One foot in front of the other. Two steps, breathe in. Two steps, breathe out. Go slow. Keep a rhythm. Don’t stop moving forward. Don’t stop…
Spike stopped. His body leaned off to the side, one hand placed on his knee and his other clutching his burning side. Breaths came out of his mouth in short, ragged gasps.
You pansy.
This time was at least an improvement over the last. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Twilight had been right about starting out slow. He had nearly run for ten minutes this time.
Other ponies walked on the road with him, and it took him a moment to realize he was being watched by passersby. Gritting his teeth together from the pain in his side, he straightened up and stood as upright as he could, sucking in a breath and holding it in a valiant effort to save face.
The splitting pain in his chest and belly were all it took for Spike to realize just how terrible an idea that was. Despite trying to look casual, the air in his lungs could not be contained. The air burst out of his chest in the form of a violent coughing fit, and he grunted in pain as the burning in his ribs intensified. After remaining in this state for he didn’t know how long, he finally mustered the strength to try and stand up straight again.
Lyra was standing directly in front of him only a few meters away.
“Spike? I’m sorry, but… are you okay?”
The baby dragon’s eyes widened. He had not forgotten the awkward encounter with her from the day before. He tried once again to save face.
“Okay? Oh yeah, I’m...” he had to pause to cough into his fist, hacking and wheezing like an old stallion. “…I’m fine. I’m just… going for a r…run… ugh…”
He pressed his side with his balled up fist, coughing some more. Lyra took another step closer, hesitant but nonetheless showing genuine worry.
“Are you sure? I could get you some water or—”
“No, nuh-uh,” he interrupted. “I told you, I’m fine. I’ve got it… handled.” He reaffirmed her. His coughing and grunts of pain, on the other hand, did not make a good case for him.
She titled her head and narrowed her eyes. A drop of sweat trickled from his armpits and down his side, and it wasn’t from running.
“Erm… alright, then. I guess I’ll see you… later?” she asked, stepping back.
“Uhh, yeah… I guess,” he answered with red cheeks. Truth be told, he just relieved that she was going to leave him alone. She gave him what looked to be a forced smile and went on her way with a friendly wave of her hoof. Spike’s sigh of relief blended in with the rest of his huffs and puffs of breath, and he resumed his exercise as soon as she was out of sight.
Or, at least tried to. He wasn’t about to push himself so hard again. As soon as he began to feel winded, he exchanged his slow run for a calm, leisurely stroll. He felt his belly, pressing on the spot between his hard belly scales and his back. The flab still gave to his touch. He sulked.
Same as yesterday, he mused. He wondered just how many days he was going to have to exercise to start seeing results. Perhaps Twilight had a spell that would help…
Pansy, a voice inside his head reprimanded him. Really? A spell? From Twilight, no less? Pretty lame, bro.
Spike rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but be upset with the nagging voice in his head, but he also knew that it didn’t make what it was saying any less true. Which only upset him more.
At the very least, he could still make Twilight think that he was taking this whole exercising thing seriously by walking around town for a little while. Come to think of it, the sun was already getting lower in the sky, and he could probably get away with heading back right now…
Paaaansyyy…
No. If he was going to walk, he was going to at least walk for long enough to make it worthwhile.
He came from downtown and into the residential area. Everything was like a déjà vu of the day before; the same multi-level homes, the same flower and vegetable gardens, the same well-kept lawns which came alive with the chirping with crickets as evening approached.
The same fork in the road.
Before he could take one more step, he halted in his tracks. This was the place, same as yesterday. Wasn’t it? He peered down the road off to the right, comparing what he was currently seeing with the image in his head from yesterday. Sure enough, they matched up perfectly.
He waited there at the intersection, feet pointing toward the right. He leaned forward once, twice, thrice, but his body stayed rooted to the cobblestone.
He couldn’t even really remember a cry. All he could remember is that he remembered. And now that he was here again, he wanted to go back. He wanted to hear it again, to confirm whether or not he had heard anything at all…
The sun was halfway down across the western horizon, and the sky in the opposite corner dimmed to a shade of navy-blue. It was getting late.
Gradually, his feet pointed away from the road, and he took a step back. Then another. Then he turned around, walking away from the road and heading for home.
The nagging little voice uttered one more word in his head, but he ignored it.
Pansy.
…
Three dull, metallic thwacks sounded from the front door. Sweetie Belle turned her head to the sound, smiling broadly.
“Hey, I think that’s her!” she said in excitement. Apple Bloom looked confused.
“Who? I d—Ohhh…” The realization hit her, and she matched her friend’s smile. Even from inside the bedroom, Sweetie’s mother could be heard running from the kitchen and over the carpeted floor, as well as her sharp intake of breath once she was at the front. The door opened.
“There she is!” Sweetie’s mother shouted excitedly. “Please, come in, come in!”
Sweetie heard the petite giggle made in reply, and her face beamed. Apple Bloom’s closed her eyes and nodded her head, now assured who it was.
“Glad to be home, mother! Mwah!” An enthusiastic voice sounded in reply, lips audibly smacking against her mother’s cheek. Sweetie Belle could no longer contain herself.
“Rarity! Is that you?” her voice cracked with excitement. She made a few clumsy motions to scoot herself around on the bed so that she was looking out her bedroom door. Another giggle.
“Of course it’s me, you goose!” Rarity’s cheery voice became louder as she approached Sweetie’s room. “I did say I was getting back Thursday, after all, and I assure you that I’m a mare of my word!”
Apple Bloom craned her neck forward, looking around the doorframe. A white unicorn emerged, tail and mane styled in their usual riccoco swirls and flank adorned with three baby-blue gems. There was no questioning who it was.
“Sweetie!” Rarity took a running step forward. Before either of the fillies knew it, she was already in the room, and Sweetie had been wrapped in a blue aura. Sweetie lurched forward with a small exclamation of surprise, carried off the bed by Rarity’s magic and pulled into her sister’s waiting forelegs. Rarity sat back onto the floor, hugging the little filly tight.
“How’s my little sister doing?” asked Rarity, a goofy grin on her face. Sweetie wrapped her foreleg around Rarity’s shoulders, squeezing her right back. She laughed.
“I’m fine… Apple Bloom’s teaching me math.” She nudged her head in the farm filly’s direction. Apple Bloom blushed, waving her hoof at Rarity from her place on the bed. Rarity glanced over at her.
“Oh, hello, Apple Bloom!” she greeted. “I didn’t even see you there, my goodness. And how are you? Are you staying for dinner?”
Apple Bloom shrugged, playing with the strap on her saddlebag. “Ah’m good… and Applejack said I was allowed to stay out till 8 o’clock, so if y’all don’t mind me stayin’…”
Rarity blew a raspberry. “Mind? Oh, goodness, why would we mind? You’re more than welcome to stay, dear. And how’s the math coming along?” she asked the two of them with a mixture of a grin and a grimace. She knew that was Sweetie’s least favorite subject.
“It’s good, I guess… Apple Bloom’s really good at math,” Sweetie complimented. The pinkish tinge on Apple Bloom’s cheeks turned darker, and Rarity took notice.
“Oh, don’t look so bashful, sweetheart,” she teased. “Applejack’s told me all about how you help out with the finances during Cider Season. My parents I am sure appreciate you helping my sister with her studies.” She looked behind her at her mother, who was standing a little ways back from the door, out of Apple Bloom’s view. The elder mare retreated back into the kitchen, simpering and wiping a tear away from her eyes. “As do I.”
Apple Bloom nodded, adjusting the pink bow on her head. Any attempts she made to look less bashful were met with failure. “Aw, nah, it’s no big deal. Ah like doin’ it. Besides, it’s kinda fun, actually…”
Rarity gave Sweetie Belle a little nuzzle, which the filly welcomed with closed eyes. “No, it is a big deal. Don’t doubt that, please. You and Scootaloo are great friends. Right, Sweetie?” She slowly lifted Sweetie Belle up and placed her carefully onto the bed.
“Oh yeah. They’re the bestest friends,” Sweetie agreed emphatically. Rarity chuckled, but just then, her face registered sudden apprehension. She looked all around the room, craning her neck to search the other side of the bed. “And speaking of Scootaloo… where is she now? I don’t see her…”
The two of them shot each other uneasy looks. Sweetie Belle seemed to silently communicate to Apple Bloom by quickly raising her eyebrows, and Apple Bloom took the message. She answered Rarity, saying, “Scoots is sick today, so she’s at home resting.”
Rarity pouted. “Oh, really? The poor dear. I hope she feels better soon…”
Sweetie Belle laughed nervously. “Heheh, yeah… we do, too…”
Observant as she was, Rarity appeared keen to Sweetie’s nervous air. She gave her a perplexed frown, and when Sweetie noticed, she hastily changed the subject.
“So, sis… how’d the thing go at Manehattan?” she inquired. Her older sister’s frown disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived.
“Oh, the exhibition?” Rarity twiddled her front hooves, appearing as if she was keeping a surge of energy from bubbling up to the surface. “It went… well. Very well. My designs were quite the hit, I must say…” This time, it was her turn to change the subject. “…but I’ll got into detail later at dinner.”
The corners of Rarity’s lips twitched, and it was evident that she was trying to stop herself from smiling. This puzzled Sweetie Belle, but she kept her observations to a mental note.
All of a sudden, the heavenly aroma of baked pastries and melted butter filled the room. The three of them inhaled almost simultaneously, and Apple Bloom’s mouth watered. The smile Rarity had been trying so hard to stifle came out with a vengeance.
“Is that… Is mother making turnip n’ tater n’ beetroot pie?” Rarity posited the question to her little sister, the name of the dish rolling off her tongue as though she had said it thousands of times before. Sweetie tittered with excitement, and her slow nod affirmed Rarity’s suspicions.
“Mom said she wanted to make something special since you were coming back, so…”
Rarity cut her sister off with a delighted squeak, and she began to hop up and down. “Really? Oh my goodness, yes! Yes!”
The sight of Rarity, the pony pinnacle of sophistication, acting like an excited filly made Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom laugh. Though truth be told, Apple Bloom just about had the same reaction. She remembered the first time Sweetie’s mother invited her and Scootaloo to stay over for dinner. The thought of turnips, potatoes, and beetroot all together in one pie did not sound pleasant, and she and Scootaloo had only accepted their offer to avoid seeming rude. Oh, how wrong she had been.
“Alright, dearies! I think it’s just about ready,” Sweetie’s mother called from the kitchen, as if on cue. None of them had to be told twice. Not a word was spoken as Apple Bloom slid the page of math notes and saddlebag to the side and hopped off the bed. Rarity turned herself around and her horn glowed blue, lifting Sweetie onto her back and placing her there gingerly.
“Here, I’ll take you, sis,” said Rarity. “Hold on.”
“Thanks…” Sweetie Belle laid as flat she could, gripping around Rarity’s neck with her foreleg, and the two of them followed Apple Bloom to the kitchen.
…
The pie was enormous, but already half of it was gone. For a few minutes at the beginning of dinner they had all been too busy eating to talk to one another, and in that amount of time everyone had eaten enough to go for seconds. At last, the first one to break the silence was Sweetie’s mother.
“Nopony’s talking. I guess that means everyone hates it,” she said with a coy smirk. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle had to cover their mouths with their hooves to stop themselves from laughing and letting the scrumptious food fall out on their plates. Rarity, on the other hand, was taken aback.
“Hate it? Hate it? Why, I’d never… oh.” She trailed off, realizing the smirk on her mother’s face. She scowled. “Mother… you know that sarcasm has never been my strong suit.”
Her mother laughed warmly. “Oh, I know, I know. That’s why it’s so much fun to use it around you.”
Rarity’s scowl deepened, but she said nothing. Sweetie Belle was overcome with a fit of giggles.
Her mother decided it would be best to bring the subject of conversation to something else. She asked her eldest daughter, “So… how was the show in Manehattan? Did you get a lot of attention for your fancy dresses?”
Rarity could have resumed her playful disdain for her mother, but the news was too good for her to care. The frown lines on her brow disappeared, and she conceded with a roll of her eyes.
“It was an exhibition, not a show,” she clarified with a huff of breath. “But I suppose that doesn’t matter. As for attention… YES.” She nearly shouted the last word, showing her pearly white teeth to everyone present at the table. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were startled by the outburst, and they stopped eating their food mid-chew. Her mother was also surprised, but she recovered quickly.
“Whoa. Sounds like it went well. Any big shots?” she asked her daughter. Rarity scoffed, wiping her mouth after taking another bite of her second piece of pie.
“Hoh, any big shots? Try every big shot in Manehattan, mother. Martingale Galloway, Jennet Jewel… It was a goldmine. Literally.”
“Tho you goth a loth of money?” Sweetie asked with her mouth full. Her mother fixed her with a disapproving glare.
“Don’t talk when you have food in your mouth, Sweetie Belle,” she chided. Sweetie swallowed her food, wiping her mouth with her hoof.
“Sorry,” she apologized. Rarity continued her story, taking a small bite of the pie on her plate before addressing her answer to Sweetie Belle.
“Mmm. Mmhm. Yes, I suppose I did make a large sum of profit,” she said simply, but dodged around the question without saying anything more. “I also got a lot of requests for future designs, too, from lots of different ponies. They were quite happy with the way everything looked, to say the least. It was worth all the time it took to make the new dresses, that’s for sure.” she concluded. Her mother nodded her head in approval.
“That’s fantastic, Rarity. Very happy to hear things went so well.” She turned to focus her attention on Apple Bloom. “And what about you, dear? You’ve hardly said a peep all night.”
The yellow filly pressed her hoof onto the crumbs, lifting them off of the porcelain surface and putting them into her mouth. “Ah’m fine. Just a little tired, is all. Thanks so much for the pie. It was really great,” she said graciously.
“Do you want any more? There’s still almost half of it left,” she offered. Apple Bloom shook her head.
“No, that’s okay. Ah’m pretty stuffed.” She leaned back in her chair, rubbing the tiny bulge on her belly. Sweetie’s mother grinned.
“Oh, well, that’s fine. It’s a shame Scootaloo isn’t here tonight, though. She probably would’ve eaten the whole other half all by herself.” She chuckled. “Oh well. Leftovers are still good.”
Apple Bloom chuckled with her. After all, the exaggeration was only slight. Scootaloo always seemed to have the appetite of a full-grown stallion when she ate dinner here. Thinking about the empty seat beside her, sadness seemed to replace the feeling of food in her stomach.
“So, when is father planning on getting back?” asked Rarity to her mother.
“He’s been away on business for a little over a week at Baltimare, but he should be back on Saturday morning,” she answered. “He’s been getting a lot of letters taking him away on jobs lately. It’s been a little lonely around here, but it’s been worse before. Nothing we can do about it.”
Everypony watched as she scooted back in her chair, getting onto her hooves and walking over to the refrigerator. “So, does anypony have room for some blueberry cobbler? I made it just this afternoon.”
Apple Bloom was about to say yes, but her eyes traveled to the clock hanging on the wall just above the stove, and she gasped. It read ten past seven o’clock.
“Ah’d love to, but…” Apple Bloom got up from her seat as well, pointing to the clock. “Applejack said Ah had to be home by eight, an’ it takes a little while to get back, so…”
Sweetie’s mother looked up the clock, and sighed sadly. “Are you sure? I’d hate for you to miss out. I tried a new recipe I got from the Cakes, and I think it’s going to be great,” she persisted.
Apple Bloom saw the cobbler, and her mouth watered all over again. Purple blueberries glistening with caramelized sugar, a toasted, golden brown layer of crust over the top…
She looked back up at the clock, then back to the cobbler. Then back up at the clock, then back to the cobbler.
She could run home.
…
The last reddish tinge of sunlight peeping over the horizon faded to black by the time he made it to the library. His feet ached and his side still hurt, but he felt like he had accomplished something. Even the nagging voice in his head had finally managed to shut up.
His fingers clasped around the long black doorknob and he swung the door open, stumbling in on a pair of shaky legs.
“Hey, Twilight. I’m back,” he shouted upstairs. The door naturally fell shut behind him. Twilight called back down to him, he presumed from her usual place at her desk.
“Oh, hey, Spike! How’s the run?”
Spike clasped his fingers together and stretched his arms up to the high ceiling, standing on tiptoe with his palms facing outward. His knuckles popped loud enough to echo around the room. “It was good. I started out slow this time, so I ran longer.”
“That’s great, Spike!” He heard the legs of her desk chair slide over the floor, and she walked downstairs to meet him. “I told you that would… heeey, wait a second. Didn’t you say you did that yesterday, too? What do you mean, ‘this time?’”
Spike heard her immediate change in tone, and no sooner had she asked the question that he realized his mistake. His eyes turned into saucers as she made eye contact with him coming down the stairs.
“Uhhh, uh… I’m…” he struggled to make coherent speech. Twilight’s disapproval was written on her face, and she shook her head with a sigh.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she said. “I had a feeling that it didn’t go so well last time…”
Spike wanted to kick himself, but his bulging belly would have gotten in the way. He gave the smile of someone who knew they had been caught red-handed.
“Heheh, yeah… sorry,” he apologized, folding his hands behind his back and standing still in the center of the room.
Twilight glowered at him, but didn’t say anything more on the matter. She floated a scroll over to him.
“Nevermind all of that. I need you to send a letter for me.” She hovered the scroll in front of his hand. He brought his hands out from behind his back and grabbed it out of the purple aura.
“Uhh, okay,” he cleared his throat, getting ready to douse the scroll in a tongue of green flame. “Where to?”
“Oh, just to Celestia,” she stated simply. Spike shrugged.
“Okay. Gimme just a sec…” he inhaled, and from the depths of his belly, belched out a cloud of green flame, enveloping the scroll and evaporating it into thin air. He coughed out a couple tendrils of smoke, and his arms fell back to his sides. “What was the letter for?”
Twilight didn’t answer him right away. She licked her lips, appearing hesitant.
“I dunno if I should tell you… can you promise to keep a secret? Pinkie Promise?” she asked. Hearing the word “secret,” Spike was immediately intrigued.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he agreed to her conditions. In a practiced motion that he had repeated more than once before, he drew an X over his heart and slapped his closed eye with his hand.
Despite being the only other one in the room, she looked to her left and right to make sure no one else could overhear their conversation, and then leaned in closer. She motioned with her hoof for him to come closer, and he did so, stepping forward so that her mouth was beside the hole that served as his ear. She cupped her hoof around her mouth and whispered into it. Spike’s eyes widened.
“Oh, seriously? Whoa, that’s… crazy…” he did not know what else to say.
“Don’t tell anypony, Spike. You Pinkie Promised,” she tapped his belly with her hoof to drive home the point. He nodded wordlessly, and she smiled.
“Good.” Her horn glowed again, and a scroll poofed into existence in the middle of the air, falling to the floor and unrolling all the way across the room, the bottom edge of the paper coming to rest near the front door. Spike’s jaw dropped.
“And now that that’s taken care of, we have a few things that need to get done around here before the weekend’s over. I think the first thing we need to do is…”
Spike groaned.
…
By the time the sun came back up, Scootaloo’s body had hardly moved an inch. But from underneath closed eyelids, her eyeballs rolled around in their sockets, jerking from left to right, up and down and back to the center again. The corner of her lip twitched, and her hind leg followed suit, kicking out against an invisible assailant. She breathed more shallowly, and her ribcage rose and fell in an erratic lack of rhythm.
With a quiet gasp, her eyes snapped open.
Lines of sunlight bled through the cracks in her blinds. They came to rest on her face, and when she turned her head, one of them formed a golden stripe across one of her eyes. Her purple-dotted hoof went up to block the light out of reflex before she went to look at the clock on her bedside table.
It read 6:45. School started at 7 o’clock.
Without any other impetus, she tossed herself out of bed and landed on her hooves. The blood rushed to her head from getting up so suddenly, and her vision momentarily blacked out. She pressed a hoof to her temple, waiting for her vision to return. When it did at last, she bolted out her bedroom door, zoomed down the hall, and raced out the front door, leaving behind a small dust cloud as she slammed the door shut behind her.
…
Both her elbows were propped up on her desk as she stared at the strange symbols on the paper in front of her. She knew that the class had gone over the material yesterday, but the strange blend of small and large numbers, with the occasional squiggly line adding insult to injury, confused her to no end. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she grunted in frustration. She had forgotten there would be a quiz today.
Her eyes wandered all around until she spotted Miss Cheerilee on the other side of the classroom, walking along the far wall. The mare took the occasional glance in her direction, but her focus never remained in one place. Scootaloo’s eyes shifted from her paper and over to the teacher several times, watching her closely and trying her best to be discreet to avoid raising any suspicions.
She waited until Miss Cheerilee’s head was turned away before her eyes darted over to Apple Bloom’s desk. Unfortunately for her, there was a whole row in between her and her friend, and it was impossible for her to make out the scribbles on the filly’s paper unless she leaned out of her chair to get a closer look, which was basically an automatic detention. The colt sitting right beside her appeared to be in the same boat, his pencil held in his mouth, but only a few things written on the page.
Her last rays of hope for a decent grade disappearing, she sighed inwardly, picking up the pencil in her mouth and writing random numbers in the spaces with the faint hope that she would get at least a couple of them right. Once she was done, she slumped in her seat and stared at the quiz on her desk, sure that it was going to come back to her with a red letter ‘F’ in the top left-hand corner the following week.
She looked up at the clock above the blackboard. It was almost half past two; only five minutes left of class. She resisted the urge to smash her face into the desk.
But that was when she reminded herself; today was Friday, which meant her first flight lesson with Rainbow Dash was today. Which meant that she was only five minutes away from freedom.
No quiz on earth could have dampened her spirits now. She had to press her back against the chair to keep her wings from buzzing and propelling her out of the desk.
Her gaze remained fixed on the second hand on the clock, and she hardly dared to blink, watching it make its way around the circle over and over again. The minute hand inched closer to the six with each tick until it nearly split the number in half. She listened for the bell…
Rrrrring!
“Okay, class, it’s time to turn in your quizzes to the front. Finish up the problem you are still…”
Scootaloo slapped the paper down on the front desk before Miss Cheerilee could even finish her sentence and zipped out the door, the rush of air generated from her passing blowing some of the quizzes from the front row of desks onto the floor. Apple Bloom cocked her head, and Cheerilee reared her head back in shock.
“Scootaloo! Wait!” She shouted after her, running to the door. By the time she got there, Scootaloo’s helmet had been donned, her scooter mounted, and she was halfway down the road. She leapt down the steps and galloped after her student.
“Wait! I want to talk to you, Scootaloo!” She made it halfway across the schoolyard before she came to a stop. There was no way for her to catch up; once she got going, Scootaloo was . She sat her haunches down on the dirt, watching her student disappear down the road.
“Damn it…” The swear word slipped out, causing her to slap a hoof over her mouth. She whirled around to see if any of her students had heard her. A few of her students were congregated in the doorway, watching her.
“Did any of you… hear that?” she asked them timidly. Their wary eyes showcased their confusion and uncertainty, but none of them showed any signs that they had heard her curse. For a moment, Miss Cheerilee felt as though she had dodged a bullet. But it was only momentary.
She walked back into the classroom to see that none of the other fillies and colts had gotten up from their seats. They glued their eyes on her as she re-entered the room. She sighed, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry about that, my little ponies…” she said in earnest. “You’re free to go. Just place your quizzes onto my desk before you leave. And have a great weekend!”
As the students filed out of the room, Cheerilee tapped Apple Bloom on the shoulder after she turned in her quiz. The filly turned around.
“Yes, Miss Cheerilee?”
“Apple Bloom, my dear…” She pulled the filly to the side, letting the other student go past. “Do you know where Scootaloo went? Or why she was in such a hurry to leave, for that matter?”
Apple Bloom looked up and to the right, thinking for a second before she answered, “Uhh… Ah think she said that she was meeting up with Rainbow Dash after class on Friday, which is today, so…”
“Rainbow Dash? And do you know where she said they would meet up?” Cheerilee’s question was interrogative, anxiously demanding an answer. Apple Bloom was a little taken aback.
“Umm… Ah dunno. She never told me,” she replied truthfully. Miss Cheerilee’s cheeks puffed up, and she let out a deep breath of frustration.
“Alright. That’s all I wanted to ask. Thank you for your help, Apple Bloom.” She sent her off with a gentle nudge. Apple Bloom waved goodbye just as Cheerilee said, “And if you see her, tell her that Miss Cheerilee wants to talk with her for a minute, and that she’s not in trouble. Okay?”
Apple Bloom nodded slowly, raising her eyebrows in puzzlement. “Umm, okay… Ah’ll let her know next time Ah see her…”
“Good,” said Miss Cheerilee. “Thank you so much, Apple Bloom. Have a great weekend!”
“Th-thanks. You, too.” Apple Bloom gave her final farewell, leaving Miss Cheerilee there all alone in the room.
No sooner had Apple Bloom stepped out of sight that she walked over to the stack of quizzes and snatched it up, removing the bottom one from the pile. She looked over the answers on the sheet of paper, and her eyes widened.
Not a single answer was right.
She dropped the quiz sheet onto her desk and walked out, looking like a mare on a mission.
…
The bookmark Rainbow Dash placed was past the book’s halfway point, but she still had a long way to go. She was a pretty new reader, and despite being enthralled with the story, it was still slow going.
She didn’t know exactly what time she had fallen asleep, but when her eyes finally opened back up, the clock in front of her read five past eleven. Rainbow Dash moaned; she hated waking up this late in the day.
The pegasus stretched out her legs, folding her forehooves together and reaching back until they touched the headboard. She kicked the covers off of her and onto the floor and did the same stretch with her hind legs, and her mouth gaped in a sleepy yawn.
Rolling out of bed, she landed on all fours on the carpeted floor. She unfurled her wings like sails and flexed them to get the circulation back into her feathers before she went out to the kitchen.
Three bowls of cereal was usually her average, but today she was already on her fourth, tilting the bowl and practically shoveling the cereal into her mouth. She had forgotten to eat dinner the night before because she had been too busy reading. She picked up the bowl and drank the milk before lightly tossing it into the sink with all of the other unwashed dishes. The sight of the steadily rising pile of plates and bowls made her grimace, but she shrugged it off. She could wash them tomorrow. Or the day after that.
She had to admit that she was very glad she’d decided to take off weather-duty today, because if she hadn’t, she would not have gotten any sleep at all. Nonetheless, her eyes were still crusty, and her frequent yawns showed her that her body’s desire for sleep had not yet been satisfied. She looked up at the mini pendulum clock hanging on her wall.
Eleven thirty. Plenty of time. She sat down on the floor and preened her wings before she flew out the front door to do her daily exercise routine.
…
Scootaloo blazed down the road, her tiny wings propelling her all the way to the park. When she made it there, the pegasus filly found a tall tree and propped her scooter up against it, hanging the helmet on her handlebars.
She knew for a fact that she was plenty early, but she still wished that Rainbow Dash was here right this instant. Her wings fluttered like a hummingbird’s as she waited beside the tree, pacing back and forth over the grass. The anticipation was killing her, but it was a good feeling. All her life it seemed for the past three years, she’s been dreaming for this opportunity to learn from the very best, and now it was fifteen minutes away.
Regardless of her excitement, she recognized that she need to relax for now. She was going to need to save her energy for the flight lesson, after all. She sat her jittery body next to the tree, waiting as patiently with her eyes aimed toward the sky.
…
The hour hand was inching past the one when Rainbow Dash made it back. Her forehead was shiny with sweat, and she decided to get a quick shower. When she emerged from the bathroom, it was past one thirty. Plenty of time.
She wracked her brain for something to do until it was time to leave. As she sauntered down the hallway, she passed her room, and an object on the floor next to her bed caught her eye.
It was her Daring Do book. Right away, Rainbow Dash felt newfound excitement bubbling inside her chest. There was still half the book left to read, and she had fallen asleep before she could finish the chapter…
She had plenty of time to read some more before she went on her way. Plenty of time. She zipped into her room and snatched the book up from the floor, laying down on her back on the comforter and flipping to the bookmarked page.
The clock ticked away. Her eyes droned lazily over the words, delving back into the story. She flipped the page. Then another. The clock kept ticking, turning into soothing white noise in her ear.
Her eyelids flickered. Her head began to fall back onto the pillow, but she sensed it before the point of no return and jerked it back up. Giving her head a rough shake, she continued reading.
Another flicker, and her grasp on the book loosened. Once more, she sensed herself falling asleep before it was too late and shook herself back into alertness. However, it was only five minutes later that she began to fall right back into the same predicament, but again she sensed it in time. She shuffled over the comforter, sitting up against the headboard to make it more difficult to fall asleep. Confident that she wouldn’t have this problem again, she let nothing stand in her way of reading the book in her hooves.
The book lay flat on her lap, and she snored gently with her head rested against the wall. It was half-past two.
And the clock kept tick, tick, ticking away.
…
At the park, there was no ticking. Only the chatter of a cicada, the occasional bark of somepony’s dog playing fetch in a nearby field, or the chatter of two ponies having conversation as they passed her by.
She picked at a little stone that was firmly planted into the ground, scraping away the dirt around its base. Several minutes went by before she finally dislodged it, leaving behind a crater in the ground where it had been. Underneath, a tiny earthworm wriggled in the dirt, and she watched it slowly burrow its way back into the dirt.
Rainbow Dash was late all the time, she told herself. She probably just had something to do and was running late or something…
Twenty more minutes. The pony playing fetch with the dog had already left, and the old mare whom had been feeding birds from the park bench down one of the cobblestone paths was long gone as well. She gulped, eyes turning glossy as they filled with water. She never stopped looking at the sky.
This couldn’t be right. She really hadn’t been waiting that long, had she? Maybe time was just going by slowly because she was so anxious…
From downtown, the clocktower bell tolled.
Bong. Bong. Bong. Bonggg…
Scootaloo sat totally motionless against the tree. Four tolls. Four o’clock. And Rainbow Dash was nowhere to be found.
Her eyes closed softly, and the tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, trying to maintain her tough façade, but the next breath she took was a shuddering sob. She choked it back, wiping away the wet streaks from her cheeks.
Slinking over to her scooter, she shot the sky one last glance, one last ray of hope gleaming in her bleary eyes.
But there wasn’t a pegasus in sight.
…
The sun’s descent brought its light to the window of Rainbow Dash’s cloud home, eventually coming to rest on the pegasus’ face. The light permeated through her closed eyelids, and she gave a semi-conscious groan, instinctively rolling over onto her side to escape the sun’s rays. The book on her lap, however, fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a sharp thud. She jolted awake.
Her body faced the clock on her bedside table. When she looked at it, it took a moment for her to register the time that it read. When she did, she gasped.
Four thirty. Her lesson with Scoot was supposed to have started over an hour ago.
“Oh no,” she exclaimed, sitting up in the bed and staring at the clock. “Oh no…”
She leapt out of bed, spreading her wings and taking flight through her own house. “NO! Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh…”
She crashed through her front door and plummeted downward from her cloud home in the sky, turning into a rainbow blur and heading for the park. At her speed, it did not take long until she was there.
Flying overhead, she scanned the ground for her surrogate sister, looking for her scooter, her orange coat, her helmet, anything. Any signs that she was miraculously still there.
She was nowhere to be found.
…
Outside, the scooter sat on the brown grass in Scootaloo’s front yard, lying on its side on the other side of the tree it was usually propped up against.
Years of dreaming, waiting, wishing and hoping. All lies. Rainbow Dash, the pony she had looked up to as long as she could remember… was a liar.
Inside, Scootaloo sobbed quietly on the living room couch, face buried in her hooves. Tears ran down her forelegs and dampened the sofa cushions below.
She didn’t want to believe it, but there was no way she could deny it. Rainbow Dash had abandoned her. Forgotten her. Betrayed her.
Lied to her.
Her sobs suddenly ceased. She looked up from the tear-stained sofa cushions, staring past the far wall and off into space. Both her hooves fell to the sofa, and the cool tears turned into burning streaks of flame down her cheek as they continued to fall. She bared her teeth like an enraged beast, and a low, guttural growl rumbled in her throat.
She jumped up from the couch, turned around, and threw a vicious punch at the sofa cushions. It impacted squarely, but only a soft thud sounded from the strike. This only served to anger her more, and she began to wail away at the pillows, hitting them again and again. She swung as hard as she could, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Minutes passed, and she stumbled back away from the couch, bumping into the coffee table and gasping for air. The sofa sat stock still, as if mocking her efforts, her inability to leave a dent. Her weakness.
More angry than ever before, she roared once again, charging back at the couch. All of her fury became focused on the rightmost pillow, and she grabbed a hold of it with her teeth. A sharp tug yanked the cushion off, and with one last, fell shriek, she hurled it over her shoulder as hard as she could.
Time almost seemed to come to a standstill as it flew through the air…
…and crashed straight into the lamp on the other side of the room.
Scootaloo heard the sound of smashing ceramic on the other side of the room. Her head shot up, and the filly’s reddened face, contorted with rage only moments ago, softened in that instant. She whimpered.
“Oh… oh no... oh my gosh, noo…”
She darted around the table, surveying the damage. The sight made her blood thin out into ice in her veins.
The little lamp lay shattered on the carpet, broken into several pieces. The ceramic appeared to be painted by hoof, small flowery designs and intricacies in an array of different colors decorating the smooth, delicate surface. And now, it was ruined forever.
Anger morphed into fear, and her little legs began to shake uncontrollably. “Nooo… no no no…”
Just then, something that could have come out of her very worst nightmares; she heard the front door open.
“Scootaloo, damn it, where ‘re ya?” A slurred voice hollered from the front. The stallion’s voice was unmistakable; the anger it always seemed to carry was all Scootaloo needed to know it was him.
Heavy footsteps entered the house, and the door closed once more, sealing her in. The little filly was paralyzed by fear, rooted to the spot as the stallion came closer and closer to the living room…
A large stallion, around Big Macintosh’s height and carrying a set of wings on his back, emerged into the room. He wore a mail delivery uniform, but right off the bat, Scootaloo could detect the smell of alcohol on his clothes and breath.
Her father.
“I almost tripped cuz of your damned scooter bein’ in in the way…”
Her throat ran dry as he scanned the room mid-speech, his bloodshot eyes eventually coming to rest on her, standing next to the remains of the shattered lamp. Whatever he had been saying, he stopped immediately.
“Y-you… you s-s-said you’d be back Monday…” she stammered. It was all her terror-stricken brain could think to say as she sidestepped behind the table, putting the barrier between herself and her father.
Her father’s face was blank for a moment, but the skin on his cheeks was turning redder with every passing second. “You… broke it. You broke the…”
He trailed off. Without warning, his face twisted up in anger. Scootaloo squeaked in fear, taking two steps back from the table until her body was pressed up against the wall.
“I… I didn’t mean to, dad… I-I’m s-s-sorr--”
“You broke it!” He wasn’t listening. He lurched forward, making a move to walk around the table, advancing toward her. She retreated back to the opposite corner, eyeing him like a cornered beast.
“D-dad, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, please…” she begged, curling into a ball and covering her head with her hooves. “I w-was just…”
“You think cuz she’s not here, you can do any damn thing ya want? Huh?” He yelled irrationally, marching toward her with a drunken gait. “You already did enough to take her away from me!”
Scootaloo’s eyes darted from side to side, trying to find a way to escape. There was nothing. She squeaked, clenching her eyes shut as he loomed over her, choking on sobs as they stuck to the insides of her throat.
"You little shit!"
The walls of the house muffled her screams.
Ouch that last part. But seriously what you have here is awesome update soon
well that was cool tho now i hate scoots father
oh, my.
Ouch, seriously. OUCH. More. NOW
OH MY GOSH! A REDWALL REFERENCE! YOU'RE A REDWALL FAN! YES! YES! YES! To the late Brian Jacques! May his memory and his book series last forever! Wow, I'm so happy! Nothing can ruin this emotional high I'm on!
(Reads the rest of the chapter)
Damn it!
Well, what did I expect? This is a Scootabuse story, it had to have abuse in it. An quite frankly this was the worst day Scootaloo could have possibly had. And you know something else? You know why Scootabuse stories are evil? It' because it forces you to keep reading. You HAVE to know how this story ends. You HAVE to see Scootaloo get her freedom and love and the evil parents get punished, but one problem with that: You have to read through soft-core Rainbow Factory! Couldn't the author at least not show it? Like, just imply it. Like, she breaks the lamp and then
Why couldn't the author do that? I'd actually prefer to read Rainbow Factory than this! At least that one is famous and too over the top to be possibly be cannon. This fanfic is so accurate I'm afraid it might be a Season 4 or 5 episode!
3435141
Really, Captain Obvious? Other than Hitler, Satin, and Sherclop Pones, I can't think of anyone else who'd not hate him after that.
If the author doesn't kill that asshole by the end of this story, I'm giving this story a thumbs down.
Also, I don't care about Spike's weight loss program. Unless the author is planning on having Spike Dragon Punching Scootaloo's father to death with his improved body and muscles, I can't see any purpose in having Spike in this story. Sure, you could say Spike's comic relief. One problem with that: HE'S NOT FUNNY! He doesn't do anything funny in his scenes. Every time he shows up, I groan and pull my hair. It's filler. It's bland filler. Or are we supposed to feel bad that Spike think's he's a pansy? Uh, HELLO! Abused little filly, stage right! How do you expect us to feel bad for a dragon with baby fat with Scootaloo getting the shit beaten out of her! Cheerilee adds more to the plot than these Spike scenes! It's like: "Now for something completely different!" and we get Spike running around like an idiot. Author, please, make Spike do something. At least let him maybe see the abuse, or talk to Scootaloo, or see her bruises, or get roped into some kind of secret keeping promise. Anything! Just give us something other than "The Spike and Twilight Sit Com Show!"
3435474 lol sorry its juse i know a few peaplo who love scootabuse so ya never know what ya might see on here allso i dont thank he deserves death maybe banished to the everfree forest so the timber wolfs can juse do the killing for em
Spike, you idiot! You just left without seeing that you're in Scoot's neighborhood! ...AGAIN!
Aw... The cuteness of Sweetie Belle and Rarity's heightened relationship! It's so cute!
Miss Cheerilee sure is right to be worried.
Poor Scoot feels so betrayed. Dashie, how you could you leave her hanging over a book?
I was right. Scoot's father is Darth Vader.
Wow. I think this was great. I'm enjoying how you write the characters. Despite be fact that this is sad and clearly kind of dark, the writing makes me think I a canon episode. It's just so great. A sad kind of great, I mean.
3435530 I'm just going to take a little guess here, I could be mistaken, but I think Spike is more than just filler. He's perspective. Having these scenes involving, for example, Rarity and Sweetie Belles' heightened relationship, having these scenes showing spikes perhaps-comedic, and yet, very identifiable attempts at weight loss.... it provides perspective. It reminds us how real this is, for someone. It's not that things are either good or bad as a whole. While you're having an excellent day, someone else is having the worst day of their life, and someone else is thinking the day is just ALL TOO BORING, with nothing going on.
Now, These events which seem only barely related for the time being, may later be connected, and the significance may be revealed, but for the time being, I consider spike to be a reminder of perspective. Even as I type this comment on fimfiction, somewhere out there, some small child is probably getting beaten by their drunk father right now. There are probably also some children out there having what they believe to be the best day of their life, right now, as I sit here typing on fimfiction. Sometimes, these things are even closer than we realize, it is just that we cannot see them.
3435530
Jesus Christ, give the author time to write the fucking story. You think Spike's there for shits and giggles? Next to the CMC, he's gotten the most prominence in the story. Logic dictates he's important.
Be patient, and let Arwhale do what he will with Spike at his own pace.
Aaanyways, another gripping addition. I can't wait for someone to find out about what goes on behind closed doors. You told us exactly what her father is with a few short words of dialogue, which ties nicely with Like Shattered Glass' Scoot scenes. We also get a glimpse of why.
3435351
Please don't demand the impossible.
3436136
Thanks for that! I'm really trying to make the story feel like it could take place within the universe of the show despite the dark subject matter I'm dealing with, so that means a lot! Glad to hear I'm still writing it well!
3435888
Happy to hear you liked it.
3435474
I AM THAT IS.
SaWEEEEEEEET! That's what I was going for, and it looks like it worked!
Keep in mind that I have had the plot of this story planned out since the beginning, and I know what I want to do with it. I'm not flying by the seat of my pants. Giving a thumbs down is your prerogative since you are the reader, but I still think it would be a bit childish to give a story a thumbs down just because a minor character is not killed off in the end.
3435530
Then I've got you right where I want you.
Welp, that's a little bit discouraging to me if you truly feel that way about it being "bland" and all. I'll look over the stuff a little later and make my own assessments on the matter to see where I can improve those scenes.
And also keep in mind that I'm not just putting Spike in the story as an "insert comic relief here" character. I think that's a misconception on your part.
No.
3436908
It's good to hear that the connections between the Scoot scenes in LSG and this story appear to be there. That was what I was shooting for.
Thanks!
3440429
I couldn't agree more!
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Before: Yes! I finally got away from everyone to read the new chapter. *clapping hands and chuckling* I'm so fucking excited.
After: Holy shit......you never ceased to impress me, man. This...chapter....was...AWESOME! I can't wait for the next.
3440486
I wasn't making a threat or anything, I was just expressing my disgust for that guy in a clever way.
I do not know what draws me to these kinds of stories but they just pull me in and will not let me go
Oh no. Poor Scootaloo. What beast of a father he is, and it is worse with her mother not being there. Also, I know she fell asleep reading Daring Do, but RD should have put Scootaloo first! Also, I hope Twilight will find about Spike's painful moment when he went for a walk and Lyra tried to see if he was okay, and maybe Twilight won't be so hard on him.
Parents that abuse kids, theirs or otherwise, are the kind of people that get, as he calls it, "no mercy".
"People who hurt kids... they take away the cute innocence that that lets them have fun without worrying about the harsh realities of life until they are ready. I can give these fuckers something to fear... they are right to fear the darkness and the shadows because it is into those shadows that I will drag the souls of child molesters and murderers so that they may spend the rest of their days in complete and total agony."
[turn to look at the camera]
"That means you, Mr. Manson. [literal ear-to-ear grin] Buckle up."
-
That is definitely gonna be a line.
3713660 Pity the man. He has nothing, is nothing, and aspires to nothing. He isn't worth your time or your energy, instead focus on Scootaloo, get her away from him and give her direction. Her father is beyond saving or retribution, be won't understand or feel it.
I don't know why I love dark stories like these. I think it's because I like reading stories about dark things that do happen in real life. Poor Scootaloo.
OK, I have never heard of a school that started at seven. Earliest I ever got was a charter school that started at eight.
Boi okey, oi do burleave oi detect a Redwall reference, burr hurr!
And also, poor, poor Scootaloo...
5402894
The good friar at work once again? All the mice and voles and such need their nourishment! And lets not forget the resident badger. Possibly a second one altogether if a hare is visiting.
I know your pain Scootaloo.
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The last couple paragraphs hit way to close to home for me though.
Move down a line.
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Ah
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Yay! The last two chapters had AB's name right.
This was a good chapter. Other than Scoots getting abused, but it's all tying together well, and I can't believe I forgot what Dashie did. I hope she makes it up to Scoots.
3898224 Where is that from?
Godammit Rainbow. You had ONE job!