//------------------------------// // Scootaloo's accident // Story: A Miscalculation Gone Cute. // by Night--Mist //------------------------------// As Scootaloo slept, her dream consisted of flying around with her now-baby sisters on her back, just having fun. That was the scene...at first. Then, it changed dramatically. Next minute, she found herself back in the orphanage, to her horror. "What?! N-no, no! I'm not supposed to be here!" Scootaloo gulped hard after a hoof grabbed her shoulder. "Yes, you are. You're right where you belong, troublemaker," said an orphanage caretaker behind the scared out-of-her-mind filly. Hoof off her shaking body, Scootaloo swiveled around to see not a glimmer of mercy in the so-called caretaker's eyes. "But...but I was adopted!" Scootaloo tried to convince them, begging on her knees. "Adopted?! Ha! Don't make us laugh, runt! Nopony in their right mind wants you," a second caretaker commented before stepping out the shadows to stand next to her fellow orphanage-runner. "No...no! This can't be happening! I'm adopted, I'm adopted, I'm adopted!!!" Scootaloo screamed before they forced her into another room. Topaz...was there. The most cruel pony of the workers had her sights set on Scootaloo. Appearing sweet to most outside the orphanage walls, but...that mare was pretty fake in the caring department. Grinning, Topaz motioned for Scootaloo to come forward. She followed the order, only because she would face, surprisingly, more severe consequences if she disobeyed. "And, for making such lies, you deserve punishment," Topaz brought out a clothing accessory that sent fear down the bodies of every filly and colt cursed to be in the orphanage. She always had a belt hoofy at all times. And, used it...regularly. Scootaloo whimpered, knowing that pain would meet her soon. Then, as the belt came down towards Scootaloo's flank... Spitfire woke up, not only to the sound of her oldest child screaming, but to both foals also awakening. She turned to Soarin, and shook him like crazy, not-very-gently rousing the stallion from sleep. Soarin asked groggily to Spitfire, "What's wrong, honey?" Spitfire waited in aggravation until Soarin heard the sounds of the foals, then pointed to the crib after he finally understood. After a quick nod, Soarin got out of bed while Spitfire rushed through the air to Scootaloo's room. She landed softly, then walked over to her crying filly. "Scootaloo, what happened? You alright, sweetie?" Spitfire asked in a worried tone. Scootaloo glanced up at her mother, then wrapped her hooves around the mare's neck, sobbing. "Oh, Spitfire! I'm s-so s-sorry! I...I didn't m-mean to w-wake up D-Dashie and D-Dusty," Scootaloo managed to get out before returning to her weeping. Spitfire said softly, nuzzling her daughter gently throughout, "Sshhh, sshhh. Everything's okay, baby. You were just having bad dream is all. Now, tell me what happened in this nightmare?" Scootaloo explained her dream, and how realistic it had been. Apparently, the orphanage did a whole lot more than what other ponies had been told by gossip. Spitfire was now in a state of both rage and sympathy: rage, from the orphanage workers mistreating the children they were supposed to protect, and sympathy for Scootaloo still fearing their wrath, even though they couldn't harm her ever again. "Shhhh, shhhh. They can't do anything damaging to you again, my precious daughter. Soarin and I are your parents now, and will protect you from all danger," Spitfire promised while wiping the tears away from the filly's face. Spitfire was getting the part of being a mother down quickly. Scootaloo calmed down with Spitfire's reassuring words, and soon moved a bit closer. As she did though, her attention became directed to a wet spot on her flank. Scootaloo looked down at the bed, the moon's light revealing why she felt damp. "Oh, no," Scootaloo said as she hung her head in shame. "What's wrong, Scoots?" Spitfire asked. "I'm...sorry, mom. I...have wet the bed. But, I...I didn't mean to, honest! I've been trying hard not to, but-", Scootaloo was cut off by a hoof over her mouth. "It's fine, sweetheart. They're just sheets. Can be easily washed. Many fillies and colts your age have this same exact issue. It's nothing out-of-the-ordinary or to be embarrassed about. To tell you the truth...", Spitfire stops talking real quick, then glimpses into the her own bedroom to be sure the little ones and Soarin weren't listening. Once Spitfire felt unheard, she continued, "...I had the same problem when I was your age, but I didn't let it get the best of me. I sometimes used it to my advantage." "R-really? H-how did ya do it?" Scootaloo asked in puzzlement. Spitfire whispered into Scootaloo's ear, shocking the filly a tad at what she heard. "You did that?!" Scootaloo inquired in awe. "Mmm-hmm. And, I won't be surprised if you want to try it in the future," Spitfire said happily. "Does Soar...I mean, dad know?" Scootaloo questioned with much curiosity. "Of course he does! I don't hold any secrets from him. Plus, he found it cute that I did something like that, so he wouldn't be surprised if you try it either," Spitfire responded. "Well...I'm sorry, but this is one of the things the orphanage punished me for," Scootaloo said with ears back. Spitfire was seriously appaled that the orphanage punished Scootalo for accidents, which she had no control over. "No apology needed, Scootsy. The orphanage should not have been able to do such a thing! Neither I, nor Soarin, will ever hurt you!" Spitfire vowed. "Y-you...called me Scootsy," Scootaloo blushed at the nickname, finding it too foalish for anypony except her parents and a select few to call her by. "Yes. Do you not like it? I won't call you it again if there's a problem," Spitfire didn't wish to annoy her daughter. "No, I like it! It's just...nopony but Rainbow Dash has referred to me by that before," Scootaloo stated while rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "Well, you're my daughter, so it seemed appropriate to call you something close to your actual name, yet more adorable-sounding, every once in a while," Spitfire admitted with a grin. Just...not around other ponies aside from our family, okay?" Scootaloo said the deal. "Deal," Spitfire agreed, sealing the agreement by hoof-bumping with her daughter. The two hugged for a bit before Spitfire left the room for a second. Rummaging through the bag, Spitfire said with eyes on another task, "Now, how about we get you in some protection for tonight, so you don't have another accident, alright? Then, you can sleep with me and your dad tonight." "Wait...you're gonna make me wear...a diaper?", Scootaloo asked as the word 'protection' crossed her mind. "Just for tonight, sweetie. Don't worry, though. Tomorrow, we'll go to the store to pick up some nighttime pull-ups meant for fillies of your age. Truthfully, your records said nothing about you having trouble with this at night, so mommy's a bit...unprepared. Anyways, just come over here, and I'll get it on you as fast as possible," Spitfire said, motioning Scootaloo to a mat she just laid out. Scootaloo would've tried persuading her mother against the action, but Spitfire's logic was pretty sound. So...she agreed, down on the mat within seconds. After Spitfire cleaned her daughter up, she applied everything necessary to make sure Scootaloo didn't get a rash if another accident occured while sleeping. She taped the diaper onto Scootaloo's flank once finished with the slightly embarrassing process. "Luckily, your flank isn't much bigger than the foals, or that would've been an uncomfortable tight fit. So, how does it feel?" Spitfire said calmly, though couldn't help her mental cooing at the too cute sight. "Kind of weird," Scootaloo stated. "Well, let's get to bed now. And, tomorrow's Saturday, so more time with me if you want," Spitfire informed her daughter. "I think I would like that Spit-er, mom," Scootaloo said excitedly, even if she had just screwed up, in her own opinion, by calling her mother by her actual name. Spitfire chuckled at the insignifcant mistake, then lifted Scootaloo from the mat onto her back. Walking swiftly, Spitfire was back into her own room within record time. Ten seconds flat to be exact. Soarin was sitting on the bed, currently rocking both foals back to sleep. Spitfire smiled warmly at the scene, and put Scootaloo under the covers gently before checking in on her own husband. Soarin's eyes suggested he could fall asleep at any given moment. Spitfire, with a soft touch, eased the foals from his hooves, allowing Soarin to ungracefully hit the sack. Spitfire, having descended into bed via wings, set the two pleasatly-dreaming foals down between Scootaloo and herself. Her wing spread out, wrapping itself around her three daughters, giving the mother enough motion to give each child a kiss on the forehead. Scootaloo soon nodded off to dreamland, feeling completely safe in her mother's warm embrace. Spitfire felt joy at motherhood before her eyes closed for the rest. With her last seconds of consciousness, she whispered, "Mommy loves you all with all of her heart."