We'll Meet Again

by unipie


Chapter One: Baby Steps

We'll Meet Again
By
littlepiegirl






Chapter One: Baby Steps

Why must I be here?

Of all the places to intentionally abandon your daughter for a set period of time – this was the only fitting solution? Whoever owned the place didn’t have ounce of style – or a duster for that matter. It was positively suffocating. Coughing on years of grime however, didn’t discourage me from the fact that the curtains didn’t go with the wallpaper, a picture was askew and don’t even mention the potential germs I could’ve caught from that old sofa. Now that I think about it, the dust tired up the room’s look just superbly.

Was Mother punishing me? All I wanted was to see how my new sibling was doing, but no, I was confined to this prison. However, I knew for certain no dashing stallion would come to my aid. Oh, if only. Sadly, I couldn't hear the hoofsteps of my rescuer, but just those of my parents as they were led away by the nurse pony. I’m sure they could still hear my thumps and shouting through the door.

“Mother, come back. I want to come too!”

I tried to look through the blurred glass pane, but it was too high for me to reach. Jumping a couple of times for good measure was of no use either. I was only a small filly after all. My height was better suited for the small letter box built into the wooden door. Poking my mussel out, I called for her again. As I looked through my new peep hole, she turned down the hallway, not giving me even a sideways glace. Thanks Mother, so caring as usual. I called again.

Nopony answered – just silence.

“Will ya pipe down? I’m tryin' t' read my mags.” The pony in the reception to the left shouted at me.

She was plump with a green coat and red mane. The mare’s eyes were narrow and menacing through her red glasses, as she stared. I gazed back for a moment before diverting my eyes. Nervous, I proceeded to walk further into the room, only glancing back at the magazine the receptionist was reading.

I recognised the actor stallion on the cover from the soap operas my mother liked. Only last week was he in a loving relationship, before then running off with another mare. Mother liked those kinds of stories. I didn't particularly. I much preferred it when the mare and stallion lived happily-ever-after.

Walking in, I saw the room was a lot larger than I first thought. Collections of toys and games were piled high all around, like a plastic jungle. The carpet was unseen by a toy blanket, so I trod lightly, trying not to trip. At the back of the room was a soft play area complete with a slide. Although the colours and different fabrics tempted me, I wasn’t one for “physical” play time. I was more of a, say we say, creative mind.

Since I was the only filly present, I had pick of the toys. I scanned round for a sewing machine or even a place to draw, but in the sea of alphabet blocks and sound phones it was hard to find a simple pencil and paper. I searched in a couple of piles, kicking away toys as I went, but nothing struck me as interesting. Defeated, I sighed, heading over to a beanbag in the far corner. I could just take a nap.

My spirits were soon lifted, as my chosen nap spot was accompanied by a small, hidden, reading area. I clopped my hooves in delight and approached, trying not to topple a game tower or two. Perhaps I could read a wonderful fairy tale or romance novel until my mother returned. Oh, how I hoped they had the one about the mare with the long, flowing mane that got rescued from the tower. Mareunzel? I couldn't remember the name exactly.

Reaching the book case, I started to examine the hundreds of novels. Dazzled by the volume of sections and authors; I had no idea where to look. Mother usually bought my books. In confusion, I placed a hoof to my chin and my eyes followed to the top shelf. Then, I saw one with a charming pink spine and stood back to get a closer look.

No surprise that I became overwhelmed with despair when my poor magic skills were unable to lift it down. I tried again, but only the tiniest, blue spark flickered from my horn. I was not good with magic and it irritated me so. Even unskilled unicorns could use a levitation spell, which I’d never succeeded at. I didn’t even have a cutie mark, and I had no idea what my talent could be. What good is a unicorn that can’t perform magic? At least I always knew it wasn't my talent.

I stomped my hoof in annoyance, before seeing another book at my height. The Princess and the Pea. What a strange title for a story, I chuckled softly to myself. It said it has a princess, so naturally I presumed I would like it.

I reached for the blue book and slid it off the shelf. There was a picture of a beautiful mare lying on a dozen mattresses. I gave a wide smile, not at the strangeness of the picture, but at the gorgeous princess in her gown. It made me envious to say the least.

Looking up for the slightest moment, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. A pair of green eyes were gawking at me through the gap on the shelf. Curse the pony who left a toy cart laying near my hoof. I stumbled backwards, letting out a girlish squeak in shock. Not only tripping on that accursed toy cart, but also falling into a ridiculously high stack of board games.

I went on to be battered and prodded as games continued to cascade down on me. I tried to get up, but the weight of my saddlebags, plus the games, ensured I was pinned down. At times like these, I wish I wasn’t such a wimpy, small filly. Seeing only darkness, I started flailing my hoofs in an attempt to remove the debris. Just as I was about to scream for help, I was cut off by a comforting voice with a strange accent.

“Sweet apple sauce! Don’t worry I’ll getcha outta there,” it said.

I felt a hoof locking with mine, pulling me from my impending, cardboard doom. When finally upright, I rubbed my eyes to reveal my saviour. It was filly about my age with an orange coat and the most beautiful blonde mane. Well, it had the potential to be beautiful, if she had not had it in a pony tail. What a crime against fabulosity!

“I’m awful sorry. Didn’t mean t’ scare ya,” whimpered the filly. I was still in a complete daze and just stared at her for longer than I should. Say something Rarity!

“Oh… It’s quite alright. I didn’t realise somepony else was in here,” I croaked, kicking away that ruddy toy cart. I bet that display had looked "elegant".

“Well, I was jus’ sittin’ here readin'.” She began, as I looked at her small book fortress. “That’s why I was bein' all quiet like.”

“You like to read too?” I whinnied in delight. Not many of my friends liked reading. Not that I had many friends to begin with. Hopefully, she liked fairy tales like me. She shrugged, turning back towards her book. Sheepishly, I followed.

“Not really, but I do like this here story.” She pointed to the page she was reading. A dashing earth stallion, wearing what appeared to be boots, a duster coat and a Stetson hat was shown standing in the middle of a dusty town. “Buck Eastwood.”

“Buck Eastwood? I’ve never heard of it unfortunately,” I answered looking puzzled, but curious.

“It’s an adventure story bout’ a sheriff that lives in the west. It’s real excitin’.” I just nodded along as the filly shared her love for the literary character. “What’s best is that it’s all adventure, not o’ that lovey stuff.”

I frowned. “What’s wrong with a bit of romance?” I guess she didn’t respect the classics like Mareunzel.

“Oh, nothin’, jus’ they don’t seem real t’ me. Nopony has a romance like that in real life.”

“But …” I went to interject, but then thought about the filly’s remark. When was the last time somepony got rescued from a tower by a wonderful stallion? Never. I guess I always liked to have my head in the clouds.

“I suppose you’re right, but it does happen to some ponies. What about your mother and father? I bet they are very much in love?” The filly grinned at me and I smiled awkwardly back.

“Well, of course they are. They’re havin’ another baby after all. That’s why I’m waitin’ in here.” She sat down, offering me the beanbag, but I insisted she take it. “I’m gonna get a new brother or sister!”

I lay down next to her. “Really? Mummy is having a baby too,” I gasped, wiggling my hooves in excitement.

“Mummy?” the filly scoffed. Why did I act like such a foal? My eyes widened, as I came to the realisation of my words.

“M-Mother … Mother, I mean to say –” I tried to hide my blush “– that’s why I’m waiting in this room also. I desperately wanted to go with her, though. However, she’s not due for some time. She’s getting a scan. But, she just left me here in this play room. Just look at it, it’s dreadful!”

“I know. I heard ya hollerin’ bout' it through the door fourteen times,” she said flatly.

I offered up another smile. I didn’t want her to think I was snooty; clearly I was painting a horrendous first impression.“W-Well, it’s obviously better now that I have your company.”

The filly chuckled kindly. “Thanks. And ya also have the company of ma brother,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“Your brother?” The filly pointed towards the soft play area with a hoof. A crimson form was just noticeable, buried in the ball pit sea. The outline of colours raising and falling with the colt’s chest.

“That’s him there. Can ya believe it? Sleepin’ in a ball pit!” I giggled; obviously the siblings had ongoing feuds. Oh, how I couldn’t wait to have a feud with my new sibling. I know it’s a strange thing to wish for, but I didn’t mind. “I’m kinda glad you’re here too, McIntosh ain’t exactly the most excitin’ company.”

I tried to contain my goddess awful snort as I laughed. How I despised the unladylike habit.

“That’s kind of you to say, but I’m sure your brother is not bad company at all.” I grinned. “He just looks … tired.”

The filly's smile wavered into a look of concern. She shifted on the beanbag, making it squelch with a crinkling sound. “Well, we have been in here fer hours. I think somethin’s wrong with my ma. I don’t wanna worry none, but nopony has come t' check on us. Sept’ for that receptionist pony tellin’ us t' 'shut our pie holes.'”

Just thinking of that mare made me grimace. “I know, she isn’t the most forthcoming pony I’ve ever met, that’s for sure,” I said sternly. Placing my reassuring hoof on the filly's shoulder, she smiled weakly. Great, she doesn’t think I’m weird. Thank, Celestia! “I’m sure everything is fine my dear, things always turnout well in the end.”

My efforts to console the orange filly weren’t having the best results. I was probably the last pony she wanted to talk to about the matter. Who would want to receive help from the pony who can’t even find her way out from under a cardboard box? Or several for that matter!

She eventually replied, “I wanna believe ya. But, I just got this gut feelin’ somethin’ ain’t right.”

“B-but, what does your heart tell you?” I pleaded, moving my hoof to over her chest. The filly backed away, looking baffled. Perfect, now she really did think I was a cretin. Me and my sappy drivel.

“I-I guess I don’t really think like that,” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “But Ma’s tough! She can pull the zap apple cart and Pa’s plough at the same time. Ugh, well, cept’ that one time Granny decided to jump on the back o’ it and …”

Watching the filly talk so fondly of her family was absorbing. It was like all manner of happiness returned upon their mention. Their bond made me realise how envious I was, but also how mind-numbingly dull my own parents were.

Eat your carrots, Rarity.

Brush your teeth, Rarity.

Look at my stamp collection, Rarity.

Never, let’s have the whole family over and have fun, Rarity!

Now, don’t get me wrong, I do love them very much so. But there is only so many times one can visit a train museum before wanting to gouge your own eye out with a spoon. After she was done explaining about her Grandmother hopping around in a bunny suit I changed the topic.

“So, do you have any idea what we can do to past the time?” I asked politely.

The filly looked around for inspiration. “Hmm, well, ain’t cha’ got somethin’ in your saddle bag?” She pointed a hoof to my side.

“Oh, yes, I completely forgot.” I blushed, remembering only minutes ago it was a contributor to my near cardboard demise. Mother had packed it for me before leaving for the hospital. I guess it was foreshadowing the fact I was going to be left in this "play room". I should have seen it coming. How gullible.

Lifting the flap, I looked inside. “Let’s see, well there’s …” Please say mother had packed a nice lunch or a lovely game, or maybe a … wait? “… a Truly Terrific Trains magazine!”

You have got to be kidding me? That’s strike two for you, Mother!

The filly smirked. “Ugh … fascinating.”

Oh, for the love of Prance imported silk! I wanted to dig my way into the grubby carpet and pull the lumps over the top.

“Oh, n-no,” I spluttered. “That’s my father's. How did that get in there?” The uncomfortable laughter wasn’t wining her over. I face-hoofed. I’m sure some cats had less social awkwardness than me.

Before I could destroy my self-respect further, she spoke again. “Well, if trains don’t bake your cake, how bout’ airplanes?”

“Excuse me?” What was the filly was going on about? I was more astounded she hadn’t turned on her hooves and ran for the nearest exit.

She took the magazine in her hooves, flicking through its many colourful (but extremely boring) pages. “Your pa don’t need this no more, I’m guessin’?”

I shook my head. Celestia, please, that thing needed to be condemned.

“Perfect.” She smiled, giving me a wink. “Jus’ watch this right here.”

I know that I said that magazine should’ve been destroyed, but I didn’t mean it literally. Giving a forceful yank, the filly ripped one of the pages from its binding. I gave a small “eep” as she started fiddling with the paper. Once she presented her work, I beamed in awe.

The paper was folded to perfection into the shape of an airplane. Balancing the "plane" in her hoof, she stared towards the play area across from where we stood. With narrowed eyes and a tongue protruding from her mouth, she brought back her hoof and cast it. The plane sailed gracefully across the width of the room, before crashing down near the ball pit.

“Wow!” I squealed, clopping my hooves in applause. “How did you do that?”

“You never made a paper airplane before?” she retorted.

“I guess not,” I whispered. I must have been the least fun filly in the history of Equestria.

“Here, I’ll show ya. Just rip out this here page an’ I’ll tell ya how t' fold it.” Hesitant, I tore out a page; I beamed as it gave satisfying rip. Yes, take that tedious trains!

The filly took my hooves in her own, showing me where to fold, before re-enacting her throwing stance. I cast my own plane, but it didn’t fly nearly as far or with as much poise. Spiraling out of control, it slammed against the reception's glass.

“Whatcha doin’ in there!” the receptionist’s voice growled. Oh, pony feathers. I dipped down behind a tower of games, praying she wouldn’t come out.

The filly barked a laugh. “Guess ya need t’ work on that aim o’ yours.” She took another page in her hoof. “Watch this,” she giggled.

She launched another plane. I didn’t realise what she was aiming for until it fell a few feet short from the crimson blob of her brother, still asleep in the ball pit. I had completely forgotten he was there. He was most certainly a quiet sleeper.

“Dagnabbit,” she muttered. “Last one to hit McIntosh is a mouldy carrot!” The filly ripped another page and I did the same.

“You sure he won’t mind?” I asked, concerned. “I don’t want to make him mad, plus that reception pony might –” The filly shoved a hoof to my muzzle.

“You talk too much. Come on. An’ anyways Mac wouldn’ get angry even if his front hooves fell off.”

I blushed again. Curse that blush. Then I obeyed, continuing to launch paper planes at the filly’s brother. I was absolutely horrendous at it, but I didn’t care one bit. It was quite possibly the most fun I’d had in ages. Heaven forbid if my mother had seen me, you know, actually having a good time. I had never done anything so boisterous, but I couldn’t deny, I did thoroughly enjoy it.

Just when I was starting to get my planes to go in a straight line, I noticed the lack of laughing and page tearing. The filly had fallen asleep, covered in piles of paper balls. I’d become too immersed in the art of paper plane making to even realise. I gave an inaudible “aww.” She had looked tired. How long had we been in this place?

I found myself starting to yawn. Plane making was hard work, and I hadn’t even hit my target once, except for maybe the wall. I wandered over and lay down next to her. Her coat was fussy and radiated warmth, as I nestled beside her.

I spoke softly, knowing that she probably couldn’t hear me.

“By the way, I-I’m Rarity. Nice to meet you ...”

I fell asleep.


I can say I was definitely crestfallen, after Mother had come to retrieve me. The filly had awoken and was gone before the reception mare told me to “get ya flank outta here!” I had given her the ripped carcass of the train magazine on the way out. I’d bet that moody mare would love it.

Mother had told me about how my new sibling was doing well. At least that had uplifted my spirits. I couldn’t wait to teach them how to make paper airplanes.

Mother continued to lead me down the grey maze of the hospital hallways towards the exit. She had promised me a trip to Sugarcube Corner for abandoning me, after I had shared some "strong" words. I shouldn’t of really, having got to meet a new friend. I sighed in disappointment; I didn’t even know her name.

We were in a narrow hallway, near the elevator, when Mother had found Father beating at a vending machine with a hoof. He exchanged hugs with us both, telling me how lucky I was to be getting a new brother or sister. I nodded, snuggling into his chest. Train magazine reader or not, he gave the best hugs.

My face was covered in pure embarrassment, when both of them started hammering on the side of the machine, all for some peanut butter crackers. I quivered with humiliation. This was my life!

I noticed some commotion (even more than my parents) down the end of the hallway. It was far away, but I could tell it was the filly from the play room and her brother. A huge stallion with a brown Stetson stood behind them, as they listened to a nurse pony. He looked like that Buck Eastwood character.

I only started off at a trot before the yelling began. The stallion was pounding his hooves against the floor with such power my teeth chattered. I couldn’t tell what was happening, but it didn’t sound good.

The nurse pony was cringing at the stallion’s shouts. She tried to look remorseful, placing a hoof on his shoulder, but he shoved it away.

“I can't believe this. I won't believe it. I-I …” he cried. I noticed the filly shouting as well, but I couldn’t hear over the stallion’s volume, plus the hammering of my parent’s hooves.

“There was nothing we could do, sir. It is a miracle your daughter survived,” the mare pleaded.

“No. Celestia, no!” The sound of the impact echoed through me, as the stallions hoof struck the wall, pieces of plaster flaking off into the air with it. He galloped into the room opposite, pushing away the nurse pony. She hurried in behind him, leaving the younger ponies in the hallway.

I was terrified. I was about to turn back to Mother and Father when I finally heard the filly speak. “W-what happened? I don’t understand. I knew somethin' was wrong!” she whimpered. Her brother whispered something in her ear. From the filly’s horrified expression, I didn’t have to hear it to understand.

“No! Ma... Ma!”

McIntosh held her back, as she charged towards the door. “Lemme go dangit!” she squealed, but he held her firm. “You said she’d be okay!”

I knew I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping – it’s most unladylike. However, I was barely able to keep myself from giving the filly a rib crushing hug. It was me who got her hopes up. It was me who said everything would be alright. But, it wasn’t. Before I could start blubbering like a foal, my father lifted me onto his back.

“Look, Raresy, we got it out,” he exclaimed, proudly showing of his prize. “Let’s go.” I composed myself, still looking back on the scene. I wasn’t listening to his blabbering.

“Don’t you get it? She’s gone! She’s … gone,” the orange filly finally cried into her brother’s arms. I felt tears well up in my own eyes. I’m sure I would have unleashed them, had not Father dragged me away.

“W-wait.” I started, raising a hoof in their direction. My ears fell flat, as we stepped into the elevator.

“Of course you can have a piece, honey bunch,” my father announced. I would of jumped of Father’s back and ran to her, but I couldn’t. I just stared. Frozen. A single tear rolled down my muzzle, dripping on my coat.

The last thing I saw was the two ponies crying together in a solid embrace, as the elevator doors slid shut.

And then, she was gone.