Sunset's eyes flared open, like the wings of a bat taking flight. The one thing she didn't do was scream, because she was not going to let her kidnappers see her fear. Of course she struggled against the binds that held her down—
—she did cough, though, as her snout hit the hard wood floor.
Okay, so maybe there weren't any binds.
She rolled backwards into a defensive stance, pouring as much magic as her tired brain could muster into a guarding aura. Her eyes darted here and there. Then they blinked shut, because the room was really, really bright...
Bookshelves along one side of the room. A beautiful poster bed covered in messy fluffy white sheets on the other. A small, unused writing desk, a large purple rug in the center of the room, an oak cupboard, and the feeling of stain curtains against her back...
Sunset steeled herself. This was a bedroom. And a pony one, at that.
"Did you hear that?" came a startled mare's voice from beyond the door, at the far end of the room.
Sunset immediately dropped her guard and her jaw. "It can't be..."
"I hope she's okay—Sunset? Sunset, are you okay?"
The door swung open in a shroud of lavender magic, and through it stepped her.
"Sunset!" she gasped. "I heard a kind of rolling around, like something had fallen on the floor. I thought maybe, somepony had knocked something down, and..."
"Twilight?" whispered Sunset.
"Oh. Right. That rolling was you." Twilight grinned sheepishly and took half a step back. "Sorry if I scared you. It's just, when we found you, it wasn't the most pleasant of situations. And I was so worried."
Sunset shut her eyes closed and sank to her hooves. She took a deep breath. It smelled of air freshener.
The last time she had been awake, she had been surrounded by warm, sticky underground air, and the sense of impeding death one gets from tunnel walls collapsing all around. Somehow, they had taken the road less traveled, through the mountain instead of around it, and of course that was when the earthquake had to happen, and...
"Starlight. Starlight Glimmer!" Sunset shot up. "Is she okay?"
Twilight bit her lip. "Well, ah, we only found you. To be honest, we didn't even know anypony was underneath the mess."
"What do you mean?" breathed Sunset slowly.
"Well, I was in the area for a diplomatic trip, when a villager came into the hall, reporting a collapse of the nearby tunnels, and a flash of magic from inside. So we thought, there had to be a pony in there... but I never expected that pony to be you." Twilight bowed her head and stepped closer. "I'm sorry. If I had known..."
"No."
Against all logic—despite the tranquil scene of a Celestia-damned normal bedroom, despite the fact that Sunset had probably gotten am ample amount of rest, despite the fact that Twilight Sparkle was here in the flesh, and somehow their reunion was more radiant and cheerful and just more than Sunset had imagined it to be—against all logic, Sunset's heartbeat doubled. It knocked the wind out of her lungs, and the strength from her knees. She fell head first and pawed at the ground in shock.
"Sunset! Sunset, please, I know this must be difficult, but you have to calm down! Sunset!"
Throbbing; it was always throbbing. Pounding in the ears, in the jaws, in the throat, just behind the eyes, like a pressure canister filling up. It was like this when Flash Sentry had betrayed her for the first time in Canterlot High. It was like this just after her demon form had spluttered out into public humiliation. It was sickening and it was the closest feeling to death she could remember.
"Medic! Spike, get a doctor here now!"
Then, to Sunset, Twilight said softly: "I'm sorry. Forgive me. It's for your own good."
When she came to for the second time, there was no rolling or magic. Sunset simply opened her crusted eyes and shut them again.
Sheets. So warm. So fluffy. She could die in comfort. Wasn't it sad that she hadn't been guaranteed even that, just hours ago? Ponies expected to go like this. Well, if they didn't live in high-risk zones, at least.
Yes, it was sad. That was why it was fine to cry, nestled under the sheets, where nopony could see or hear her.
"I'm so sorry," whispered Twilight's voice from beyond the warm darkness. The space tightened up a little; it was either her legs or her wings closing in an embrace. Not the best gesture for somepony who had been trapped in a collapsing tunnel, but Twilight meant so well, and the contact was so appreciated, that Sunset didn't mind.
"She insisted," Sunset blurted at last, when the sobbing had stopped.
"Want some food?"
Sunset peeked out. Behind Twilight's fatigued expression, a sandwich on a plate hovered. She nodded, and the sandwich was passed over.
"What do you mean 'she insisted'?" asked Twilight softly.
"Starlight insisted on taking that path," murmured Sunset. "She said it was much faster. She was a bit panicky..." A dead smile. "She might have sensed that you were nearby."
Twilight's eyes closed. "She was that serious about avoiding me?"
"I've been wondering about that," said Sunset, shoring up the blankets around her. "If you don't mind me asking, that is. What was it that made her run away?"
The embrace was renewed.
"I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it right now."
Sunset sighed and drew closer to Twilight.
"Uh, Twilight?"
Spike tapped on the door with a claw. "The girls are here to check up on you."
Twilight frowned and stood up. "I thought I told you to keep it a secret!"
Spike shrugged. "Pinkie somehow found out and told everypony."
"You bet I did!" shrieked Pinkie, and everypony in the room yelled as a pink blur dropped from the ceiling, landing with less poof and more bump than looked comfortable. "Pinkie always finds the good stuff and shares it because that's what friends do!"
"Pinkie Pie?" stammered Sunset.
"Hmmmmm?" Pinkie was already in the bed, eyeing Sunset at snout distance. "So you're Sunset Shimmer." A hoof stretched out and tousled with her mane before she could bat it away. "You have a nice mane."
"Uh, thanks," said Sunset.
"Pinkie!" berated Twilight.
"Twilight!" replied Pinkie.
"Darling?"
Sunset watched as the rest of the gang poured in. Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rainbow Dash, all in pony form. While it might have been exciting in a different time and place, when mashed against the feelings of guilt and loss, it ended up being a spectacularly eerie experience, and she felt a chill shoot up her spine.
"Um. I guess I should do some introducing?" said Twilight.
Everypony had been very kind post-backstory. They had all shown a good deal of pain at the news of Starlight's fate. It made Sunset all the more determined to find out what had happened, because firstly, damn if she hadn't tried while Starlight was still around, and secondly, seeing firsthand proof that Starlight hadn't been as off as an angled traffic sign had stoked her curiousity afresh. Yet her former mentor was equally elusive, sometimes claiming duties, sometimes claiming migraines, sometimes shaking her head and outright walking away. None of the gang could really say why, either.
"She was such a dear. Shy at first, but really a dear."
"She weren't a bad pony. She tried, y'know. Hard worker, really earnest."
"She was cool. Not as cool as me, but... yeah... she was pretty cool."
"Uh..."
"Yes, Fluttershy?" said Sunset kindly. It was weird talking to somepony she knew so well who knew nothing of her in return. Like the conversational equivalent of a one way mirror. And it was more weird since it was Fluttershy, who she couldn't help but slip into a certain tone for.
"Can I take a walk with you? Um, just the two of us?"
Sunset followed the bobbing pink tail as she was led through the labyrinth that was, apparently, Twilight's new castle, to the gardens outside. There was a polished tea table and a few chairs, all dressed in lacework; Fluttershy suddenly whistled in the air, and a collection of critters emerged from the hedges, bearing a covered picnic basket like a monarch on a recliner.
With Fluttershy... she was kind. Almost self-harmingly so. It was only courtesy to return the favour in other ways, and one of the most appreciated forms was taking the initiative in conversations.
"Oh, a picnic basket!" said Sunset, lifting it daintily to the table. "You shouldn't have."
"Pinkie wanted to stuff you with sugar," said Fluttershy, bowing. "When Twilight said no, it all went to me. I thought that maybe you'd like to try a little since you're new... but we're not new to you, oh..."
"No, but I'd love to," said Sunset. She dug out a glistening donut. "I haven't had Equestrian pastries in a long while. Not even when we were on the road, either, since muffins don't grow on trees." She smiled and took a bite. Where such lengthy asides might have been seen as rude or overbearing, Sunset saw it as an assisted setup, to get their talk to a point where Fluttershy felt comfortable enough to say what she wanted to say.
"Want one?" said Sunset.
"No thanks, I'm good," said Fluttershy, eyes droopy and shuffling from one patch of grass to another.
There were stages. It was the same with the human Flutters, too, Sunset guessed. First it was the rapid blinking. Then it was the fidgeting around her waist. Then it was maximum tilt of her head so that her fringe hid as much of her eyes as possible, hinting at the base instinct of every living thing to think that if I can't see them, they can't see me, before finally:
"Did Starlight become evil?"
Sunset carefully licked away the remaining glaze on her lips. Pony Fluttershy was a bit better at being blunt.
She figured that maybe it was good to take some time before answering. To reflect on Starlight's quirks and words and deeds, and assess them in the view of both her own humanity and the pony morality. In some contexts Starlight could probably be christened a saint purer than the first snowflake of winter. In some, yes, admittedly distant, even alien contexts. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought it over everytime Starlight acted out, yet, sans time or assessment or judgement, Sunset's immediate response was: "No."
Fluttershy blinked. Sunset shook her head.
"Whew. That's a relief," said Fluttershy.
"What makes you say that?" asked Sunset, and the irony was not lost on her. She blamed the flow, and this narrow-minded view she had of Fluttershy, that the onus was always on her to keep talking.
"Well..." Fluttershy placed her hooves on the table. "I hate to say it considering she's... mmm... but she seemed not quite all here. Like there was something bothering her deep inside. I, um..." Her hooves began to tremble. "It reminded me of, uh, when animals sometimes go feral. Ah, and Discord said he was suspicious too."
Discord? Sunset's eyebrows lifted. Now that wasn't a name she had heard in a while. For Fluttershy to be in contact with Discord, that must have meant his reformation was a success. In the human world, well, it was sufficient to say that man's modern progress had devoured old school chaos and replaced it with unlucky coincidences good only for a rant online, and maybe justification for an extra Twinkie to go with lunch.
Now that every teenager took basic probability as part of the common core, and thought they now could grasp the scope of the universe's occurrences in enough ink symbols, discord in Humania had been bastardized.
"What did he say?"
"He mostly agreed with me," murmured Fluttershy. "I tried to help, I did. I kept asking her if anything was bothering her. But she wouldn't tell me anything. I was really worried for her..."
"You and me both," sighed Sunset. She tapped her hoof lightly across the table, immersed in the clacking. "Say, do you know why she and Twilight fought? Maybe we could exchange information. I could tell you what she's been up to, and you could tell me what happened back then."
"I do know. But—but I promised Twilight I wouldn't tell anypony else." Fluttershy bit her lip. "I'm so sorry, Sunset."
Something else was fast encroaching on Sunset's mind, and that was the realization that she was now living with Twilight Sparkle.
All those feelings from before—feelings of longing, feelings of betrayal—were coming back to her. How she had yearned for Twilight's replies in the magic diary day after day! It had been her only connection to the realm of magic, and she had been Sunset's first real friend in essentially forever. That sort of relationship didn't break easily, but it had, and Sunset found herself with a million old questions, spilling forth from the mental box she thought she had sealed away and hid for good.
How could you just ignore me? Were you too busy for me? Was I not good enough because I wasn't a pony?
"Sunset, dinner's ready," said Twilight, and Sunset snapped out of her spiraling thoughts.
Or so she had hoped. It was more of a derail, with said thoughts crashing and spinning into beautiful messy vortexes as she carried her weight from the bedroom to the dinner table.
No, moping around was not how she did things. Sunset Shimmer was a pony who went for what she wanted, and this... this shouldn't be any different.