Present time....
All around her, people were rising from their from their work. Rarity was trying to chip off a bit of concrete forming a minuscule ledge in the wall, a finishing touch. Pinkie tried to climb said ledges that Rarity failed to remove. Applejack pulled Rainbow to her feet, and they hoisted a leftover pallet of bricks between them to a nearby storage shed. Fluttershy, out of sight, was already inside with a jumble of tools. Flash leaned against the fruits of their labour, while Coco stretched out her back and winced visibly halfway through. All were caked in bits of globs of dried material and dust. It was now the nameless interim between dead-of-night and far-too-early.
And they were finally done. She closed her eyes and held them tightly shut. Firstly, because she didn't want to open them again for a long, long time, and secondly, because the realization brought her close to tears. The wall, my friend, she thought, and wondered what exactly was wrong with herself. We're both pretty strong, but we fell after a little....persuasion. She was quite happy with the explanation. Anything other than admitting that she was not altogether stable at the moment.
"You're crazy. I've told you that before, right?"
She hadn't realized that the exchange had been audible, and cursed (silently this time), at Flash's....comment. The words were almost enough to provoke her to anger on their own, but he carried a sad little smile and a knowing look that coaxed a memory from her. Come to think of it, the words had a familiar ring. Ah, yes.... For a moment, she saw Flash leaning against another wall from another time--
"--Well it doesn't matter, we're done here," she replied hastily. It was more to keep her mind from wandering than out of ill will, but she'd wager that it sounded waspish to the others. 'Bad move.' She cleared her throat and composed herself, as was her habit. "And I have all of you to thank for that," she replied more gently. "You didn't need to help me, but you did it anyway, and...." All eight of the others now regarded her, some with careful neutrality, others with a small measure of scorn. She swallowed. "I'm grateful for that," she added at last.
She saw one scowl soften greatly, and the individual in question approached her. "Didn't need to help you? We made some of those holes," Rainbow joked weakly, and punched her affectionately in the shoulder. It, and the memory of getting rainbow-slammed into a dirt crater, making a neat, regular edge, set her bruised for throbbing vaguely. But she smiled anyway. Rainbow smiled back.
Something transpired, and Sunset would never be able to name it, now or ever after. She'd notice in retrospect that, from that point onward, she never thought of Rainbow Dash as a mindless jock ever again. Some strange compulsion made her hug Rainbow. Some stranger compulsion must have made Rainbow return the hug. 'Stranger,' she thought, smirking at the inadvertent wordplay.
The others crowded around, a few went "aww", but eventually, most of them must have joined in, because she found herself enfolded in their collective warmth. First Pinkie Pie, who made a beeline and all but latched on to her. Fluttershy had been more unexpected, but she came with Rarity, and assumed the awkward position with equal grace. Coco pushed herself into the fray. Sunset never thought she'd be this close to Coco ever again, but she was. 'It's a good feeling,' she thought.
She had not been expecting this situation, because all her predictions before this point had ended with her finding somewhere quiet to cry herself to sleep. 'Maybe I'll still do that, it'll definitely help. But not now.' Nothing would be permitted to interrupt this moment.
Flash had started towards them, before several thoughts seized hold of him. One of them an angel with flowing dark purple hair streaked with magenta and lilac, slender hands and soft velvet wings. The other was the absolute crushing physical force of the prospective situation. No one seemed to have taken note of him, so he leaned back against the wall and watched, thinking to sit it out. Within the cluster, something shifted. Sunset happened to glance up, met his eyes....and smiled. Flash froze, not because he was caught unexpectedly, but because, in a gaze that had met his own with nothing but bitterness and anger for several months, he now saw a complete absence of enmity. He suddenly felt intensely guilty for not joining the hug, and he tried ineffectually to make up for it with a smile on his own. He was sure that it was lop-sided because he was so unprepared, but Sunset seemed to consider it paramount to embrace. He knew it by looking.
There were no illusions of romance between them. Not any more. It was mutually shared through the slight guard of their eyes, the slight arch of the eyebrows, that never quite disappeared no matter what happened. It didn't change a thing.
Months before, on a bus....
"....But still," she pressed, as a wry smile touched her lips, "It's not like you to be so absent-minded." Mildly amusing, as Flash's behavior was, she was starting to worry. First, his bass, which he seemed to wear like a natural appendage, had been left behind at home, and then he had almost missed his bus. Something was off about him. 'Which reminds me....' Sunset thought.
"I was also going to ask you earlier, what exactly do you mean by 'not your day'?"
He paused mid-motion and settled into the appearance of a tight-lipped grimace. Then he shrugged. Again. Sunset hadn't thought of him as the insecure type, and still didn't. 'I think I might have to curb that,' she mused.
Presently, Flash continued his explanation and her attention returned to him. "I don't know," he sighed. "Small things, almost nothing." He thought for a while longer. "It's just a feeling I guess. I can't explain it otherwise." He coughed. "But I'll be fine. Probably."
'Just a feeling....'
She could understand that, and she told him as much. He grimaced at her in an attempt to be friendly. For a moment after, neither of them knew what to say. Sunset was about to inquire further about "what exactly was off", when--
"Okay now it's my turn," Flash said abruptly, making Sunset jump slightly. Had he no idea what subtlety was? Straightening in his seat, he faced himself towards her. "Aside from trying to confuse me, obviously, why else are you here?" Sunset offered a blank stare. "I meant, this is not your usual route," he clarified. "Where are you headed to today?" She rolled her eyes.
"Downtown. I wanted to, uh, get myself something nice," she explained, hardly expecting him to understand it. The only things he seemed to own were that bass, and his slightly tatty jacket. Little else, and he didn't seem to need anything else. That was it, then, she could liken it to what he probably thought about his own possessions.
"Come to think of it, it's more of a necessity than a luxury--"
"Shopping?"
"Well, not exactly. It's not really blindly milling about, it's more of--"
"Shopping."
"....well, if you wanna put it that way," she said, slightly irked, "then....yes, shopping." He slouched backward into his seat immediately after she finished. The reaction reminded her of the time she had seen a pony under mind-control, released by a magical catch-word. In Equestria, this would have been highly suspicious, even dangerous, but there was no magic here, and therefore, no magic traps or curses. No reliable ones anyway. It still rankled her finely tuned awareness.
It seemed to help him relax, and he was having a tough day, so she didn't really mind.
"I see," he slurred in conclusion.
'I don't think you do,' she thought. She withheld that particular comment.
He sat up again without warning. Sunset jumped a little less this time, but she jumped anyway. 'Goodness, what's wrong with you today,' she mused.
"Hey, what day is it?" he asked.
"Thursday," she replied with an almost practiced familiarity. "Why?"
He checked his watch. "Hmm. I have time to spare," he mumbled, then, hesitatingly, he turned to her. "Y-you mind if I tag along with you?"
She jumped lightly, and fixed him with a stare that said what she didn't. It was something along the lines of 'I wasn't expecting that' and 'Are you running a temperature?'. He returned a carefully neutral expression.
"What?" he asked, and blinked.
She was not altogether sure she'd heard it.
"What?"
He blinked again, looking slightly annoyed.
When he failed to reply, she continued, "B-But you said it yourself. 'Shopping'." She emphasized the last word with a heaviness in her voice. That request had been so unexpected as to knock her off balance. But not enough to offset her sardonic nature. Never enough.
"So?" He returned to the the same infuriatingly neutral expression he had adopted earlier.
'That blank stare fools no one,' she thought flatly, before social conduct softened her statement to "Don't you boys hate that?" The question came as a jibe, but it was much less derisory. She could live with that.
He laughed, which, for some reason, seemed real enough. She'd generally come to trust that a smile or a laugh from Flash was always sincere. It also always broke her composure. And it still hadn't lost its 'warming' effect, or its ability to leave a shadow of itself on her features.
"Yeah, we do," he admitted finally, "but we do it anyway, right?"
There was something in that statement, some implication that was significant, but at the moment, Sunset was basking in the warmth of his smile, and she only had the presence of mind to file it away and think about it later. Her smile grew wider. "Well, it's a good thing you missed practice today...."
She froze. Flash noticed her from the corner of his eye, seemed to realize what it mean, and followed suit a moment later.
Present Time....
They left in a single group, leaving Sunset and two other remnants behind. She watched them leave with a vague emptiness, because, for them at least, the night had ended on a high note, while she on the other hand....She dusted her hands and rested them on her hips momentarily. "Back to work," she mumbled.
"What?!"
She yelped at Flash's sudden outburst. 'Goodness, he really has no concept of subtlety.' Turning slowly and blinking rapidly to calm her breathing, she turned to glare at him, more out of shock than malice. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Coco seemed to have jumped as well. "Will you please not do that?"
Flash almost retorted before he noticed that Coco was nodding emphatically in agreement. "Sorry," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Then he took up the argument once again and asked, "What do you mean, 'back to work?'" He was almost hysterical.
"What I meant," Sunset said, keeping her voice deliberately slow, "wasn't meant for you to know, but since you asked," she took a deep breath. He wasn't going to like it. "I sent them off first, because i still have a hallway to clean. And I don't have the heart to keep them on their feet any longer."
Flash regarded her blankly. Coco smirked knowingly and nodded in approval. A strange sort of standoff resulted; Flash on one side, Sunset on the other, and Coco in the centre.
"Do you know," Flash started, with a slow deliberation startlingly similar to Sunset's, "how heavy rubble is?"
"Can't be heavier than the emotional burden I already have," she retorted. 'That'll shut him up,' she thought vehemently.
Silence. Just as she had intended. Also tension, which was an unexpected by-product. She was actually hoping for some pity, but not expecting it.
Coco cleared her throat. "Sunset, you know we aren't going to leave you alone, right?" She waited for a reply. "Doesn't matter what you want, we aren't--"
"--I get it, Coco," she snapped. Her eyes widened, before she screwed them shut. She had to stop doing that. "I get it, I'm sorry."
"We'd better get started, then," Flash said, taking the opportunity to stalk off to the janitor's store for mops and buckets. Sunset felt the tension ebb into the cold night air. When she turned to thank Coco, her eyes brimmed with a small measure of unshed tears. "Why are you still so nice to me?" she all but demanded.
"I remember what you did for me," she said, taking Sunset by the elbow and walking her slowly towards the school interior.
"You repaid that debt long ago."
Coco shook her head sadly and gave her hand a fleeting squeeze. "It's not about repaying dues, Sunset." Then she stopped. "You still don't get it, do you?" She almost yelled the next phrase. "You were like a sister to me!"
They were stock still now, Sunset forced by circumstance to meet those intense aquamarine eyes.
"Single child, alone in a whole other state," Coco continued heatedly, taking Sunset by the shoulders. "With parents who were too busy to care. I never really had a home even before I moved here. When I did," she swallowed. Sunset could feel the tremor of her voice through her hands. "I didn't expect anything better, but--" she paused, took a deep breath "--on that very first day, you held the door open for me. You showed me around and made sure I had someone I could turn to. You were there before anybody else I know. I dare say I met them only because I met you, because you knew what it was like. And you were looking out for me." Coco was in tears now, and she cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle herself.
The realization shocked Sunset into silence, and she was helpless to interrupt.
"I can't forget all that, S.S." she said, calling upon the once-familiar nickname/acronym. "Whatever happened after that, whatever happened to make you just....ignore me, it doesn't change a thing." She cried and clenched on Sunset's shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise. "There are some things we aren't allowed to forget."
She forced her dilated eyes up towards Sunset's stunned features. The pleading look in her eyes screamed at Sunset. Listen to me!, it seemed to say. Please!
Sunset bit down on her lip. "You," she began, but could go no further. She bit down harder, drawing blood before she was able to continuing. "You were always too nice for your own good, Coco." She'd been saying that for as long as she'd known her. They both knew it wasn't true. "Doesn't your memory ever fail you?"
"Only when my friends do," Coco retorted, hugging her tightly. Sunset didn't know what that was supposed to mean, but neither of them could hold back the tears any longer.
"I missed you," Sunset sobbed. "I really did." The memory wrenched at her, and for the first time, she felt, undeniably, guilt, twisting and flaying in her chest. "I'm sorry, Coco. I'm sorry. I'm sorry...." she repeated it again and again.
It was only much later that Sunset deciphered the strange rejoinder. Only when my friends do. I will remember your kindness forever, and your shortcomings, never.
Months ago, still on a bus....
"....Wait a minute."
Flash swallowed hard.
"Hang on, you said that you forgot your guitar, right? That's the only reason you weren't gonna show up at band practice?" She had to fight hard to keep the accusatory edge out of her voice.
"Y-yeah. That, and I guess I'm a little off--"
" 'Off' my foot," she retorted, finally catching on. "Seems unbelievably timely, doesn't it? And why'd you have to ask for the day of the week? Band practice is once a week for you. And always on Thursday."
"It must have slipped my mind!" he replied.
'A little too quick on the draw,' she noted. "Fancy 'running into me' at the bus stop, eh, Flash?" she asked pointedly.
What happened next was very amusing indeed. Flash went completely rigid for a moment, back over-arched, hands clenched on his knees. He'd tried to hide it, but years of rigorous posture training at the hands of her former mentor (highly pretentious, though useful) had given Sunset an uncanny sensitivity, one which she exploited to her fullest advantage now.
"Coincidence, I-I swear!" Flash stuttered. She smirked in response, refused to look at him. "I mean," he continued, trying to look as sincere as possible, "When I said I was a little off, I meant it." He probably didn't know he was beginning to sweat. She somehow didn't doubt that he wasn't all there today, but she wanted to see how he would react to this.
"I don't buy it," she stated flatly, then fixed him with what she hoped was a piercing stare and started counting in her mind.
One.
Two.
Three.
After which, she was planning to drop the subject, when--
"Alright, alright," he sighed. "I asked Coco and she said you were headed, well," he gestured to the road ahead, "into town."
Maybe it was the abruptness, Flash's disposition and his abrupt confession, or even how serious it seemed to have gotten. Either way, Sunset had caught him with his guard down, and she burst into fits of laughter at the revelation.
"You asked Coco?" She tried to confirm between fits of giggling. "And she told you?"
Flash, who'd been watching in embarrassed silence so far, protested. "Don't get mad at her, I asked her--"
"I'm not mad, just...." She took a few deep breaths, composed herself, laid a hand gently on Flash's wrist. "You could have just asked." He looked away, grimacing and trying to hide the sheepish look in his eyes. She tried to imagine her two friends whispering conspiratorially and stifled a renewed bout of snickering. "Oh, I can only imagine all the trouble you two had to go through to set this up." She laughed. "I'll have to thank Coco for this."
Flash maintained his silence throughout the ordeal. He wasn't too pleased about Sunset reading him like an open book, but he'd been more surprised by the guile and ease with which she did it, than the fact that she had. And now he was at her mercy. He hoped she had plenty to spare, or he'd never hear the end of this, from her or anybody else.
She finally lapsed into silence, and seemed to take notice of him momentarily after. "Flash," she chided, "you could have just asked me! Why didn't you ask me?"
He shrugged.
'That reminds me,' she thought, and smacked him gently in the shoulder. "Stop that!" she scolded, then softened when Flash seemed to shrink miserably into himself. 'Oh, that was his ego. Whoops. It was time to try something else.
"Don't tell anyone that you don't know, simply for the sake of satisfying them. Besides," she laid a hand on his shoulders, "you don't seem like that type." She paused, pretended to think for awhile, then put a hand on his head and turned his head firmly to face her. "You're fine the way you are. I like you the way you are."
That seemed to make him feel better, and he offered her an emphatic, soft-eyed gaze in reply. "Thanks."
There was more to say, but neither of them could be bothered. A mutually comfortable inaction came over them, and Sunset was reminded of the first time they had met. They had not had the opportunity for such a moment since then. Now, the hustle and bustle of school had faded with physical distance, like it had faded with the passing of time that day. "Perfect," she mused.
"Perfect," Flash intoned sarcastically. He seemed to have recovered, but Sunset knew better. She was probably more familiar with a bruised ego than he was. He was a lot more, ah, sensitive than she had imagined. She found herself intensely interested by this new trait. That aside, she still had plenty of damage to undo.
"Flash," she whispered, "Believe me, I've been hoping as much as you have that we would get to spend some time together, too. Away from everyone else, I mean. And above all that...." She paused for effect, stole a moment to smile at him, putting on what she hoped was her look of greatest admiration. "I know you love playing in that band of yours," she said, accenting her voice on the second syllable. "And you were willing to put that aside and make time."
'--For you,' a sudden voice in her head said with frivolously over-saturated glee, much to her alarm. She shook it off before continuing.
"That, and you tried to surprise me. You bothered to find out about my schedule and you knew exactly how to do it." Which wasn't easy, because virtually nobody other than Coco knew it.
"All that planning, just to catch me in my free time?" She tilted her head slightly, all the while keeping her gaze on him. "I think that's really, really sweet," she said softly, and tousled his hair.
"Hey!" he retorted, fighting her off and laughing.
"After all that," she continued, finally concluding, "could I still say 'no' if you asked to come along?"
He beamed at her, and she beamed right back.
"No one ever hears about this, right?" he asked a little unnecessarily.
"Our little secret," she promised.
He seemed a lot happier at that prospect. Seemed.
As if to dispel that doubt, he shook his head slowly and sighed. "That was barely a legit slip, how did you catch me?" They laughed, but Sunset offered no reply. Only a wry smile.
"You, Sunset Shimmer," he told her plainly, "are crazy. I have no doubt of it."
It took about two weeks for the story to circulate to the farthest reaches of CHS, but Flash didn't seem to mind in the slightest, because some distortion arose, leading to the circulated version stating that Flash had planned every little detail of it. It was then that Sunset had gotten into the habit of saying that Coco was being far too nice. After all, she was the one circulating that version.