After Action

by BlazzingInferno

Teamwork

Smiling was key. As long as Soarin kept that big, vapid smile on his face, nopony would notice him leaving. A smile is what all these ponies expected, after all. What with his being a famous Wonderbolt and, as of this afternoon, officially representing Cloudsdale in the Equestria Games, ponies would assume he had every reason to be happy.

Without a word or a glance back, he slipped into the shadows surrounding the lamplit party and made his way through the grassy fields. Until his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he’d have to stay on hoof. He couldn’t end the day the way it started, with him crashing and getting carried off to the hospital tent.

The gentle roar of Rainbow Falls’s namesake waterfall filled his ears, overpowering the chatter of the partygoers. A good number of Wonderbolts were back there, celebrating late into the night without any of the negatives that once plagued the team’s free hours. Blaze had stopped napping her every free moment away after she started speaking to a counselor about her depression. Fleetfoot hadn’t touched cider since the team held an intervention. Spitfire didn’t shout anymore. The Wonderbolts were a brand new team, full of accomplished and happy ponies that supported each other on the ground and in the skies.

“So how come… How come Spitfire and Fleetfoot told me—” Soarin’s mouth snapped shut and his throat felt suddenly tight. He stood still a moment, eyeing the outline of the hospital tent where he’d whiled away most of the afternoon. Why had his teammates insisted on finding a replacement flier for their Equestria Games event even after the medics cleared him? Why did they try to dupe Rainbow Dash, a part time cadet, into abandoning her own team to take his place? He knew why, even if he couldn’t say it, much less face it.

He took off instead. Within an hour, Rainbow Falls was far away and the familiar shape of Wonderbolts headquarters graced the horizon. Flying alone was nice. He’d gotten a taste for it during his time away from the team, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Now he always had another show or race to train for, and always a pony or two to train with. Flying alone was nice, but flying with a close-knit team like the Wonderbolts was amazing.

The ground came up fast, but he was faster. His silent, fluid transition from glide to gallop stirred up no dust and made no sound. That sort of casually flawless maneuver had earned him cheers from the Wonderbolts diehards that invariably took up the front rows of any stadium. There wasn’t any cheering tonight, not even from himself. Tonight he just flew, then ran, and then walked; these were the actions necessary to get him far away from Rainbow Falls and everything that could remind him about the Equestria Games.

The barracks were quiet tonight. Everypony else was either at the party or on leave. Wonderbolts did that regularly now, taking time off to recuperate and recharge. Soarin supposed he could take credit for inspiring that practice, even if nopony besides Spitfire knew exactly why he’d taken a five-month breather.

“Why’d I come back, anyway?”

He knew why. The adrenaline ride of every show and the familiar camaraderie of every practice were part of it. There wasn’t another place in Equestria were he could perform the stunts he did here, or fly with such talented ponies. Above and beyond those facts was the simple feeling he got when he stared at the headquarters buildings, at the practice fields, and even at the small bed where he slept every night. The Wonderbolts were his family and the barracks were his home. He couldn’t imagine leaving either one of them.

“Hey, Soarin.”

He came to a stop a mere five hoofsteps inside the door and uttered a near-silent groan. Of course Spitfire noticed him leave the party, and of course she beat him here. Why couldn’t she just give him a friendly wave goodnight? Why couldn’t he just go to sleep and try to forget about this whole rotten day?

Soarin didn’t feel like smiling anymore. Instead he turned away from her shadowy form at the end of the hall. “Hey… I’m going to bed. Night.”

Spitfire’s hooves echoed through the hallway as she came closer. “Can we talk about today first?”

What was she going to do, apologize again? They’d each done that plenty of times already, over the years, and this time he wasn’t even angry with her; she’d lied, but he’d given her a reason to lie in the first place. “I know you were just looking out for the Equestria Games team. It’s okay.”

The beds were right in front of him. His bed was at the end of the row on the left. All he had to do was crawl in, shut his eyes, and hopefully wake up feeling better.

Spitfire’s outstretched wing touched his. “But you’re not okay.”

He trotted past her. “I-I will be. I’ll be fine.”

She sighed. “Look, about the Equestria Games—”

“It’s fine.” He couldn’t stress that word enough.

“I shouldn’t have lied to Rainbow Dash, just because you needed to rest your wing.”

Soarin’s wings tensed and his jaw tightened. ”Spitfire—”

“And I’m glad you’re back on the team. I really am. I wouldn’t want to go the Equestria Games with anypony el—”

“It’s not about the Equestria Games!” he shouted.

His gaze remained on the line of beds in front of him. He’d said too much, more than even he wanted to hear. Now the monster was awake: the terrible realization haunting his thoughts for nearly a month was coming to get him, and he wasn’t ready to face it. “Never mind. Sorry.”

She stepped in front of him, genuine worry in her eyes and softness in her voice. “Then what's wrong? How do I make it right?”

Soarin stared at his hooves. “You can’t. A-and it’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m not… I…”

Her foreleg curled around his shoulder. “Come on.”

“When was the last time I won a race, or even came in second?” The words hung in his mind, the realization that had first dawned on him one morning as he reviewed his latest lap times.

“Soarin—”

“Sometimes I hit third… Sometimes. I-I’ve been training harder, but… but it’s not helping.”

“Soarin—”

“And if I’m plateauing… if I’m never going to get any better… I can’t blame you for wanting somepony faster for the Equestria Games or—”

He couldn’t bring himself to add “for the Wonderbolts.”

Spitfire’s grip on him tightened, and a moment later she turned it into a full-on hug. “Oh you big, dopey hunk.”

Soarin’s jaw hurt and his eyes were wet. He wouldn’t let himself cry over this, not in front of Spitfire. The only way to do that was to take a deep breath, return the hug, and soak in her soft warmth. “Maybe I can get up earlier and fly extra laps, or do more wingups…”

She sighed and pulled away. “My office. Come on.”

He stood there as she walked away, savoring the feel of her touch in retrospect. Since when could she be so gentle? “Why? What’s so special about your office?”

“That’s an order. Let’s go.”

It’d been a while since he’d heard that phrase. Hearing it in such a pleasant tone was a nice change.

She glanced back at him, smiling a little. “Coming?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry.”

At last he followed her, his legs feeling as heavy as his heart. She was being extra nice, but what good was that, really? She couldn’t justify keeping him on the team if he wasn’t performing; the Wonderbolts was for exceptional fliers, for winners. He was on his way to being the slowest pony in the sky.

The door swung open at her touch. She stepped inside and motioned for him to follow her behind the desk. “Been a while since we’ve been in here, hasn't it?”

“Yeah… guess so.”

Spitfire rarely used this room for anything but paperwork, as far as he knew. Most of the time she was in the air with the rest of the team, as any good captain should be. The exception was for private conversations, usually with a cadet or a visiting official. Did she drag other Wonderbolts in here too? Maybe this was the room where his glory days would end, whenever his currently-plateauing flight stats took a nosedive.

Hopefully that wasn’t happening right now. He was still a crowd favorite, wasn’t he? He could still hold his own with most of the team. He was still fast enough for all of their stunts.

Spitfire pulled open a desk drawer and retrieved a small wooden box. “Remember this?”

It took him a minute to recognize the lacquered wood and black metal hinges. “It’s your compass, the one that belongs to the Wonderbolts captain.”

She set her compass on the desktop and pushed it towards him. “Check it out.”

He tentatively reached for it with his hoof. The lid opened silently and smoothly, revealing a golden compass rose set into a burnished metal frame encased in glass. He’d seen the compass only once before, on the night when Spitfire received it, and only at a distance. Playing around with an piece of history like this didn’t feel right, especially when it didn’t belong to him. “It’s cool.”

“It’s also going to be yours.”

His hoof jerked sideways and sent the compass needle wobbling. He watched the needle swing back and forth for ten whole seconds before daring to lift his gaze to meet hers. “Wh… what?”

“You’re the heart of the team, Soarin. I’m the captain for now, but… I wouldn’t be if you weren’t here.”

He shook his head, defense of his superior officer and friend automatic. “No way. You’re—”

“I’m a lousy captain. Just today I tried to lure Rainbow Dash from the Ponyville team just because she’s fast. She called me on it, and I’m glad she did. The team’s more important than winning; that’s the kind of thing I forget. An old compass can’t keep me pointed the right way; I need friends to do that, friends like you.”

“But me… captain? Me?”

Spitfire nodded. “If my wings fall off tomorrow, you’re captain. Just don’t spread that around; Fleetfoot’s got a betting pool going.”

Soarin stepped back until his tail brushed the wall. “But… I’m not as fast as I used to be. Maybe I’ll turn that around… but maybe I won’t.”

“Who cares? I’m not going to be in first place forever, but that doesn’t mean I’m retiring when I’m second, or third, or tenth. Rainbow Dash could probably take me on right now… but don’t you ever tell her that, got it? You’re the heart of this team because you get what being a Wonderbolt means, and you remind the rest of us. You get the Wonderbolts way better than I do, so this office is where you belong.”

He inched forward, wide-eyed. His eyes darted between her and the compass, each time frowning a little less. When he bumped into the desk, legs wobbly and heart pounding, he flipped the compass lid closed and pushed it toward her. “I guess, maybe someday… but not now. You’re a great captain.”

“Pfft. No I’m—”

“I’m serious! You push us hard, and we listen because you push yourself harder. That’s why I… that’s why everypony looks up to you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Spitfire muttered through a frown. “I meant it when I said you’re the reason I’m still here. If you go to the Princesses with what I did today, the compass really will be yours tomorrow.”

“I don't want that. You messed up today, but… but you’re trying. You never stop trying. And I can't imagine this team without you anyway, including how we screw things up. Heh, that’s why we make such a great team, right? I’m the heart, you’re the head?”

Spitfire managed a smile. “Right.”

They stared at each other for a moment, tension and hurt draining out of him and leaving only mundane exhaustion in its place. “So… permission to turn in for the night, Captain? I’ve got some early morning training to do tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Go get some shuteye, goofball. I’ll meet you in the skies at dawn.”

Comments

[Bugsydor]

That turned out better than expected.