//------------------------------// // Chapter 5: On the (Rail)Road to Chaos // Story: The Reason I Can't Find My Love // by Locomotion //------------------------------// Unaware of the chaos they had just gotten into, Rainbow Dash, Soarin, Scootaloo and Pinkie Pie had found their compartments, and were now settling back in the one that Scootaloo, Rainbow Dash and Soarin would be sharing to enjoy the ride. Rainbow Dash was glad they had a sofa-bed on which she could rest; she had been on her hooves for well over half an hour since leaving Sugarcube Corner, and whereas flying hadn't been too much of an issue in her condition, all this walking and standing about had left her feeling sore and tired. Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, was so excited that she could hardly sit still. “Ooh – I can't wait to see Braeburn again!” she squealed, bouncing joyously around the compartment. “This is gonna be so awesome!” “I bet it will,” chuckled Soarin. “First time I've ever been there myself...” “...and me!” chipped in Scootaloo eagerly. “...so yeah, I can see your point, Pinkie.” “And just think – tomorrow, we're gonna be hanging out with buffalo and doing all sorts of Wild West stuff!” beamed Scootaloo. Rainbow Dash smiled faintly. “Yeah, that'll be something to look forward to,” she mused lazily. “Moving on, you guys want any breakfast?” “Uh...isn't it a bit late for that?” asked Soarin uncertainly. “They're not serving anything aboard this train until twelve.” “Maybe not, but I am,” retorted Rainbow Dash with a grin. “Anypony want muffins?” The three other ponies all responded at once. “Me! Me!” “You bet, Dash!” “Muffins? Where?” “In my saddlebag,” Rainbow Dash pointed out. In an instant, Pinkie Pie dived into the bag and procured a freshly baked strawberry muffin for each of them before taking huge bites out of hers. “Mm – delish!” she beamed, earning a slight chuckle from Rainbow Dash as she finished her mouthful. “Where d'you get them from, Dashie? These taste even better than the ones we make at Sugarcube Corner!” “And so they should,” agreed Rainbow Dash heartily, “'cause I didn't get them from there in the first place.” “So where did you get them?” Rainbow Dash paused impressively. “Do you know the muffin mare?” “The muffin mare...” murmured Pinkie Pie, placing a hoof to her chin as she tried to work out whom Rainbow Dash was talking about. “The muffin mare?!” repeated Soarin, noticeably taken aback. “Oh yes, I know the muffin mare...whose name is Derpy Doo?” asked Pinkie Pie. “Yep,” affirmed Rainbow Dash. “I got these from the muffin mare.” “The muffin mare?” “The muffin mare.” “You got these fro...wait just a minute!” Pinkie Pie promptly interrupted herself. “We're getting into that Shrek gag, aren't we?” Rainbow Dash gave the pink-furred mare an odd look. “Uh...what are you talking about?” she quizzed. “Honestly, Dashie, you need to get out more,” chided Pinkie Pie, directing a deadpan expression at her rainbow-maned Pegasus friend. “As if!” scoffed Rainbow Dash smugly. “Soarin and I have been out at shows all the time since I became a full-time Wonderbolt; what more do you want?” “Another muffin, that's what.” Rainbow Dash smirked in amusement. “Yeah, sure, help yourself, Little Miss Random,” she teased; but promptly spoilt the effect by wincing and rubbing her front hooves together with a light groan. “Ugh, my hooves are killing me!” “What's that gotta do with muffins?” inquired Pinkie Pie, withdrawing another one from Rainbow Dash's saddlebag. “Nothing – I just said it afterwards, that's all.” Pinkie Pie shook her head in disapproval; “Dashie, you shouldn't say things like that so close together. It could confuse a stupid pony.” Soarin stifled a laugh and walked over to his heavily pregnant wife. “Never mind, Dashie; I'll soon sort that out,” he smiled, taking one of her rear hooves in both his front ones and gently rubbing the soreness away. As she felt the tension in her aching hoof begin to fade, Rainbow Dash closed her eyes and lay back against the soft cushions, moaning and purring with pleasure. She may not have been a great fan of spa treatment, but as she became more and more prone to muscle cramps, she found her husband's massages so relaxing and refreshing that she almost welcomed any aches and cramps that she might have sustained. There were indeed times when Soarin wondered if she was inflicting them on herself just to get one, but he didn't mind a bit; to him, it was a very sensual and enjoyable way of giving pleasure to his beloved. Within about half an hour, Soarin had finished on all four of Rainbow Dash's hooves and was now in the process of massaging her swollen belly. “How do you feel now, honey?” he asked. Rainbow Dash smiled fondly in reply; “Like a million bits, Soar. Thanks for that hoof massage you just gave me.” “That's okay, Dashie – just glad I could be of help,” said Soarin modestly. “Me too,” agreed Rainbow Dash. “You sure have a way with making me feel relaxed – and just as well too, considering the extra effort I have to put into carrying this little fella around.” “Ah well, could be a lot worse,” mused Soarin brightly. Deep down, he was rather unsettled about all the pain that Rainbow Dash would have to go through once it was time for their foal to be born, but was trying his best to hide his fears behind a more optimistic façade. But strangely enough, on this occasion, it somehow seemed to rub the rainbow-maned mare up the wrong way a bit, for no sooner had he finished than she directed a dubious stare at him. “What are you talking about?” Confused, Soarin abruptly stopped massaging. “Well, uh...obviously I wouldn't know, since I'm only a stallion,” he stammered, “but I thought that...well, other than you worrying about your body image...” “SOARIN!!!!” bellowed Rainbow Dash suddenly, in an aggressive, threatening tone. Both Pinkie Pie and Scootaloo jumped at the sound of her voice and accidentally knocked over the chess game they were playing, while Soarin recoiled slightly. “Yes, Rainbow Dash?” he whimpered, fearing for his life. “PREGNANCY,” growled Rainbow Dash fiercely, “DOES NOT GET LOUSIER THAN THIS!!” She then paused for a second before adding, “Which is a good thing,” in a cheery voice, almost as if an afterthought for comical effect. With a sigh of relief, Scootaloo set about placing the board back on the table and returning the pieces to their original positions, ignoring a giggling Pinkie Pie as she rolled about on the floor. Soarin, meanwhile, simply rolled his eyes in amusement – not only did his wife always manage to get him with the pretence of being angry at him, but the way she had just spoken to him, it was as if she, Rainbow Dash of all ponies, actually enjoyed being pregnant! “The things that mare gets up to sometimes,” he thought mirthfully to himself. Back in Ponyville, Caramel was just pulling into the station with his first string of apple carts, hoping to goodness that Applejack had managed to stop Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie leaving for Appleloosa. As he halted his carts next to the reefer vans, he noticed the orange-furred mare pacing back and forth next to the station building, muttering to herself in an agitated tone. Realising that all was clearly not well, he left his carts and trotted over. “Any luck?” he asked anxiously. Applejack looked up, but still continued to pace. “None,” she replied unhappily. “The train left just as Ah arrived – an' Pinkie an' Rainbow Dash were already on board before Ah even got there!” “So...you didn't even have a chance to tell them about Braeburn?” The tan-coated stallion thought quickly, trying to come up with a quick and easy way out of their dilemma. “Hadn't you tried telegraphing for him to wait a further twenty-four hours?” “No chance,” said Applejack gravely. “His train's gonna be leavin' any minute; even if Ah do send a telegram, it'll never reach him in time.” She then collapsed onto her haunches and buried her face in her hooves. “Ah can't believe Ah had ta let this happen! Big Mac was right; Ah should'a told Pinkie the first chance Ah got!” Caramel cringed and continued to wrack his brain for a solution. He hated seeing Applejack lose her nerve like this, but of more immediate concern to them both was the notion of Braeburn arriving in two days' time only to find Ponyville devoid of its favourite party pony. “Couldn't we just tell him that Pinkie's gone off to Appleloosa?” he suggested anxiously. “No!” burst out Applejack in horror. “We can't do that; this is Braeburn we're talkin' about 'ere!” “What's wrong with that?” objected Caramel, perplexed. “Ain't y'all done forgotten how...clueless that guy can be?!” snapped Applejack, a little more sharply than she had intended. “If he finds out that Pinkie Pie's gone off to Appleloosa, he's just gonna go straight back there himself – an' fo' all we know, soon as Pinkie an' Dash find out that Braeburn's in Ponyville an' not Appleloosa, they might come a runnin' only ta fin' he's gone home! Then it'll probably be the same thing over an' over again!” She paused, taking a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm herself down; then, in a quiet, despairing tone, she added, “Caramel, what am Ah gonna do?” Again, Caramel took a few moments to ponder the situation. Part of him felt sure that Applejack, in the heat of the moment, was merely exaggerating; but he also knew that Braeburn could be far quicker on his hooves than he was in the head. For all he knew, he decided, she could indeed be right. “Hmm...I suppose we could always have Twilight's dragon assistant send a letter,” he said at last. “We can't!” protested Applejack. “Spike's away at a fashion show with Rarity in Fillydelphia; they won't be back fo' another week yet!” “Oh......okay then.” Caramel paused for the umpteenth time. “Seems there's only three things we can do, in that case.” “What three things?” “Thing the first: we go ahead and send a telegram to Appleloosa, but make it out to...say Rainbow Dash instead of Braeburn,” stated Caramel. “Thing the second: we let Braeburn know that Pinkie has been detained, but that she will return in due course – and whatever we do, we must keep him from finding out she's in Appleloosa.” “Easier said than done,” frowned Applejack. “Y'all know how useless Ah am at lyin'.” “Well yes, but that doesn't mean you can't twist the truth,” Caramel pointed out. “If you managed it with me when I first arrived here, then I'm sure you can manage it with your own cousin. Besides, we only really need to keep it up long enough for Pinkie Pie to come home.” “Hmm...Ah suppose so,” conceded Applejack doubtfully. “An' the third thing?” “What the Apple Family does best, next to farming.” “Hospitality?” “Exactly!” replied Caramel triumphantly. “As long as we make Braeburn feel welcome here, chances are that he won't even begin to worry about Pinkie – and if we play our cards right, by the time he finds out where she's gone, both mares will probably be home and dry already.” Applejack considered this. “Well...Ah suppose we do have a good chance,” she decided at last. “Alright then, Caramel, Ah'll go get that telegram sent off.” “And I'll go let Granny Smith in on our, er......'emergency plan', let's call it.” With that, Caramel galloped away towards the orchard while Applejack headed for the nearby telegraph office. Meanwhile, at Appleloosa Station, Braeburn was waiting anxiously for his own train to arrive. Word of his departure from Appleloosa had gone round very quickly, and on this, his final day here, many of his fellow townsponies and even some of the local buffalo had come to offer their support and say their final goodbyes before he left. As the golden-furred stallion gazed out along the main line towards Ponyville, deep in thought, his father and former boss, Apple Bushel, came up next to him and rested a hoof on his shoulder. “You okay, Braeburn?” he asked softly. “Yeah, Ah'm fine, Pop,” said Braeburn absent-mindedly. “Just a li'l nervous is all.” “Ah know how it feels, son,” smiled Apple Bushel kindly. “Yo' Ma an' Ah found it mighty tough ourselves, movin' outta El Bronco an' into Jockeysonville just after we'd married – an' that was way before an Appleloosa ever existed.” Meadow Song was the next to speak up; “Take it easy, Braeburn,” he soothed. “Same time tomorrow mornin', you'll be back with Pinkie again. Ain't that what ya wanted in the first place?” “Ah never said it weren't,” objected Braeburn. “It's just such a big change in mah life, movin' on from somewhere Ah put mah heart an' soul into.” He paused, hanging his head ruefully. “Ah just hope Ah'm doin' the right thing, leavin a' this behind.” “Well, that a' depends on what that right there is sayin'.” This came from Braeburn's mother, Gala Appleby, who pointed towards his chest as she spoke. “What does it tell ya, Braeburn?” The golden-furred Earth pony paused, placing a hoof over his chest and feeling his heartbeat intensifying the more he thought about the prospect of leaving Appleloosa, about the friends and family he would leave behind – but most of all, about Pinkie Pie. “Well...it says go after her......Ah guess.” “Then you are doin' the right thing, Braeburn,” Gala Appleby replied gently. “Y'all can always return to Appleloosa if ya so wish; but a second chance at gettin' the one ya care fo' don't come too easy.” Braeburn smiled softly in reply, and gave his mother a grateful nuzzle. “Thanks, Ma,” he whispered. “Ya sure know how ta reassure me in times la'k these.” “It's what Ah'm here fo', son,” replied Gala Appleby, returning the nuzzle. At this point, Little Strongheart stepped forward. “Braeburn,” she said, holding out what looked like a colourful spider's web, “before you go, here's a little something my tribe made for you to remember us by.” “Oh right?” Braeburn looked the object over with interest. It turned out to be a dream-catcher, lovingly hoof-crafted by some of the other squaws in Little Strongheart's tribe. “Wow! You did this for me?” The young buffalo nodded in reply. “You and your fellow settlers have done so much for us over the years; it's only fair that we offer this to you as a token of our appreciation.” Braeburn was so deeply touched and humbled by Little Strongheart's generosity that he could barely hold back tears. “Aw...thanks, Li'l Strongheart,” he faltered. “Ah'm really gonna miss you guys, ya know that?” “We'll miss you too, Braeburn,” agreed Little Strongheart, drawing him into a friendly hug. “I do hope you and Pinkie are happy together.” “So do Ah, Li'l Strongheart,” observed Braeburn, as his train finally pulled up alongside the platform. “So do Ah.” And so, after a final, somewhat poignant farewell, the golden Earth pony stallion stepped aboard the rearmost carriage of the train and made his way back to the observation lounge. Once there, he watched and waved to all on the platform as the mighty express engine upfront heaved the sixteen coaches out of the station, carrying him away from his friends, his mother and father, and the town he had grown to love so dearly. Everyone on the platform waved back, crowing out their goodbyes and singing a final salute to Braeburn which lasted until he was out of sight; “No...one's...bright as Braeburn, Brings delight like Braeburn, And there'll never be nopony quite like Braeburn. That he's leaving is sad yet by far elating... My, what a guy – Braeburn!” As the town of Appleloosa gradually receded into the distance, Braeburn heaved a wistful sigh and headed back to his reserved compartment. Moving away from his old home had truly been the toughest choice he had ever had to make, and while he knew Applejack and her siblings would be more than happy to help him adapt to his new life in Ponyville, he also knew that it would take him a long time to get over it. But at least, he told himself, he would still have Pinkie Pie to help him move on from all the heartbreak he had inevitably suffered from leaving Appleloosa behind. With that in mind, he sat back on one of the armchairs in his compartment to enjoy the journey.