The nurse said her wings were dangerous. Rainbow had to fix that. A hoof twisted the knob of her shower as she stepped in. After the ice wind outside, the hot water felt like it would burn her alive.
Wings scrabbled for soap, the bar turning crimson as she brushed it back and forth across her tortured pinions and acid-scarred down. Still, her wings stayed firmly red.
Hotter. The house’s hot-water heater was powerful; it had to be to handle the chill of altitude. Her feathers reached out for the knob.
Still red. Hotter. Get it out, scrub it out. Teeth clenched around a rough sponge as she scraped. Hotter.
Still red. Scrape harder. Hotter. It wasn’t enough.
Rainbow was strong. She could do this. She could get it off. Hotter. Steam clouded her vision. Was it still red? It had to be. Hotter.
Feathers frayed as she scrubbed. Turn the knob. Hotter. Get closer. Didn’t they use pumice stones for cleaning? She had one. Bite it. Scrape with it. Her skin rubbed raw.
Still red. She still saw red. She only saw red.
Finally, the heater gave out and ice water slammed into Rainbow’s wings. Red was all she saw before she blacked out.
Falling. Failing. Not fast enough. Need to—breathe! The water rose up to her snout, and Rainbow’s body convulsed on instinct. Not knowing if she was in a tub or diving for Twilight, her wings worked furiously, thrashing the red-stained bathwater into storm swells.
Her back arched and flexed, stretching already-strained tendons. By the time she’d levered herself out of the tub, she’d already spilled half of it on the floor, and the water was still coming. It took three minutes before she had the strength to stand up and turn it off.
Rainbow slipped and shuffled her way across the wet tiles. Her hooves slid around on soap suds, almost tripping her again.
Of course, if she couldn’t handle taking a shower, it’s no wonder she couldn’t handle a single pony. Not even a hefty mare like Applejack, or a pony with a huge cupcake belly like Pinkie. No, just everyone’s favorite little bookworm, Twilight. She’d dropped her right on her head, her massive, smart, stupid egghead.
Stupid, stupid Twilight. Why’d you have to do it? Why’d you have to trust me? Why’d I have to betray you?
The steam began to clear, and Rainbow saw an ugly mare in the mirror. She was breathing hard and heavy, barrel heaving with effort. The mirror mare had scratches all over her face, raw flesh on her wings, bags under her eyes. The bad lighting made it look like her multicolored mane had faded halfway to gray.
Rainbow raised a hoof to smash the mirror and kill that thing, that broken thing she saw. She’d murder that mare who almost murdered her friend.
No. That wouldn’t do at all. Twilight needed her useful, not beating herself up.
The mare in the mirror grimaced as Rainbow splashed rubbing alcohol on her injuries and wrapped them in gauze. She paced the room directionlessly, then wandered across the rest of her house, killing time until she could visit the hospital again. Slowly, slowly, the moon slid below the horizon and sunlight drilled into Rainbow’s sleepless eyes. It was time to see if Twilight would forgive her.
Her wounds may be bound, but her wings still ached. Rainbow drifted on the few thermals she could find, but they were few and far between in this biting winter. She gritted her teeth and pushed on.
The hospital was easy enough to find; she’d dashed there a few times before, once carrying Spike after Twilight’s magic backfired, a second time toting a critically-injured Pinkie, one particularly exciting time with Applejack in her legs and an angry manticore on her tail. Being an Element of Harmony was a dangerous job.
So dangerous your best friend could kill you, apparently. After all Twi’d been through, to die at the hooves of another Element. Wonder what they’d put on the tombstone?
Here lies Twilight Sparkle. Her friend killed her. Thanks a bundle, Rainbow.
She tilted her wings as she made the final descent to the hospital, pedestrians clearing a place for her on the sidewalk. The flapping gauze on her wings made her look like a patient, but she brushed away the nurses who rushed to her.
“Where’s Twilight?”
The nurses didn’t need any more clarification; it wasn’t every day a unicorn came in with such a severe horn injury. They pointed her toward her room.
Rainbow should probably have remembered how to get there, but she didn’t remember much of anything from last night. She didn’t want to remember.
“Hey, guys?” The mares clogged the hallway, just as before. Rarity had smeared on a little makeup and at least tried to camouflage her distress, but everyone else looked like they hadn’t slept. At least that was something Rainbow had in common with them.
Applejack responded, the shadows from her hat almost hiding her puffy eyes. “Heya, Dash. Before you ask, doc says she’s okay. She’s sleeping, but regular sleep because she’s tired, not bad hit-your-head KO’d sleep.”
Rainbow suppressed a chuckle at her detailed medical terminology. “Good to hear, AJ. How are…” A soft prod from Fluttershy cut her off. “Um, what?”
“Are… are those bandages?”
“Well, yeah. I must have got cut up a bit in the escape. It’s nothing.” It’s more proof that I can’t even take a bath without messing up.
“O-okay, Rainbow. I hope you feel better.” The buttery pegasus trotted off to rejoin the rest of the group, a gentle wing leading Rainbow into following her. Together, the five mares crowded around the door, all trying to look in the window.
She was bandaged, that was for sure. She was breathing, too, if the rise and fall of her bedsheets were any indication. She wasn’t alone, either. Spike, snoring soundly as ever, sat by her side. One of his arms held her hoof as they both slumbered. It looked like he was the only one of them who got any sleep at all, though Rainbow realized he’d probably tried to stay awake as long as he could.
“Excuse me, but you’re a fire hazard.”
The mares drew back from the door, heads bowed and sheepish. “Sorry, Nurse Redheart,” they all answered in unison.
“Well, now that you’re not endangering my patient, it’s time for some news. As you can see, she’s recuperating well, and she should be opening her eyes soon.”
She hadn’t said it, but Rainbow could tell there was supposed to be a but at the end of that sentence. “What’s the bad news?”
Redheart sighed. “Any injury such as hers brings with it a high risk of complications. In some cases, surgery is necessary to correct overstimulation to the cerebral…”
Rainbow put out her hooves in frustration. “C’mon, nurse, explain it like we’re not eggheads!”
Redheart sighed again, longer this time. “Unicorn horns are attached directly to their brains. It’s why they have a much more precise control of magic than a pegasus or earth pony does. Unfortunately, it also puts them at greater risk.” This was when the friends of the patient gasped. This was always when they gasped. Redheart hated this part.
“Since they’re connected so tightly, any sudden shock to the horn can cause a shock to the brain. Falling straight on it from altitude…” She took a breath. “Tests are preliminary, but we suspect significant brain damage.”
Rainbow was the first to talk. “So? I hit my head all the time as a filly, and it’s not like Twilight doesn’t have brain cells to spare. When’s she waking up? When can…” Fluttershy’s wing curled around her and stifled her will to speak.
“I know this is hard to take.” The same line she used every time. “The brain is highly complex, and its reaction to trauma can be unpredictable. In Twilight’s case, this necessitated more extreme surgery. Now, before you get any ideas, remember she is alright, and she’s even ready to accept visitors—”
Rainbow’s ears perked. “She is? Great, thanks, bye!” Her shoulder slammed the door open as she rushed to Twilight’s side, Spike jerking awake from the noise. Somewhere behind her, Redheart tried to explain the procedure while the mares rushed in.
“Twilight? Can you hear me?”
Spike looked up at Dash and shook his head.
“What? She’s lost her hearing? Did the doc cut off her ears?”
The dragon rolled her eyes. “Bandages, Dash, Bandages.” Thick rolls of gauze mummified her head, obscuring all her facial features and soundproofing her ears. “So, you know, someone doesn’t wake her up while she’s sleeping.”
“Oh. Right, sorry.” Rainbow started to reach out a wing, then pulled it back. It wasn’t right for her to be the first of the girls to touch her, not after what she did. Somepony else needed to…
Pinkie terminated that train of thought. The party pony almost leapt on the hospital bed, before Redheart reminded her Twilight only barely escaped needing a cast. A bit miffed but with much more bounce in her mane than the night before, she laid a pastel pastern on Twilight’s barrel. Before the nurse could stop her, she drew her into a hug, warm as Pinkie’s best yet still carefully calibrated to be too soft to injure. She really did have a hug for every situation.
Fluttershy was next, brushing downy feathers over her friend’s forelegs. Rarity would have given the unicorn a kiss on the cheek, but bandages covered that area completely. Spike tried to get in quick nuzzles with Twilight in between the girl’s greetings.
Applejack came in after Rarity, and then…
Something was off. The bandages made Twilight’s head into more of a giant lump, but it still didn’t seem like it should.
Rainbow gathered up the strength to touch Twilight’s fur, frowning at the many small cuts and scratches she’d endured as she rolled on the ground. Small wounds, but still her fault. Her hooves reached higher…
“Um, nurse? Where’s her horn?”