She could hear everything. Not a single sound passed by her ears that wasn't registered. Each flap of pegasus wings, each soft breeze, every single last murmur of the world alive around her. From the whisper of the sheets to the beeping of the machine, she heard it all.
But she could not see it all. All she saw was the interior of her room, the boring bedspread, the same nightstand, the septic-white tint of the clouds that made up her walls. And the machine. That damnable contraption of medical technology hard-wired into her body, pumping her full of who-knew-what, monitoring her, watching her.
Beeping.
Always the beeping.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
Like a heartbeat.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
The ticking of a clock.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
She remembered flying. Soaring fast and free, with nothing to hold her back. She remembered twirling and spinning, flapping laps around smaller clouds. She remembered the heat of the sun and the chill of the air as it rushed past her flanks. She remembered the way her mane tugged at her scalp, her own body begging her to slow down.
She remembered the roar of the wind.
*Piip... Piip... Piip*
Nothing but a memory now.
She heard a pegasus fly by, probably on their way to some important engagement. Or maybe they were out flying just for the sake of flying. Maybe they were part of the weather team, making sure everypony was inside.
She heard the thunder.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
She heard the machine.
She remembered breaking the sound barrier. She remembered hearing nothing in that moment, gone was the world, and nothing existed in that moment. Nothing but her, the sky, and the speed.
She remembered the fall.
She remembered the pain.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
She sighed.
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Yeah, yeah..."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"I get it."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Okay."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Shut up."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Seriously."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Shut up."
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"Shut up!"
*Piip... Piip... Piip...*
"UGH!"
*Piiiiiiii~*
She heard her hoof hit the machine. She heard the crack of parts breaking, of mechanisms shattered and jumbled until nothing worked the way it ought to have.
But the beeping was not done. It beeped longer, louder now. That damnable piece of machinery sat there, its miniature screen broken, but still beeping.
She could still hear the pegasi fly by. She heard her sheets as she kicked them off.
"No more."
She heard her heart pump blood into her veins, fast enough it echoed in her head.
"I can't stand it."
She heard her bones protest, grating together sickeningly.
"I can't hear it anymore."
She heard her teeth grind together.
*Piiiiiiii~*
"No more."
She felt the breeze pass over her coat. She felt the pain as she dragged herself out of the house.
She could remember the thrill of the first drop, the tension in her back as she opened her wings. She remembered the adrenaline coursing through her; replacing her blood with sweet, sweet clarity. She could remember seeing everything, watching the world around her rush by. She remembered seeing trees and clouds, other ponies, animals and streams and wide, wide fields of grass, all of it beneath her as she rushed on, faster than it all; faster than anything in the world.
She remembered the echoing boom of her speed, dousing the landscape in a brilliant light. She remembered the smooth flight, the way she could turn on a dime. She remembered closing her eyes and feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. She remembered the tension on her wings, pulling her further, faster... ever faster.
She remembered stopping, feeling it all come to an end. The world caught up to her, broken bones and all. In half a heartbeat, Rainbow Dash's world had become stillness. Quiet, calm, indomitable stillness.
And the beeping.
*Piiiiiiii~*
It chased her out of her home, down the hallway and through the living room. Out of the front door and onto the bank of clouds she kept her house. She felt the breeze again, and it whispered past her ear, tantalizing her with the promise...
To a pegasus, nothing is more sacred than flight. Their wings are what make them who they are. Their ability to rise above the world, to ascend to heights taller than the tallest mountain, to soar above tree and meadow and field; the capability they have to come over the clouds, even, into that untouchable, intangible plane of existence where the was nothing but the clouds and the sun...
And the roar.
That blissful, beautiful sound that drowns out all else. When you're moving so fast that nothing else exists. There are no beeps, no flaps, no gentle coughs or polite words. When there's nopony nearby, and nothing can reach you, when you're in you're own world, and you can't hear anything else.
No doctors telling you you'll never fly again.
No screams as the scalpels cut your skin.
No sobs on those long, impossibly long nights.
No beeping.
Dash crawled to the edge of the clouds, looking out at the world below her. Thousands of feet between her and the ground. Thousands of degrees of separation between her and the things that mattered. And that could be thousands of feet between her and the beeping. She looked around. Nopony in sight. Not even the pony that had flapped past her home a little while ago.
But there was still the beeping. Long and loud, loud enough to penetrate through the walls of her home and reach her where she lay, goading her, torturing her.
"Enough." She choked, looking down once again. "I gotta... I can't..."
She felt her tears.
And she heard the beeping.
Until she pushed herself over the edge.
Then, she felt the fall. She felt her heart drop, down into her gut. She felt the weight lift from her broken bones, freeing her from the pain.
And the roar. The wind picking up around her, rushing past her. She opened herself to it, like greeting an old friend.
She didn't hear the beeping. She didn't hear the flapping of wings. She couldn't even hear her heartbeat in her ears anymore.
She didn't hear the doctors.
She didn't hear the crying.
She didn't hear the screams.
All she heard was the roar.
And it was the last thing she ever heard.