Derpy's eyes snapped open, blinking several times before the scene above her clarified. A wide, white expanse stretching far into her peripheral vision was all she could see from her supine position, and a synthetic smell of bleach pierced her olfactory awareness. She was aware of a cool breeze and, turning her head, could see the late summer morning's sunlight piercing what looked like a hospital ward. She was in a bed near a window looking out onto a lazy blue sky, with a curtain on the other side of her.
"Welcome back, Derpy. You've been out for a while!"
The voice made her jump, or would have if her limbs hadn't felt so heavy. Turning her head to the other side, she saw Doc Horse, holding a clipboard and smiling at her.
"Wh-What day is it?"
"It's Thursday, Derpy. The anaesthetic we used to operate on your wing could be making your brain a little fuzzy. Don't worry, it'll come back. Yesterday, you were brought in around..."
The Doc's voice blurred into the background's summery noises as Derpy's memories began fighting for prominence: flying above the Everfree; a sudden, sickening thud; agony in her wing; in Rainbow Dash's warm embrace; leaning in for the kiss...
Suddenly, she started again, attempting to squirm out of bed, however her limbs were still sluggish and she was impeded by her bandaged wing, managing merely to become entangled in her bedsheets. Doctor Horse hurried forward to the side of the bed, ready to steady her if she began to fall.
"What's wrong, Derpy?", he asked concernedly.
"What's the matter?"
Still struggling to extricate herself from the sheets, Derpy huffed:
"It's Thursday! I'm going to miss my shift! I've got to get to the post office!"
"It's okay, the post has already been and gone this morning. I'm somewhat surprised that you managed to sleep through it, actually. Your shift's covered. In fact, a letter was delivered for you, from the Postmistress. You certainly picked the right mare to crash into, Derpy."
Chuckling, the Doc hoofed over a letter and moved out of view beyond the curtain, undoubtedly to attend another pony in his busy morning schedule.
Curious, Derpy opened the letter, somewhat messily, pulled it out, and began to read:
Dear Derpy:
I hope you're feeling well, dear; I heard about that accident. Don't worry about your shift, that Rainbow Dash volunteered to cover it for you. She's not doing too badly, but we did have a spot of bother when she determined to deliver all of Ponyville's mail "in ten seconds flat". Luckily, we did mange to redirect most of the mail correctly, but not after Twilight Sparkle stepped in. While it may indeed be faster, I do not approve of using magic to deliver the mail; however, in this case it is a necessary evil.
Despite our initial problems, Ponyville's mail was, after all, delivered in time. All the same, I'll be glad when you're better and ready to resume your shift
Get well soon, Derpy!
The note was footed by an illegible scrawl that Derpy knew to be the Postmistress's signature.
She had only begun to contemplate the ways in which post might be delivered "in ten seconds flat" before she heard a thud and a rattle of the window next to her bed. Turning, she could see only the shaking, closed, windowpane and a single blue feather lazily drifting downward outside. A sheepish cyan head wearing an embarrassed grin poked into the frame's view and began to gesture toward the window, enacting what looked like an interpretive dance about Winter Wrap Up, but which Derpy construed to be a request to open the window.
Joining in the odd mime routine, Derpy attempted to convey that alighting her bed was, in her current, bandaged state, rather unwise. Her movements were getting more smooth, and, unaccustomed to the ease of movement which rendered the previously super-pony efforts required to move her limbs unnecessary, almost toppled from the bed again.
Rainbow's face contorted with laughter -amid a brief flash of concern for Derpy's wellbeing- before pulling a face that could have only expressed an epiphany, in which she managed to somehow elongate her face unnaturally whilst also squishing her cheeks together with her hooves, and she disappeared. A few seconds later, in quick succession: the sound of banging doors, followed by myriad undignified screeches and an indignant roar of "NO FLYING IN THE CORRIDORS!", Dash's head poked around the corner of Derpy's privacy curtain, to see her shaking with deep belly laughs, helplessly flailing her limbs in order to fully express her feelings.
"Hey! What's so funny?", Dash demanded as she scooted forward to the bedside, holding a large package in her hooves.
"Oh, nothing..." snickered Derpy, "Just... your face!"
"Oh yeah? Well, we'll see what's so funny about my face when you see... THIS!"
And, opening the box, she plopped the box she had been holding onto Derpy's bed, and, pausing before the big reveal, allowed a familiar and infinitely tempting scent to pervade the air. All traces of amusement vanished from Derpy's face as her eyes widened and she let out an ecstatic squeak:
"Are those... MUFFINS?"
Proud of herself, Dash replied, smirking;
"Eeyup! Apple flavoured; made from the best the Apples' farm has to offer, hoof-bucked by yours truly, made according to the secret Sugar Cube Corner recipe with the help of none other than Pinkie Pie; yep, these are some pretty sweet muffins! Of course, if you still think that my face is funny..."
Dash made as if to sweep the box off the bed, only to be stopped by Derpy's proffered hoof.
"On the other hand, it would be a shame to let all of these sweet, sweet muffins go to waste..."
The look on Derpy's face as she all but dove into the muffins had made the morning's labour more than worth it, thought Dash as she nibbled on one herself; definitely worth it.