirmed. When she took her seat, she studied her hooves instead of that face.
“I can’t believe you’re just giving up.”
Rainbow felt her blood pressure jump, but she willed herself calm. No need to leave another imprint in the door. “We’re just going in circles.”
“But we love each other.”
Rainbow closed her eyes. “I know we do,” she whispered.
Fluttershy’s voice dropped in volume, the edge replaced by exhaustion. “I’ve loved you for years. I…I never really stopped, even when we were fillies.”
Rainbow inhaled through her snout and rubbed her face. “It…it doesn’t matter. We have two good months, three bad weeks, break up, get back together, do the same thing, over and over again. I mean…what even started it this time?”
“The knitting.”
Sighing and rolling her eyes, Rainbow slumped back in her chair. “I know it was the knitting, but what the heck reason is that to break up? Why’d it get to be such a big deal?”
A reproachful tint entered Fluttershy’s tone. “You tell me.”
“Ugh.” She snorted. “That damn clicking; I thought I was gonna pull out my mane.” She shuddered and shook her head. “It’s always stuff like that. I kicked the damn door ‘cause I apparently ‘burp too much.’”
Fluttershy shook her head and looked out the window. “It was after every meal and you knocked pictures off the walls.”
“Heh, yeah.” Rainbow’s chuckle died when Fluttershy glared at her. She cleared her throat and turned away. “It’s always so stupid. On both sides.” She shot a pointed look at Fluttershy, who nodded with some reluctance. “Everything just…boils over. All the time.” She let out a long breath, her volume dropping again. “Are you really happy with this?”
Fluttershy’s gaze grew introspective. “…No, not really. Most of the time, anyway.” A pall of sadness fell over her face. “But when it’s good I am.” She hung her head and closed her eyes. “…More than anything. I’m never happier than I am with you.”
Rainbow’s heart throbbed and she drooped to match. “…Me, too.”
Wiping at her eyes, Fluttershy looked back up. “Is…is this really it? Do you really want to stop?”
Rainbow couldn’t lift her head as she scanned the wood grain of the table. The deafening stillness stretched out again. Her voice quivered when she finally answered. “No.” Before Fluttershy could answer, she straightened up and forced out, “But what I want isn’t enough, Fluttershy. We’re just so…bad for each other. I don’t get why you love me. All I do is hurt you.”
Fluttershy’s expression turned to granite again. “I love you because you make me feel more than I am.” She stood up and stomped to the sink, putting the dried cup and saucer away in a cabinet. “I’m always so scared unless you’re there, and when you are it feels like I don’t have to be. I can be more than some little scaredy-filly who can hardly fly when you’re around. I can feel safe and just be myself with you, and I know I always will.” The anger left her voice. “At least, when it’s good it feels like that.”
Rainbow stared wide-eyed at Fluttershy as she returned to the table. The hurt was gone and Fluttershy only looked sad. Sad and tired. Fluttershy mumbled, “You’re so different than me, and I feel like I can be a bit more like you, even when I am scared.”
Rainbow swallowed to moisten her throat. She blinked rapidly and looked away. “I’m…it’s…it’s cool that I can do that for you.”
A wry grin pulled at Fluttershy’s lips, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. “It’s probably frustrating for you. If I’m being honest…” she chewed her lip and looked away again, “I don’t know what you see in me.”
Rainbow looked Fluttershy over. The last of her resolve tore away, and she wanted nothing more than to hold Fluttershy in her hooves, kiss the pony she loved, cry into her mane and whisper promises to never hurt her again.
But the question rooted her in place.
“…I don’t know.”
They stared at each other until the grandfather clock in the living room chimed. Fluttershy stood with unease. “I have to go—”
“—Feed the animals, I know.”
Fluttershy hesitated for a moment, before trotting to the refrigerator. She took a second beer out, popped off the cap, and left it for Rainbow. She cantered outside without saying another word. Rainbow sipped her beer and stared at the table.
It had once ended with a beer, too.