Down in Ponyville, Scootaloo was glumly trundling her scooter back towards home. Halfway across town, she had remembered with deep disappointment that Rumble and his family had gone to visit his cousin and wouldn't be back until evening drew in, so instead she had gone to see if her other friends wanted to hang out.
But no matter where the orange Pegasus filly looked, there didn't seem to be a single friend who could spare any time to hang out with her – Apple Bloom was busy helping her older siblings with the first apple crop of the season; Rarity had taken Sweetie-Belle to the beach as a treat; Dinky, understandably, was still spending some quality time with Derpy; and even Noi had gone to Canterlot for a week to see her uncle. It certainly wouldn't be any use going back to Rumble's house later that evening, Scootaloo told herself, for although they may have been a couple, it hardly seemed tactful just to invite herself round without letting him rest after his journey home. In the end, she reluctantly gave up and decided to go home.
As she approached her house, she happened to glance up to the sky, where dark clouds were gathering together and beginning to block out the sunlight. By the looks of it, Ponyville was in for a heavy storm that night.
“That's all I need,” muttered Scootaloo bitterly. “First I'm not left any breakfast, then I find that nopony else has any time for me, and now I'm gonna be up all night because of some stupid storm! Still,” she went on, “on the plus side, at least I've got a good, firm roof over my head – for what it's worth.”
She left her scooter under a rather clumsily-built lean-to shelter and trudged grumpily into the house. At the same time, an exhausted Slate Shard was entering through the front door, but he barely seemed to notice Scootaloo as he plodded wearily into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. It had been a long, hard day for him; an axle had sheared on one of the slate trucks, and he had had a terrible time trying to move its remains over to one side, so as to clear the line for the other half of his train.
“What a day,” he moaned, mounting his chin on the armrest. “How my boss expects me to keep this up every day, I'll never know.” He sighed heavily, staring mournfully out of the window; “I really wish you were still here, Typhoon.”
But his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a knock at the door. Great, he thought, now the local council were about to bug him again......or were they? Grudgingly, he stood up and made his way to the front hallway to see who it was.
“I know, I know,” he mumbled, slowly opening the door, “I'm behind on the rent a...” but he never finished. The two ponies on the other side of the doorway, one rainbow-maned mare and one two-tone blue stallion, didn't look the least bit like councillors, but despite this, he had a feeling he knew them from somewhere.
“You are Slate Shard, I take it?” asked the mare.
“Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?”
“Well, yes and no,” said the stallion. “I don't know if you still remember me, Slate Shard; I'm Wing Commander Soarin Starr, second-in-command of the Wonderbolts, and this here is Rainbow Dash, my fiancée and the Wonderbolt Academy's top cadet.”
Slate Shard was most surprised. “Soarin? But I thought you Wonderbolts had stopped writing to us years ago!”
“Yes, well......we would have, but only Spitfire had your address,” explained Soarin sheepishly. “She never actually gave it to anypony else after......after the accident, so none of us could find out what was going on with you and your daughter. Matter of fact, that's why Rainbow Dash and I wanted to speak to you.”
The orange-coated quarry-pony sighed heavily. Today just wasn't his lucky day, he thought to himself; all he wanted was some downtime before turning in for the night, but now he had to contend with the concerns of two Pegasi regarding his daughter. “Alright then,” he answered, reluctantly opening the door further. “Come on in, but be sure to wipe your hooves.”
Soarin and Rainbow Dash duly obliged, and followed Slate Shard into the living room. If they thought Scootaloo had been neglected over the last few years, the house itself didn't look like it had fared any better; the sofa was old and faded with a few holes worn into the fabric, the coffee table in the middle of the room looked as though it had suffered from dry-rot at some point, and even the paint on the walls had become dull and flaky. Definitely no place for a growing filly to live, thought Rainbow Dash as she and Soarin took the sofa, while Slate Shard pulled up an equally worn armchair.
“So what's the trouble then?” asked Slate Shard. Deep down, he had a bad feeling he knew what they wanted to say, but tried not to show his anxiety nonetheless.
“Well, Slate Shard, it's like this; Scootaloo and I have been really close friends for quite some time now,” explained Rainbow Dash, “but she never once told me about you or her mother, and Soarin and I have reason to believe it's something to do with the way you've been treating her over the last four or five years.”
“How do you mean?”
“She seemed to get all embarrassed and closed off every time I asked about her parents,” Rainbow Dash clarified. “I'm not gonna start pointing any hooves, but we're worried it might be a sign of...well, neglect.”
Slate Shard shot Rainbow Dash an apprehensive glare. “What the hay are you talking about?!” he objected. “I've been working my flanks off trying to provide for her – how can you call that neglect, might I ask?”
“Now hang on, Slate Shard,” cut in Soarin, promptly stalling the argument that would inevitably be coming their way, “just how much father-daughter time do you set aside for Scootaloo on, say, a daily basis?”
“Long enough,” replied Slate Shard obstinately. “What's this gotta do with you anyway?”
“Everything, if it means you're not actually spending enough time with her,” insisted Rainbow Dash. “This is your daughter we're talking about, not just some random visitor to your house!”
What none of them could have known was that Scootaloo, of all ponies, was just on the other side of the door. She had gone downstairs to find herself a drink, but had overheard what she immediately recognised as Rainbow Dash's voice, and she was now eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Slate Shard, that filly means almost as much to me as Soarin!” she heard Rainbow Dash saying. “I've every right and reason to worry about her – and frankly, I'm surprised you don't seem to give a darn for her!”
“For Pete's sake, Rainbow Dash, I've been making darn well sure I have enough money to see to her needs! What more am I supposed to do?!”
Scootaloo choked back a few tears as she continued to listen in on the argument. It hardly came as a surprise that Rainbow Dash cared so deeply for her, but to actually hear that from her idol still touched her deeply. But despite this, it did little to soothe the ache in her heart that had plagued her for so many years since her mother had died; she had secretly hoped that her father actually cared for her enough to hang out with her sometimes, and now it seemed as if he didn't want anything to do with his own little filly.
“Providence isn't everything when it comes to parenting,” stated another voice firmly. “Dashie and I aren't even close to being parents ourselves – not yet, anyway – but you wouldn't catch us leaving our kids to look after themselves at that age.”
“Are you saying I'm a bad parent!?”
“Well, for all we know, you could be!” retorted Rainbow Dash. “I mean, when was the last time you..”
“Look, I don't need advice from some rebel with ideas above her station!” snapped Slate Shard. “I'm doing a good enough job of looking after my daughter, and that's all there is to it!”
If he had had any idea what was about to happen next, however, he would have immediately buttoned his lip. All those years of heartache, loneliness, distress and countless other emotions that Scootaloo had been bottling up suddenly caught up to her like a runaway train, causing her to lose control of herself completely. Before either Rainbow Dash or Soarin could argue their point any further, she flung the door wide open, causing it to break away from its rusty hinges. “What do you mean you're doing a good enough job?!?” she burst out in helpless fury. “You never cared for me for one second – you never even tried!”
The three ponies turned towards the doorway, startled.
“Scootaloo!” exclaimed Slate Shard in alarm. “H-h-how long had you been out there?”
“Long enough, Slate Shard!”
This shook Slate Shard to the core. Never in all his life had his own daughter referred to him by his given name.
“I heard all those rotten lies about you being a good father! Well, guess what – you're the stupidest, most uncaring pony I've ever had to meet!” raged Scootaloo, her eyes flooding with angry tears. “You never listen to me when I'm having trouble at school, you never take me out for lunch or whatever – you never even make me any breakfast or tuck me into bed at night! You might as well have left me to live on the streets – which is what I'm gonna do from now on!” and she stomped down the hallway towards the front door.
Quickly coming to his senses, Slate Shard leaped up from his armchair and ran after his last remaining family member. “Scootaloo, wait!” he begged. “You don't understand...”
“SHUT UP!!!” screamed Scootaloo, causing Slate Shard to flinch slightly. “I NEVER WANTED YOU AS A PARENT, YOU MULE! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” With that, she flung the door open and bolted into the open streets, never once looking back at the place she used to call home.
Slate Shard ran after his daughter, desperately calling her back, but she paid him no attention whatsoever, and so after just a few yards, he gave up and collapsed onto his haunches, sobbing hard. At that very same moment, a roll of thunder could be heard from all around, and almost before he realised it, rain had started to fall. Not that he cared anyway; he had tried so hard to preserve what little family he had left, but it had only led to his own daughter disowning him.
“Oh, Typhoon,” he faltered, “what have I done...I'm sorry...I've really let you down this time...I'm awfully sorry...”
He sat morosely in the middle of the street, tearfully remembering that fateful day when a despondent stallion turned up on his doorstep with tragic news of his wife, and how inconsolable his little filly had been at not being able to see her mother ever again, or even say her last goodbye to her. He remembered how Scootaloo had tried time and time again to seek solace from him whenever he was around, and all he ever did was wearily send her elsewhere so that he could have some quiet time after such a hard day at the quarry – but instead of helping him recover from his grief, it had caused him far more pain than he had bargained for. If only he had been there for her instead of acting as if she didn't exist...
“Slate Shard?”
The distraught quarry-pony looked over his shoulder to see Soarin and Rainbow Dash standing just behind him. Although Rainbow Dash still seemed a little apprehensive, both ponies now looked deeply concerned. He looked down at his hooves, visibly ashamed. “You were right all along, Rainbow Dash,” he murmured, averting his gaze at the two Pegasi. “I'm not just a bad parent – I'm the worst one who's ever lived! I can't believe I thought I had a chance of fulfilling my promise.”
Rainbow Dash cocked her head in confusion. “What promise?”
Slate Shard hung his head in sorrow. “Typhoon had always been the breadwinner of the family,” he explained gloomily. “I hardly get anything from hauling wagons around a slate quarry, and my boss never even listens to me when I ask for a pay rise. That was why Typhoon took up stunt-flying again – by the time Scootaloo was about four years old, we had used up most of our savings and were pretty short of money. After she died, I was left with a really tough decision. Either I had to carry on as normal, in which case we'd lose our house eventually, or I had to put Scootaloo up for adoption. I couldn't bear to part with her though; she's all the family I have left, and I felt that I'd be alone for the rest of my life if that happened, so at Typhoon's funeral, I made a promise never to let anything of the sort happen to our daughter – ever. I should have known I'd never be able to keep that promise,” he finished, his eyes filling with tears once again.
By now, neither Rainbow Dash nor Soarin could help feeling sorry for the broken stallion. In spite of his apparent ignorance, Slate Shard truly cared for Scootaloo. He had tried his level best for her, and the only response he had elicited from her was one of anger, hatred and distress.
Rainbow Dash smiled sadly and rested a reassuring hoof on Slate Shard's shoulder. “Hey,” she said softly, “you don't need to beat yourself up about it, Slate Shard. It's not too late to make it up to her – as long as we can find her, that is.”
“But how?!” wailed Slate Shard. “She could be anywhere!”
“He's right, Dashie,” agreed Soarin gravely. “Even with our speed and observance, I doubt we'd be able to find her that easily.” But no sooner had he finished than, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Apple Bloom walking past, clad in an apple-green raincoat and matching hat. At that very same moment, a sudden burst of inspiration caused his face to light up again; “Unless...”
“Right with you, Soarin! Call us crazy, Slate Shard, but I reckon it's high time we called in the Cutie Mark Crusaders!”
“The what?” exclaimed a bewildered Slate Shard.
But Rainbow Dash wasn't listening. Without wasting a single second, she galloped over to the yellow farm filly. “Apple Bloom,” she called, “we need your help!”
Apple Bloom looked up from the bag of groceries she was carrying, noticeably surprised. “What's the problem?”
“Scootaloo's run away!” explained Rainbow Dash tersely. “I need you and the other Cutie Mark Crusaders to help me and Soarin and her father search for her!”
“She's what?!” Apple Bloom was horrified. “But why?!”
“Never mind that, A.B.!” ordered Rainbow Dash. “Just round up the other Crusaders and get searching! Anything could happen to Scootaloo in this kind of weather!”
“Okay, Dash, Ah'm on it!” and Apple Bloom scurried away.
Ten minutes later, Apple Bloom and most of her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders were assembled at the town hall. Rumble and Sweetie-Belle had only just returned by this time, but with Noi still away, Apple Bloom had had to enlist the help of Ruby Pinch, Piña Colada, Lickety-Split and Truffle Shuffle as well.
“Listen up, everypony!” she announced. “We've got a serious problem on our hooves – Scootaloo's gone missin'.”
The Cutie Mark Crusaders all murmured amongst themselves in fear and dismay. Rumble in particular was so horrified that he nearly burst into tears.
“We dunno how, when, why or where to, but what Ah do know is that Rainbow Dash an' Soarin need help tryin' ta find her, an' that's why Ah'm declarin' a state of emergency. Now here's the deal,” went on Apple Bloom, rolling out a hastily drawn map of Ponyville. “Ah've split this map up into five sectors, each of which will be searched by two ponies. Ruby Pinch, Piña, y'all take the town centre. Look in every street an' alleyway ya come across, an' leave no stone unturned!”
“Will do, Apple Bloom,” conceded Piña Colada.
“Sweetie-Belle can search up in the north with Lickety-Split, Tootsie an' Truffle will take the south, Dinky an' Pipsqueak, y'all go west, an' Tornado Bolt an' Rumble can take up the east. Ah'll be searchin' round Sweet Apple Acres with Applejack an' Big Macintosh; if ya can, bring 'er straight back there as soon as ya find her. If not, one o' y'all inform me immediately. Any questions?”
“I don't think so, Apple Bloom,” replied Pipsqueak bravely. “We're all raring to go!”
“Good!” said Apple Bloom. “Then let's get started!”
And so, with a cry of “Cutie Mark Crusader Rescue Rangers are GO!” all eleven fillies and colts galloped off to their respective search areas, intent on finding their missing friend.