Scootaloo awoke with a buzzing headache as her vision came into focus. She knew this feeling all too well. It was the feeling of being completely drunk of her flank, a feeling from many years of partying and not caring anymore to the point it made her sick. Every day was a struggle for her to press onwards, a constant reminder of her failing to protect the one she looked up to most. Looking towards her nightstand, she noticed, once again, the picture of Rainbow Dash and herself as a filly was, once again, knocked onto the floor.

She had lost count of how many years it had been since that day, the day she lost Rainbow Dash, one memory she did not wish to think of at the moment. Stretching back across her bed, she noticed the touch of another; with the all too hazy night she failed to remember suddenly returning. Stumbling out of the bed, she left the unknown pony to sleep and made her way to the bathroom, knocking over bottles of liquor, some empty, some partially full, quickly reaching the toilet before evacuating her stomach contents in a audible barf.

Scootaloo stumbled over to the bathroom sink, wiping her hoof over the mirror to try and clear away whatever substance had crusted itself to the mirror from the previous night. She stood on her rear legs and held onto the sink, staring at herself in the mirror for several seconds, taking in her now seemingly shivering figure. While she looked a lot like she did when she was a filly, she now sported a much more sleek and muscular build, very well toned for someone of her age. Her mane was kept very similar to how she had it as a filly, only now its front end extended past her entire head, covering the left side of her face easily. Sighing, while wondering how time had flown so quickly, she stepped down from the sink.

"Screw this shit, I need a drink" Scootaloo mumbled as she headed back into the bedroom to notice the other pony had now woke.

"Morning, Scoots." said the pony, the previous nights guest now on the front of Scootaloo’s mind. Indeed, she had never taken herself to be a fillyfooler, but there she was, a much older mare that any Colt would love to bag, and she was apparently all Scootaloo’s, and Scootaloo’s alone. She stopped to think for a moment, her memory still in a haze, trying to picture what the two had done the night before, with her eyes quickly darting up and down the mare, suddenly realising, and remembering that she was none other than the infamous Spitfire, whom she’d become quite accustomed with over the last few years. She seemed to ignore her, however, as she began to search for something to drink.

"Where is my drink? I know I had some around..." Scootaloo grumbled, trailing of.

"You don't need it Scoots,” Spitfire said while lightly hoof palming her face. “We have a very important day today and I don't want you---"

"Where is my drink?" Scootaloo replied, cutting of Spitfire mid sentence, as her demeanour was now starting to sound more violent.

"I...flushed it, last night. The last thing we need is you smashed of your face again, Scoots."

"You WHAT? I want my bucking drink, now!" Scootaloo exclaimed as she began trashing what little of her kept room she had, now virtually in tears. Spitfire cautiously approached her, placing a hoof on her shoulder.

"We all care about you, Scootaloo. The rest of the Wonderbolts and I just wish you would see that and get some help."

"I don't need help..." sobbed Scootaloo, who was now looking to the floor, trying to hide her shame.

“It used to be about the parties, Scoots. It used to be about having fun, not drinking this liquid shit just to escape reality. I've gone from being there with you, to being there for you. I'm trying to help you get rid of this problem, Scoots, but I can't just be a replacement for Rainbow Dash.”

“Don't mention her name... Please, not today...” Scootaloo whispered, holding back more tears.

“Its always 'never today' with you, Scootaloo. Its always I will do it tomorrow, or I will get help next week. Years ago, you were a great flier. You passed the entrance exam into the Wonderbolts first try. You can't keep living like this, you can't keep beating yourself up over what happened to Rainbo--" Spitfire was suddenly struck by Scootaloo, cutting her lip as she hit the floor.

"Don't you EVER mention her name again! First you take what little escape I have from this away, and then you have the nerve to bring her up! What the buck is wrong with you?" Spitfire stared at Scootaloo for several seconds with a stunned expression. It was the first time Scootaloo had ever lashed out against another pony, and Spitfire would make sure it would be the last. Spitfire slowly stood, walking over to Scootaloo, a fire in her stomach and a look of malice on her face making Scootaloo back up against a wall, knowing she had done wrong. Spitfire let out a short sigh of relief before fixing her gaze on Scootaloo.

"What’s wrong with me? More like what’s wrong with you! It used to be about having fun and enjoying yourself, but doing this to yourself will NOT bring Dash back. We have been discussing it Scoots, and after today, we want you out of the Wonderbolts, and out of our lives!" Spitfire snarled, as she spat her blood on a now cowering Scootaloo, storming out towards the door before turning her head to say one final thing. "Rainbow Dash would be disgusted with you, Scootaloo. Either pull your hoof out of your flank, or don't speak to us again. I expect to see you in twenty minutes for practice... Sober!"

"Fine, get the buck out of my room!!!" Scootaloo shouted as she hurled a empty bottle at the door, it shattering into pieces.

Pacing backwards and forwards, Spitfire mumbled under breath as tears started to form. Ever since Rainbow Dash had left, Scootaloo had been getting worse and worse as the years passed on. For years, The Wonderbolts popularity and numbers had been falling, and now, only five remained, two colts, and three mares. Work was scarce and usually had to involve large areas just to pay the bills. Ever since Scootaloo started to become adsorbed in binge drinking, the Wonderbolts wanted her out. Constantly they pestered Spitfire over the years, but her word were always final, to have Scootaloo or have no Wonderbolts. She had always covered for Scootaloo’s crimes, even saving her flying license several times, putting her own flank on the line.

The request she was upholding for Dash's stupid and idiotic last wish was taking its toll on her, but even after all these years, she still did it for her, and she had to admit, she looked down to Scootaloo like a little sister, which was why she was constantly trying to better Scootaloo, to fix her, but failing this was making her fail Rainbows request, and it was tearing her up inside.

“Spitfire?” a familiar voice echoed down the hall. It was Soarin’, Spitfire’s closest friend and one of the greatest Wonderbolts, second only to her. He immediately trotted up to Spitfire and could tell something was wrong, not taking his eyes of her now swollen lip.

“Did she do this?” Soarin' questioned, his look now quite serious with a tone that contained a hint of anger. “Well, did she?” Soarin’ immediately asked again, Spitfire trying her best to avoid his gaze.

“It… It was an accident,” Spitfire mumbled softly as she tried her best to avoid eye contact.

“So a accident involves a hoof to the face? This has gone on long enough Spitfire, and I'm putting a stop to it!” Soaring shouted as he walked past the Pegasus, standing just outside Scootaloo’s room, ready to knock loudly, until a hoof touched grabbed his shoulder, holding him in place with a seemingly sudden surge of energy.

“You never get over something like that, especially when everypony blames her for it, not to mention her and Dash were...” Soarin’ raised his hoof, ready to knock.

“Please... Don't,” sobbed Spitfire. Soarin sighed and lowered his hoof, and after several seconds turned to face his friend, who immediately embraced him in a hug.

“I'm trying Spitfire, I really am. But I don't want to have the last years of my career with memories of some drunk tainting the Wonderbolts. We are getting too old for this crap,”

Soarin gave a final sigh while gesturing with a simple nod that Spitfire made a move towards the elevator, Spitfire nuzzling Soarin’s side as she walked ahead.

“Don’t wait up.” Spitfire gently whispered as she headed into the elevator.

For what seemed forever, Scootaloo simply sat there, sobbing as all her past failures came tunnelling back to her. It was her fault Rainbow was gone, her fault she had lost the only friends she had when she was younger, and HER fault for joining the Wonderbolts, Scootaloo thought, taking the subject of herself. The only reason she had done it was to get closer to a then distant Rainbow Dash, who was way to busy to spend time with her friend, her... First, and too busy preforming for the Wonderbolts. Scootaloo, even now, was unsure what caused her to appreciate Dash so much. Was it at the time that she admired her, or something more? Dash, sadly, failed to be around long enough for her to find out, a relationship only just starting to blossom between them before she passed. To know if they could ever have a happy life together, to be there for each other, was lost that day.

Standing, Scootaloo gathered her Wonderbolts uniform as she slowly dressed herself, rubbing her flank, which to this day, was still blank. She had given up trying to find her special talent years ago. She figured that once a pony reaches adulthood, it was impossible. Scootaloo fetched her keys from one of her draws, noticing several bits inside, scooping them up. Heading out, Scootaloo headed towards the elevator, pressing the button, impatiently waiting for the doors to open, while a familiar voice echoed behind her, getting closer and closer, suddenly becoming dead silent as it approached Scootaloo. It was Soarin’, the one pony in all of Equestria she did not want to be around. Unlike the other Wonderbolts, Soarin held the most contempt for her. He was usually a kind and free spirit, but years of putting up with Scootaloo had scorned him.

The elevator dinged open as both ponies entered. Turning around, Scootaloo gave a quick glance to Soarin’, to which he glanced back, a look of disgust on his face, instantly making Scootaloo look away. As the elevator hit the ground floor, Soarin trotted out, in a almost snooty manner, letting out a slight sigh as he did, with Scootaloo following, her head hanging low. Soarin’ was already gone, but Scootaloo knew where she wanted to head, and after all, what was the point being in Las Pegasus if she couldn't enjoy herself? Licking her lips and shuffling the bits she had collected in her hoof, she trotted into the familiar little Pub section, known only as 'The Pink Mare'.

"Fancy seeing you again, Scooty-Poo," a bubbly, pink mare spurted out from behind the counter. The mare struck a incredibly familiar look to one 'Pinkie Pie' that Scootaloo had known when she was a filly, save for her mane being almost as short as that of a Colt’s. Despite asking constantly, Scootaloo knew the mare was apparently a relative of the Pink Pony from her early years, the only answer being that Pinkie apparently her Auntie, twice removed, or something along those lines.

"Give me a drink!" Scootaloo blurted as the Pink Pony stared, with a cross look on her face.

"Your tab is already too high Scootaloo, especially for your flank. Got the bits to cover it?"

"Look. I’ve a hard day ahead of me. Please don't start being... Not you just yet, Coil." Scootaloo whispered as she slammed down several bits in front of her. After several seconds, the ponies demeanour changed back to that of a happy one as she piped up.

"Oh, Scooty-Poo, I could never stay mad at you. But since you have the bits this time, and not just an extension to your bar tab, I’ll let you of this time, okie-dokey-pokey?" The pink pony said as she slid a jug of apple cider beer over to Scootaloo. The pub seemed to house hardly, if any customers, apart from the visits Scootaloo had been giving the place. Glancing around, Scootaloo came face to face with Coil, the pink pony speaking up. "So how much longer are you staying here in good old Las Pegasus? You have been here over a month already!"

"Until tomorrow, our final show is... Oh crap," Scootaloo stopped as she noticed the time on the wall, she was already over five minutes late. Gulping down the beer, the Pegasus gave a quick nod to Coil before rushing out of the building towards the entertainment ring, which would take at least another five minutes to reach.

"Where is that no good drunk?" Soarin pouted as the crowd outside was chanting for the Wonderbolts, getting restless with each chant.

"Give her time, Soarin’," Spitfire exclaimed as she stared at her wrist watch.

“Face it, Spitfire, she isn’t coming. Again. I didn't want to say anything, but I saw her heading into The Pink Mare on the way here."

A wave of disappointment hit Spitfire, a crushing pain griping her chest. “I do too much for you Dash,” She whispered.

"Let's start our act, it can still work with just the two of us, I guess," Spitfire said sadly as they both trotted towards the arena.

Scootaloo had made it in record time, but was still eight minutes late, and the final elevator seemed to be taking forever to arrive, her vision blurring in and out with what Scootaloo thought to be a lack of breath, but it was something else, something worse, which she could do nothing about but shrug it off.

Several business ponies rounded the corner, and Scootaloo knew her time in Las Pegasus was catching up to her. "Hello, Scootaloo. You know why we are here," The ponies said as Scootaloo could do nothing but gulp a yes as she was quickly surrounded.

"You think we like chasing people like you down? You owe the boss a LOT of bits, ma'am, and since we know this is your last night here, we came to collect, now!"

"Now boys, you know I will be good for the money, Mr Hard Cash knows I will pay him after tonight’s show, but right now, I am very bucking late. So, if you will excuse me..."

"No, miss Scootaloo. We get the bits, now! Hard Cash's orders. We were told to get the bits, or…" The single talking business pony spoke, staying silent before his goons made a move. "Or we get you, miss Scootaloo." The elevator dinged open as Scootaloo dashed inside, mashing the button as the doors closed, Scootaloo letting out a sigh of relief.

"Crap like this can drive any pony to drink!" Scootaloo remarked to herself as she ascended to the floor of the arena, her vision fading in and out, with her breathing becoming short rasps, she once again shook it of. "Just my nerves."

Scootaloo trotted out of the elevator as the announcer was introducing the Wonderbolts. She wasn't too late after all! As her name was announced she flew out, presenting herself to the enormous crowd’s cheers cascading from one of the biggest crowds she had seen in years. Flying high, the arena held several large pass through hoops and several sections for VIP ponies, covered in glass box skylights. She knew her manoeuvre by the book and involved a simple pass by Soarin’.

“About bloody time, Scootaloo,” Soarin’ grunted as he took his position, signalling the start of the trick. Scootaloo flew for the first pass by Soarin’, with his voice echoing over the radio attached to the costume, telling her to 'initiate the magic', at which point both ponies clicked their heels together, initiating a trailing smoke machine inside their boots. The crowd gave gasps of excitement and cheer as the pair completed a perfect figure eight, with Spitfire bursting through the sky rings and through the middle, the crowd cheering as the trio prepared for a double figure eight this time.

Scootaloo’s vision and breathing was heavily stressed by this point, a sharp pain stabbing in her side every second, yet she ignored it, initiating the second pass. As Scootaloo approached the first of the two figure eights, she had trouble keeping her balance, knocking into Soarin, a quick “Hey, watch it!” echoing over the radio as the two prepared for the second figure eight pass.

She took of, her vision fading in and out, the world seeming to stop just for her, even as Soarin’ shouted for her to stop, to stay in line. It was far too late, she had crashed into Soarin’, both ponies spinning to the ground as the world went dark around Scootaloo, and then nothing.

"Scoots... Time to wake up."

"Wake up Squirt, they need you..."

Scootaloo slowly opened her eyes, realizing she was in a hospital bed, with Spitfire standing over her, a grimace on her face.

"You just don't know when to stop, do you, Scootaloo?" Spitfire choked out before a doctor earth pony strutted in.

"Miss Scootaloo, glad you are awake. To put it simply and quickly, your liver is failing from the constant abuse of liquor that Spitfire has informed me of. We need to find you a donor and fast. You may have only days before it completely fails. On top of that, we have several police down stairs who wish to question you regarding flying under the influence. I believe you, Spitfire, are responsible for this."

"Doctor... May I have a minute?” Spitfire asked in a gentle tone as the doctor simply nodded, heading back out of the room.

"Save it, Scootaloo. I have stuck with you through thick and thin, but this is the last straw, you cost us today, you cost us too much, its over. Rest up, get the help you need, then go away. I’m leaving in the morning, two less Wonderbolts behind me..."

"He’s dead, Scoots." With those words it struck Scootaloo. The last pony she remembers seeing was...

"Soarin’? No, it... It can’t be, he was the same altitude as me. Its impossible!" Scootaloo weakly shouted, tears forming in her eyes.

"He softened your impact, the stupid foal, he turned his body to protect you. He gave his life to save yours. The glass impaled him with the fall as you two broke through the VIP sunroofs." Spitfire whispered as the tears now streamed down her face. “They tried their best… But, but they… They couldn't save him.”

Spitfire threw a stack of mail on Scootaloo’s side table before moving towards the door. "I'm sorry Scoots, but it’s too much for any of us to handle. Now we have lost two wonderful ponies, my best friend is gone... And while I try not to blame you... I..." Spitfire burst into tears, holding a hoof to her mouth.

"No, Scootaloo. The only thing you need is help. Goodbye." Spitfire choked as she walked out, whispering a final “forgive me.” To herself as tears flowed down her cheeks, forever out of Scootaloo’s life, the blame of two ponies fates now falling onto her.

Hours passed, with Scootaloo becoming incredibly frustrated, she had never gone this long without a drink, and then she noticed the mail Spitfire had left her. Most of it was for bill and debt, more than anypony could possibly accumulate in just over a month in Las Pegasus, her gambling a failed substitute for the drinking, with two habits now bound to her. One letter, however, perked her attention. She knew the area stamp from when she was younger, and instantly opened it up.

Dear Miss. Scootaloo
This Saturday marks the 25th anniversary of the Ponyville Elementary class of one Cheerilee, and according to records, you attended this class. In honour of Cheerilee's teaching accomplishments, a reunion is to be held on the forthcoming Saturday. Food and Drink will be free of charge and we look forward to seeing you there.

Mr Whitegrin, Mayor of Ponyville.

Scootaloo sighed, tears running from her eyes. In one day, she had lost everything. She needed bits to pay back the loan shark, she needed a home, and she needed friends. Creeping out of bed, she headed towards the rooms door, only to notice a familiar voice talking.

"We know Miss Scootaloo is in there, and we wish to see her, now! She is in serious financial troubles!"

"Crap... It’s those jerks again!" Scootaloo panicked to herself as she desperately tried to find a way out. She paused, looking at the note still in her hand. "They still hate me after all I did, but I need to get as far away from here as possible, away from everything, its my only chance. Perhaps I can bum some bits" Scootaloo chuckled as she opened the window, shacking her hospital gown of her body as she took into the sky, her vision fading in and out as she headed in the familiar direction towards Ponyville.

"Sir... She’s gone, but her belongings remain untouched... Except for..." The business pony paused, picking up the photo from inside Scootaloo’s Las Pegasus room.

"Tell the boss I know where she’s heading...."

Authors Note: Big thank you to Purple Thunder for fixing up spelling and grammar errors.

The Final Crusade

by ungodly

Scootaloo