The sun streaming through the window woke Twilight Sparkle. She rolled away from it, but the sunbeam was unstoppable. It crawled across her bed and directly into her face. With something between a grunt and a curse, Twilight woke up, sat up and stretched. She looked outside and smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Then she remembered.
Twilight sighed, got up, went over to her mirror, and brushed her mane into its usual shape. Her stomach rumbled at the smell of waffles. Twilight trotted down the stairs to find Spike waiting with a plate of waffles, strawberries and cream. “’Morning,” he said.
“Good morning.” She sat in a chair as he served her a waffle. Breakfast went in silence. Neither wanted to be the first to speak. Twilight marveled at Spike’s generosity—the strawberries were fresh, as was the cream, which meant Spike, who was no morning dragon, had gotten up early to get them. When she was finished, Twilight dabbed the corners of her mouth free of cream, and used her magic to levitate the dirty dishes into the sink. “Thank you, Spike.”
“My pleasure. It was the least I could do…” Spike’s voice faltered. He looked at her. “Twilight…is everything going to be all right?”
Twilight admitted to herself that it was a good question. Would everything be all right? Would it ever return to normal? Would her circle of friends, six months, a year from now, find a new normal without Rainbow Dash? Would Rainbow fade to a memory—a pleasant memory, but a memory nonetheless? And what about the Elements of Harmony—now down a member? They would have to find a replacement…or perhaps Celestia or the Elements themselves would. Who would they choose? Who could possibly replace Rainbow Dash? “I don’t know, Spike. I hope so,” she finally replied.
Spike stared at the floor. He wiped his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I want to do something…but I don’t know what to do.”
“We should see how the others are holding up,” Twilight said. “Why don’t you check on Rarity and Fluttershy? I’ll check on Pinkie and Applejack.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll meet back up this afternoon. I need to make a list of things to do.”
That actually cheered Spike up a little. If Twilight Sparkle was making a list, the world was still turning.
Twilight walked towards Sugarcube Corner, taking her time. There really was no rush, and it was indeed turning into a gorgeous day. There was a pall over Ponyville, though. Most ponies did not speak to her, other than a nod, though a few did—to express their condolences or talk about what a wonderful pony Rainbow Dash had been. It seemed very strange to be speaking of someone in the past tense. All of them who spoke ended up crying. Rainbow Dash was a Ponyville icon: everyone knew her, and if everyone also knew that Dash had an ego the size of Canterlot, there was no doubting Dash's love of her friends and Ponyville itself.
Twilight comforted them as she could, but did not cry herself. That bothered her. She expected to be a wreck, either valiantly trying to fight back her tears, like Octavia, or trying to say something and never finishing the sentence due to emotion, like Vinyl Scratch, or just bawling their eyes out, like Derpy Hooves. Though she could feel the emotional pain of losing her friend, Twilight just could not bring herself to cry. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or something else. In her mind, she was already forming the checklist of what she now had to do—arranging Dash’s funeral, contacting the Wonderbolts, contacting Cloudsdale, finding a replacement to lead Ponyville’s weather teams, cleaning out Dash’s house…it was a long list. I love…loved Rainbow Dash as one of my best friends, Twilight asked herself. Have I become cynical? Am I getting some sort of emotional detachment from normal ponies now that I have these? Her wings chose that moment to fluff themselves out, just as she walked into Sugarcube Corner.
“Oh, hi, Twilight!” Pinkie Pie was behind the counter, and she giggled. “Still getting wingboners, huh?”
Twilight fought her wings back into place. “Why do pegasi even call them that?”
“Well, you know, when stallions—well, maybe you don’t know, Twilight. I’m sure there’s books about it. You probably have some. If not, I know where I can find some. Or maybe Celestia can explain it. Ooh! Has she given you the ‘talk’ yet?” Pinkie’s eyes were wide and questioning. “Well?”
“You do know that Princess Celestia is not my mother, and yes, I’ve had the ‘talk.’ I wasn’t born yesterday, Pinkie.”
“Me neither, though I was born in a barn. And so were you.”
“I was not! I was born in a—“ Twilight remembered. She rolled her eyes, reached behind her, and closed the door. “Sorry.”
“No biggie. I don’t mind. It’s just that Mr. Cake has been afraid of parasprites coming in, or Derpy finding out that the Cakes totally forgot to make Lemon Muffin Surprise this morning. You remember how upset Derpy was the last time! It’s like lasers shot out of her eyes, she was so mad! Lasers shooting out of your eyes would be neat, but I can see how you wouldn’t make many friends that way. You’d have to walk around wearing weird glasses all the time—like Vinyl, but weirder!”
Twilight saw an opening when Pinkie paused for breath. “Pinkie, are you okay?”
“Sure.” Pinkie gave her a typically Pinkie grin—all teeth and sparkling eyes. Twilight found herself smiling, but rapidly clamped down on that smile. There was nothing to smile about. Pinkie was acting strange. A quick glance at her mane showed that it was its usual poofy self—not the straightened mane of Pinkamena Diane Pie, Pinkie's dour former self. Pinkie Pie wore her emotions on her flanks, and if she was depressed, it showed. Twilight wondered if that was still true.
“Want some cupcakes, Twi?”
“Um, no. Not really hungry—“
“You need to eat. How about some hay bacon strips?”
“Spike served me waffles—“
“Ooh! Did he have fresh strawberries? I saw him wandering around this morning. I got up early because I couldn’t sleep.” She licked her lips. “Waffles and strawberries…mmm. Spike does make really good breakfasts! Not as good as his nachos, but you can’t have nachos for breakfast because that would be weird! I bet even the buffalo down around Appleloosa don’t eat nachos for breakfast—“
“Pinkie!” Twilight shouted.
“What?”
“Stop it!”
Pinkie’s expression was one of genuine confusion. “Stop what?”
“Stop acting so…so…normal!”
Pinkie stopped. She blinked. Twice. Then she started to laugh. Uproariously. “Normal? Me?” Pinkie struggled out the words; she was laughing so hard that she pounded her hooves against the counter. “You…you’re the first pony ever to call me normal, Twilight! That’s funny! Normal! Me!”
Twilight shut her mouth before something flew into it. She wasn’t sure what to do—if she should turn her back on Pinkie in disgust and walk out, if she should reach across the counter and slap some sense into the pink pony, or embrace the madness and start laughing with her. Maybe Pinkie’s lost her mind completely, Twilight mused, or I have. “Pinkie, don’t you remember last night? Rainbow?”
Pinkie’s laughing faded away, though her smile remained. She nodded. “Of course I do, Twilight.” Her voice had lost none of its perkiness. “I remember what happened to Rainbow. It’s going to be all right.”
Twilight swallowed nervously. Pinkie was not acting rationally. “Pinkie, Rainbow died. Rainbow Dash is dead.”
Without warning, Pinkie’s demeanor changed. Her smile changed to a frown. Her eyes narrowed. Her mane straightened ever so slightly. “I know that, Twilight. What kind of a freak do you think I am that I wouldn’t remember what happened to one of my best friends?”
“But you…you’re not mourning!”
“Are you?” Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see you crying a river, Twi.” Her expression changed again, this time to sadness. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I’m…” Pinkie closed her eyes and took a breath. “I’m dealing with this the only way I know how, Twilight. And that’s to laugh. It’s kinda my job.” Pinkie motioned at her cutie mark. She smiled again, though not as wide and with more than a tinge of sorrow. “Rainbow wouldn’t want me moping around, Twilight. If she was here, she’d say ‘Pinkie, stop crying. Twilight, go be an egghead and make a list. I’m gonna be okay.’” Pinkie thought for a moment. “Maybe she is here. My mama and papa always told me back on the farm that our kin never really die; they just sort of hang around wherever. I’m not sure if that would be neat or not. I mean, you'd still be with your friends, but you'd be a ghost or something. Can ghosts eat food? Can they pick up things? I've never heard a ghost talk, really."
“Pinkie, you’re just so…random.” They shared a grin at that, an old Dash-ism. “Well. Here I came to cheer you up, and you’ve actually cheered me up," Twilight remarked.
“Like I said, that’s my job. You know, Element of Laughter and all that?” Pinkie leaned close. “Twilight, remember that time at the Grand Galloping Gala? When we were all riding up the elevator and Rarity cut a fart? And how it stunk because she’d been eating horseradishes earlier on?”
Twilight giggled. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know ponies could blush like that.”
“And how she tried to cast a pine-smell spell to cover it and it totally didn’t work?” Pinkie snorted. “And what Dashie said?”
Twilight laughed. “‘Mother of Celestia, Rarity, did you shit a tree?’” Twilight blushed herself at using profanity, but she would never forget Dash's exact words. At the time, Rarity had been mortified, Fluttershy and Twilight embarrassed for her, and Applejack and Pinkie barely able to contain their mirth. Rainbow had put an end to that. They were all laughing so hard when they stepped out of the elevator that every head in the Grand Ballroom had turned to them. “Rarity said the Gala went downhill from there!”
“Yep!” Pinkie winked. “And that, Twilight, is how I want to remember Rainbow Dash.”
Twilight wiped away a tear—one from laughing. “You’re right, Pinkie. You're absolutely right.” She paused. “Bag me up some apple fritters. I’m going to go talk to Applejack; see how she’s doing.” Pinkie complied, scrounged a bone from somewhere for Winona, and wouldn’t accept Twilight’s bits. “This one’s on the house, Twi. For Dashie.”
“Okay.” At the threshold of the door, Twilight paused. “Pinkie Pie, thank you. I didn’t think I’d laugh again. See you later.”
“Seeya!” Pinkie watched as Twilight headed off down the road towards Sweet Apple Acres outside of Ponyville. “Oh, we’ll laugh again,” Pinkie whispered to herself. “It's just that...we’ll…we’ll just never be young again.”
Her reserve broke. Her smile dissolved into a sob. Pinkie laid her head on the counter, putting her hooves over her eyes. It hurt to smile. It hurt to be the Element of Laughter. Pinkie didn't want to be funny. She wanted to scream, to cry until there were no tears left in Equestria for her friend. But then the bell to Sugarcube Corner rang. Pinkie instantly popped her head up, swiped her tears away, and plastered a smile on her face as Lyra Heartstrings staggered in, a load of boxes on her back for pastry orders. “Hi, Lyra! Give you a hand with that?”