SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Bon Bon's Rebellion (New)

Bon Bon’s Rebellion

Bon Bon knelt in front of Sky’s memorial.

It was a feeble thing, no These Are My Jewels for certain: just a portrait of Sky in a silver frame, propped up on the edge of the pool that surrounded the Huntsman and Huntress statue in the courtyard. The words In Loving Memory, Sky Lark had been etched on a little piece of brass that sat beside his picture. A couple of candles had burned beside the picture, but they had mostly melted down to wax by now; some bouquets of flowers — every first year team had laid one — had sat before the stone wall, but they had all wilted by now. It was all rather pathetic.

A bit like Team BLBL, if she was being honest with herself.

Bon Bon wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn’t wanted this. Not this. She had wanted … it was hard for her, looking back, to remember just what she had wanted. What had brought her to this point.

Obedience had brought her to this point. Duty had brought her to this point. Doing as she was told despite her reservations had brought her to this point.

Envy had brought her to this point.

No one had ever thought that Bonnie Bonaventure was the stuff that greatness was made of. No one had ever marked her as someone likely to make a great impact on the world. She was fine. She was not perfect, but she was perfectly ordinary.

She should have been content with that. She should have been content to be ordinary, content to have what she had and grateful that she had it better than others. She should have been content with the fact that she was not Sunset Shimmer: alone, friendless, consumed with misery and anger and resentment. She should have been content with the fact that she had Lyra, that she was on occasional terms with the cool crowd that had gathered around Rainbow Dash and Twilight, should have been content to be one amongst many.

But what teenager is truly content to be one amongst many? Who does not dream of glory? Who does not yearn for recognition? Who doesn’t want to be called the Ace of Canterlot, to have eyes follow them down the corridor, to be the name on every tongue, to have all the guys drooling over you? Who doesn’t want to soar?

She had had a secret then, a secret that no one knew, not even Lyra. A secret … admirer, you might say. Someone who understood. Someone who listened. Someone who promised he could help.

When Bon Bon was young, when she was only a girl, when she went by the name of Sweetie Drops, she had been in … an explosion. Her parents had been huntsmen — at the time, she had known no more than that — and they had been killed in a bombing; retaliation for some mission they had completed.

The White Fang had condemned the bombing, of course; this had been years before Sienna Khan took over, but there had been rogues then, lone wolves, isolated incidents. The White Fang had condemned them all, growing less and less sincere each time the old familiar clichés fell from the lips of Ghira Belladonna, until finally he had gotten out of the way so that Sienna Khan could say what those animals had no doubt been thinking for years: we want you dead.

They had killed her parents and left her … well, she had needed a little putting back together. Fortunately, her mother had had a fair amount of lien squirrelled away, and one of the very best doctors in Atlas had been found to care for her in her hour of need.

His name was Arthur Watts.

He had made her better, seemingly in every sense of the word. And after he was done, after she was released into the foster system, they had kept in touch. He was the one constant figure in her life, in a world where homes came and went, where families never lasted more than a couple of months, where people tried on children like they might try on gloves or shoes at the store, Arthur Watts had always been there. And not only because she had to keep going back to have her augmentations modified to take account of her growth, but just because he liked her. He was interested in her; he listened to what she had to say.

He talked to her like a grown-up, even when she was not. It was Arthur Watts who, using his clearance from his work as a government scientist, revealed to her that her parents had not just been huntsmen, but part of a top-secret organisation called Division, dedicated to working in the shadows to protect the world from danger, by any means necessary.

When he told her that Division was being shut down on General Ironwood’s orders, Doctor Watts had been furious; he had raged against Ironwood’s short-sightedness, his petty morality, his refusal to acknowledge that not all battles were fought in the open with swords, but some with dirty knives in back alleys. Bon Bon had agreed, at the time; it had seemed like a betrayal of everything her parents had fought for. Everything that they had died for.

It had not been long after that when Doctor Watts had asked if she would help him. He was starting a new organisation, one that would require him to disappear, to be thought dead, but he wanted to stay in touch with Sweetie Drops. He wanted her to join him, to help him, to do the necessary work that others flinched from.

How could she refuse? How could she refuse Doctor Arthur Watts, charming, intelligent, cultured, refined, interested in her? How could she refuse the only person who had given a damn about her since her parents died? How could she refuse the shoulder that she had cried on, her solace and confessor, the saviour of her life?

How could she refuse?

She had not refused.

She had thought herself so lucky then. So blessed, so fortunate, so chosen. Doctor Watts’ conditions had been a little odd, but not arduous: she had to change her name, which she had done with a light heart because her old name meant little and less to her by this point. Sweetie Drops, the name of an orphan, passed between foster families who had never wanted her. Becoming Bonnie Bonaventure had been the easiest thing in the world. What better way to start a new life than to become someone else?

The other condition had been to hold back, and Bon Bon had at first assured Doctor Watts that she was doing just that, but the truth was … the truth was that even if she had exerted herself to her fullest, even if she had run as fast as she could, even if she had hit as hard as she could, then she still wouldn’t have been as fast or as strong as Rainbow Dash, still wouldn’t have been as smart as Twilight. She could have proven herself to be stronger than Lyra or Sunset — Sunset when she had been holding back in her turn, at least — but instead, she had kept herself at about Lyra’s level.

She had been perfectly ordinary.

And she had hated it.

She had wanted to be more. She had wanted to shine, she had wanted to fly above the rest, and if she could not do that, she had at least wanted to know that she could have.

She had wanted to wipe that smile off Rainbow Dash’s face, or at least to know that she could have.

Well, some of the time anyway. Rainbow was a faunus, but the White Fang had attacked her and the others. But she was a faunus, and she smiled too much and laughed too loud, and everyone thought she was wonderful.

Except Lyra. Lyra thought Bon Bon was wonderful. Just as she was. Just as she was pretending to be. Lyra thought Bon Bon was wonderful, even though she was perfectly ordinary.

That ought to have been enough for her. That ought to have been enough to say ‘no thank you, Doctor, I’m very grateful, but I don’t want to do this any more.’ Enough to leave it to him, to others who were older, wiser, more professional.

Really, the fact that he wanted to recruit a kid for his venture probably should have been a clue.

At the time, it had felt amazing, proof that she was more than others saw in her, proof that she was truly talented, even if her talents were hidden. At the time, it had puffed up her ego ever so much.

The arrogance and the folly of youth.

And he had spun such wonders before her eyes: the world transformed, the fools who claimed to lead cast down, and in their place, men of wisdom and true vision, men who knew what had to be done.

Men who recognised talent when they saw it.

And he had been so indulgent, even listening patiently while she poured out her frustrations to him: how Rainbow Dash was so fast and so strong and it was so unfair.

And he had promised to make her better.

He had made her better, though they had to meet in secret on the outskirts of Crystal City; nevertheless, by the time he was done, by the time he sewed her up again, he had promised that she would be better.

And she believed him, despite how much it hurt.

It was at that point, while the painkillers were wearing off, that he had told her that he had her first mission for her. A task not for Atlas, no, it was far greater than that; he was serving a much greater cause, a much grander one. What he was doing, what they would do together, would reshape all of Remnant. A time of great change was at hand, when the foundations of the world would shift and everything would be made anew. Would she help him in this hour? Would she bring about this realignment? Would she help to shepherd in a new age?

And she, foolish, arrogant, blinded by pride and by devotion, had agreed. Of course she would help, she would give herself to him, she would do anything that he asked. She was at his service.

So had she pledged herself to Doctor Watts. And Arthur Watts, who had always been there, the pillar of her existence, her friend, her counsellor, had given her over to Cinder Fall.

That ought to have told her something was wrong.

Cinder had been … something else. Far removed from the intelligent, educated Doctor Watts. Cinder certainly acted as though she was those things, but Bon Bon wasn’t convinced; as far as she was concerned, Cinder was just a thug.

A thug with big, frightening ideas.

Ideas which Doctor Watts had told her it was her duty to support.

That ought to have been another clue that something was wrong. Being placed under the command of a hoodlum with pretensions and a thin veneer of cultivation might have been irksome, but acceptable; but to be ordered to play some small part in the downfall of a kingdom … that ought to have told her that she had not signed up for what she thought she had been signing up for.

A small part. A small part. A small part, that was not what she had signed up for either. Doctor Watts had flattered her, cultivated her, promised her recognition when the dust had settled; he had promised her that all of the secrecy, all of the holding back, all of the playing the fool, all the being perfectly ordinary, it was all leading up to something grand and glorious, and once their great work was completed, well, then … then things would be different.

But she had only been relegated to a small part. A part that was nonexistent most of the time. It was not what she had expected.

But it seemed that it was all she was fit for, and Bon Bon had to look at her performance and concede that, most of the time, she didn’t even manage that. All of Doctor Watts’ promises had been lies, it seemed … but the greatest lie was that she had potential.

Bon Bon looked down at her hands, closing them into fists one by one. Perhaps … perhaps she wasn’t even holding back at all? Perhaps this really was her level? Perhaps … no. No, she could not believe that. She could not allow herself to believe that. She might not be smart, she might not have received any enhancements to her brain, but if she went all out, then she’d show that damn cat and pony show a thing or two.

Perhaps she ought to do just that. Get it over with. Go for them as soon as they got back from Atlas — from Atlas! Rainbow Dash parading her White Fang pet around the city, it was obscene! — one last fight, and then she would join Sky.

Then she could tell him how sorry she was.

This was all her fault. All of it. She should have called it quits long ago. She should have refused to go along with it once Cinder explained her endgame. She should have refused to go along with it once she understood that the White Fang were involved. She should have refused to go along with it once Cinder was rumbled at the dance. So many places where she could and should have stopped, have turned away.

If she had, even if she had refused to lead her team into the Breach, then she would have saved Sky. He’d still be here.

If only she could have been content.

It was no bad life, being Bonnie Bonaventure. In fact, since Blake had left, it was … it was rather like a dream. The dream of a villain who thought she was a hero, the dream of a perfectly ordinary girl who thought she was more than that, the dream of a victim who thought she was perfectly ordinary.

Whoever’s dream it was, it was a dream all the same. She had been team leader, one of the chosen, and yes, she hadn’t been Professor Ozpin’s first choice, but he had chosen her nevertheless. Chosen her in ways that it might be said that Doctor Watts had not. Real trust had been reposed in her in ways that Doctor Watts and Cinder Fall had not bothered to do.

And she had had Lyra, sweet Lyra, kind Lyra, constant Lyra, Lyra who had had her back from the moment she met her, Lyra who was annoying in a way that you could never stay mad at for longer than about ten seconds, Lyra who had no secrets, Lyra with nothing to hide, Lyra the songstress, Lyra her friend. Lyra who, like her, knew the pain of being overlooked, your inner worth denied, and yet bore it with a patient shrug and no resentment.

And Dove had joined them too. Stuffy, prosy, sad, and melancholy Dove with his broken heart that was nevertheless so full of valour. Dove who was the best of them in many ways — the best in combat class, certainly, the hardest worker in class even if he didn’t get the best grades. The one who, out of all of them, came closest to what they called a true huntsman. A chevalier who, although he could hardly be called sans pareil at Beacon Academy, was nonetheless sans peur et sans reproche.

And Sky, who had been content to stand in the background, waiting without a trace of anger or upset or envy. Sky, who had been smarter than all the rest of them but had never vaunted the fact. Sky, who had never bemoaned anything except the fact that he couldn’t get a girlfriend — Lyra had thought, and Bon Bon had been inclined to agree, that if he had lowered his standards a little below ‘at least as hot as Pyrrha Nikos, if not more,’ he might have had more luck.

Sky, with his drawings, and his headphones on.

Sky, who was dead, because of her.

Because she had led him to the Breach.

Because she had followed Cinder’s orders.

Bon Bon looked down at her hands and imagined what it would be like to have Cinder’s neck in between them.

“Bon Bon?” Lyra asked, her voice soft and gentle. “Bon Bon?”

Bon Bon did not reply. She just knelt there, in front of Sky’s memorial, her gaze once more upon his portrait.

He would never age now. He would not grow old, as they who were left grew old. He would stay that way forever, sharp of face, sharp of eye, with that hair that could maybe have done with cutting.

Preserved in … not in his glory, for he had never had that, but … preserved nonetheless.

I’m sorry, Sky. I’m so sorry.

“Bonnie,” Lyra said, more insistently now, complete with a hand upon Bon Bon’s shoulder.

Bon Bon shrugged it off. “Leave me be,” she muttered. “I’m not through yet.”

Lyra was silent for a moment. “Dove and I … we were going to go into Vale. We were going to get some fresh flowers for Sky, amongst other things. Do you want to come with us?”

“You go,” Bon Bon replied. “That sounds like a really nice idea; I’m sure … I’m sure that Sky would appreciate it, and so do I, but…” She looked up, into Lyra’s anxious, concerned face. “You go. I’m going to stay here a little longer.”

“I’m not sure that you should,” Lyra said softly. “It’s not…” She trailed off.

Bon Bon looked away, choosing to look at Sky instead of Lyra. “It isn’t what?” she asked.

“He wouldn’t want you to be like this,” Lyra said. “Sky, I mean, he wouldn’t want you to just—”

“Sky’s dead!” Bon Bon snapped. “Sky’s dead; it doesn’t matter what he would or wouldn’t have wanted, he’s dead!”

“But you’re not,” Dove insisted, stepping up until he stood by Lyra’s side. “Yes, Sky is gone, and that is a tragedy. His is a loss that will never be replaced.”

Bon Bon snorted. “Don’t be so sure. They’ll slot someone else in next year, some underachieving third-year who has to retake their second year, some unlucky guy who survived when the rest of his team got wiped out on some field assignment—”

“We won’t let that happen,” Dove said.

“Or maybe if Blake goes off to Atlas, then they’ll mix Bluebell and Iron up and—”

“I won’t let that happen!” Dove said, louder now, practically shouted. He took a deep breath.

“I won’t let that happen,” he repeated, quieter, his voice returning to a more reasonable tone. “I know that I’m only here because of a switch just like that, but … but that can only happen if we allow it to, and I, for one, am not minded to let it. It’s true that we’re a man down … it might even be fair to say that, of all the teams in our year who could be a man down, we’re one of those the least able to deal with it, but nevertheless … I know that I wasn’t here for the beginning of this team, but ever since I met you, even before I was a Bluebell, you girls have been … you’ve been so kind to me. When I arrived…” He paused. “What are you going to do, Bon Bon?”

“What do you mean?” Bon Bon asked.

“I mean, if Lyra and I go off into Vale, are you just going to stay there, staring at that picture?” Dove asked. “Staring until you’ve memorised every feature, every line on his face, every lock of hair?”

“What if I do?”

“What good is it going to do?” Dove demanded.

“What does it matter?”

“It matters that you’re alive!” Lyra cried. “It matters that you’re alive, and we need you! I need you.”

Bon Bon closed her eyes. A sigh passed between her lips. “You are a good friend, Lyra Heartstrings, and it breaks my heart to let you down, but … you don’t need me. You need something I can’t give you. Please. Go. Leave me to my sorrows and to Sky.”

“As you left me to mine and Amber?” Dove asked. He knelt down beside her. “Have you forgotten that you are not the only one whose heart is touched by grief?”

She looked at him. He left her little choice. His rebuke had stung her a little bit. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” he said. “I don’t suggest you did, but … I did not come to Beacon for the right reasons.”

Neither did I. Only Sky and Lyra did that. “You have the heart of a huntsman, Dove, you should have no fear of that; of all the people I know, you have the truest motives for your presence here.”

Dove shook his head. “I came … I came to fight, I came to help, I came because I thought it would be romantic, I came because it was a noble calling, I came because I’d read the Song of Olivia too often, I came for reasons which you might call good and which Professor Ozpin might approve, but most of all … most of all, I came to meet a girl under the clock. I came because I loved her, and one day, she rode away. I came because she promised she would wait for me, and I promised to follow. I came because I thought to find her here.

“I dreamed of it. I dreamed of her. In the days leading up to coming here, I dreamed of nothing else. I went to bed, and I was here, with her. I dreamed of when we’d meet again, what that would be like, how it would go: racing towards one another across the courtyard; or maybe looking all around to feel a tap on my shoulder, I’d turn around, and there she’d be; her waiting when I stepped off the airship.” He started to blink rapidly, as if his eyes were being stung. “Stupid, romantic fantasies, I know. It’s pathetic, isn’t it?”

“No,” Lyra murmured. “No, it isn’t, not at all.”

Dove ignored her. “Except, of course, she wasn’t there. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t anywhere I could find her, and by now … she must be dead. I can’t believe that she’d just go away without a word, without a message, with no clue as to how I could catch up with her. You might say that that’s me having too high an opinion of myself, that what I thought we had was never real, but it was, it was real. It was real, and she … she is gone. Maybe she left intending to return soon, or at least before I arrived but … but she never did.

“Anyway, the point is… the point is that there were times when I wanted to give up, to just sit on my bed and look at her picture until it was burned into my brain — as though it was not already. But I didn’t. I didn’t because … because you helped me. You and Lyra, you … you were there when I needed someone. You reached out to me when I was falling, you helped me see that we have to keep going! That we owe it to them, but … but even more than that, we owe it to ourselves.”

“To do what?” Bon Bon asked.

“Put one foot in front of the other,” Dove declared. “One step at a time, one day at a time, until it gets better.”

Bon Bon blinked. “And when does that happen?”

“I’ll let you know when it does,” Dove replied.

Bon Bon let out a dark laugh, but she did not dismiss his point out of hand. It was … not a bad point, even if it did not correspond much with her mood.

“Do you think,” she began, “do you think he’d forgive me?”

“Of course,” Lyra said. “Of course he would; that’s what I’ve been trying to say; Sky … of course he would.”

Bon Bon hesitated for a moment, and then climbed to her feet. Dove did likewise.

Bon Bon took a deep breath. “So,” she said. “Apart from flowers, where else in Vale were you going to go?”

Lyra and Dove looked at one another. A smile began to spread across Lyra’s face as she said, “Well, now that you’re here we can decide together.”

Bon Bon nodded, and even allowed herself a small smile. “Okay. I … I need to change out of this,” — she held up her gauntleted hands as a shorthand for the armour in which she was clad — “so why don’t I meet you two at the docking pad?”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “Are you actually going to meet us there, or are you going to slink off somewhere?”

Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Ye of little faith, no, I am not going to slink off; I will meet you. Or do you want me to clank around Vale dressed like this?”

“Okay,” Dove said. “We’ll meet you there. Take as long as you need.”

“I won’t be that long,” Bon Bon promised, but nevertheless, she remained where she was, in front of the memorial, watching as Dove and Lyra headed off down the path out of the school towards the docking pads.

Only when they had moved a good distance did she look back at Sky.

“I hope they’re right,” she whispered. “I hope that you forgive me for not … for living when you … I’m sorry, Sky. I’m so sorry.”

She began to turn away, when her scroll went off.

Bon Bon frowned, but pulled it out and pulled it open regardless.

It was an unknown number.

She could only think of one person who would be calling her from an unknown number.

It was like being struck by lightning: first, the surprise that left her stunned and stationary, frozen in place … then the surging anger that ripped through her whole body. It tore through her like a monster hunting for prey, it growled and roared, moved through her, it burned her. It made her hands tremble so much that she could barely hit the button to answer the call.

Voice only. A part of her wanted to let Cinder see her face and know that she was serious, but another part of her was more concerned with anyone else seeing Cinder’s face on her scroll.

She answered, but she did not speak. She did not trust herself to speak. She half felt as though, if she tried to speak, only a wordless growl would emerge.

“Hello, Sweetie,” Cinder said, her tone infuriatingly light and genial. “I have a little job for you.”

A job. After what has happened, she thinks that … she has a job for me. She has a job for me?

“Hello?” Cinder cooed out of the scroll. “Yoohoo, Bon Bon?” She paused for a moment. “This is rather childish, don’t you think? Anyway, I need you to come to Portchester Manor, in between the Red and Green lines; you should be able to find it on a map, but I’ll send you the coordinates. Once you arrive I’ll brief—”

“No,” the word fell from Bon Bon’s lips with thudding finality.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I beg your pardon?”

“I said no!” Bon Bon snarled. “I’m not coming out to some manor house, I’m not meeting with you, I’m doing your job, I’m not doing anything for you, you damn murderer!”

“My my, how you storm,” Cinder drawled. “May I ask what has brought on this unusual burst of outraged defiance?”

“You … you told me to go to the Breach,” Bon Bon growled. “You told me to lead my team there.”

“And I imagine that, as a result of your heroism, you’re now on much better terms with those who once detested you, is that not so?”

“Sky’s dead!” Bon Bon shouted into the scroll, heedless of who might be listening. “Sky’s dead,” she repeated as a sob wracked her whole body, making her tremble inside her armour. “Sky’s dead,” she said, for the third time, as tears welled up in her eyes. “He died at the Breach. At the Breach where I sent him on your orders. You knew what was coming out of there, and you sent us there anyway. You sent him there. As far as I’m concerned, you’re as guilty as I am.”

“Who’s Sky?”

Bon Bon’s eyes widened. Her hands shook so violently that she almost snapped her scroll in half. “I,” she growled, “am done with you. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”

Again, there was a pause on the other end of the scroll. “You know where to find me,” Cinder said calmly. “If you show your face, I’ll face you myself, of course. We can settle this like warriors of old, like Pyrrha and Juturna. If you have the courage.”

Bon Bon’s reply was to hang up on her. She hung up, threw her scroll away, and as it bounced across the courtyard, she let out a scream of rage and frustration.

She would … she would go to Portchester Manor. She would go there and…

And die. And die by Cinder’s hands, like Sky.

At least she would—

We have to keep going. One foot at a time, one day at a time.

No, no, she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t get herself killed in some futile fight. Even she recognised the limits of her skill; if she went up against Cinder alone … that wasn’t a fight that she could win. And she’d promised Lyra and Dove that she’d live on. She couldn’t break their hearts again. She couldn’t put them through that, so soon after losing Sky.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t.

She didn’t want to.

She hoped Sky would understand.

She could … she’d call the cops! She’d tell them where Cinder was, and they would—

Ask her how she knew that information.

Die if they confronted Cinder.

Either. Or. Both. Did she want that? Could she bear that? Could she stomach those lives upon her conscience? Those deaths upon her conscience?

No. No, one life, one death, it was enough for her. She could barely deal with Sky having died because of her; if she sent good men to their deaths trying to kill or capture Cinder, then…

She did not have the heart for it.

She did not, as Cinder said, have the courage for it.

She was not the hero who would slay this monster; she was not adequate for the task.

She was too ordinary.

And she couldn’t think of anyone who was extraordinary enough to manage it.

All she could do was stand in the courtyard and yell in frustration.

“Bon Bon?”

Bon Bon’s head snapped down. Sunset. Sunset Shimmer stood in front of her, looking at her with concern in those stupid eyes, with her mouth open and one hand which she always covered in those stupid dorky gloves reaching out towards her.

Sunset. Sunset was there. Sunset Shimmer. Bright Sunset, talented Sunset, special Sunset, extraordinary Sunset, the coolest girl in school Sunset, wasn’t it amazing what she could do Sunset, leader of the most talented freshman team by a mile Sunset, weren’t they going to win the Vytal Festival Sunset, picked for extraordinary missions Sunset.

Favoured Sunset, blessed Sunset, chosen Sunset.

Sunset who had failed. Sunset who had come crawling out of that tunnel with a grimm horde on her heels.

Sunset who should have stopped it.

Sunset who should have saved Sky.

Bon Bon yelled again, and this time, as she yelled, she charged at Sunset, slamming into her, bearing her to the ground with a slamming thud as she hit the stone with Bon Bon’s armoured form on top of her.

Bon was still screaming as she punched Sunset in the face. Sunset’s head snapped sideways from the force of the blow, even as her aura absorbed it nevertheless.

“Why?” Bon Bon yelled as she hit Sunset again. “Why didn’t you stop it?”

She hit Sunset a third time, and this time, blood erupted out of Sunset’s mouth, along with what looked like a tooth.

Bon Bon gasped. Her aura, had Bon Bon broken Sunset’s aura? No, there had been no sign of it, no ripple of green across her body. Had Sunset… had Sunset lowered her own aura?

Had she left herself defenceless? Did she think so little of Bon Bon that she didn’t even think she needed aura?

No. No, that wasn’t it. That could not be it; it made no sense.

Then why?

“Why?” Bon Bon asked, her voice dropping. “Why?”

Sunset closed her eyes. “Because I deserve it,” she said, a groan of pain entering a voice that sounded tired and weary. “Go on, keep it up. Another good one, and you might break my jaw.”

Bon Bon’s fist was raised, poised to strike. It trembled, but it did not descend. She did not strike again. She … was frozen. The air was thick around her hand and held it trapped as though in treacle. Or perhaps a better angel of her nature had descended and held fast her arm and would not let go.

Either way, she could not strike. Her will to strike was ebbing out of her like water through a leaky bucket.

Sunset opened her eyes. Her eyes which were filled with tears, as best Bon Bon could see through the water which was welling up in her own.

“Please,” Sunset said. “Please.”

“You…” Bon Bon murmured. “You want—”

“I deserve this,” Sunset said. “And you deserve your anger.”

Being told that she deserved it caused Bon Bon’s anger to drain out of her. Her hand fell, hitting the side of her cuirass with a rattling clatter. She bowed her head, and the tears fell to land on Sunset’s purple t-shirt.

“I hate you,” Bon Bon whispered.

“I know,” Sunset said.

Bon Bon scowled, she grimaced, she bared her teeth. “Why?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you stop it from happening?”

“Because I was … a coward,” Sunset whispered.

Bon Bon stared at her. She stared down at Sunset with hatred in her eyes. A coward? She was a coward? It prompted bitter laughter from her lips: Sunset Shimmer, the blessed, the chosen, the elite, the girl with all the gifts, a coward. Sunset the beloved, Sunset in the spotlight, Sunset the coward. Strutting, smirking, proud Sunset, a coward.

Why was she alive when Sky was dead?

Her hand twitched. A part of her yearned to close it around Sunset’s neck and squeeze the life out of her.

It hardly seemed as if Sunset would resist.

But then … well, she could hardly expect to get away with it, could she?

Maybe she was a coward too. Maybe it was a coward to hide behind it, but … if Sky wanted her to live her life, then he’d hardly want her to do it in a cell.

One step at a time. One day at a time.

Starting with stepping away. Lyra and Dove are waiting for me.

Bon Bon rose heavily to her feet. She stared down at Sunset, her breathing heavy; Sunset, for her part, did not look at her.

Bon Bon stepped over her without another word and walked away.

One step at a time.

Comments

[Kiue Jin]

I feel like if Bon Bon wanted to send someone after Cinder that would actually have a chance of success or die trying, Sunset would have been the prime person. Has the added benefit that if Sunset asked how Bon Bon knew, Bon Bon could tell her to shut up and get going and Sunset would likely just... let it drop. At least until after shit happened at the manor house anyway.

[Lancerguy]

Ok, was wondering when this backstory would be explored and it did not disappoint. So is BonBon more machine than man now? It was a little unclear on how she was fixed up but great to explore why she follows Watts like she does.

He talked to her like a grown-up, even when she was not. It was Arthur Watts who, using his clearance from his work as a government scientist, revealed to her that her parents had not just been huntsmen, but part of a top-secret organisation called Division, dedicated to working in the shadows to protect the world from danger, by any means necessary.

There is a reference I did not see coming. Makes you wonder how deep it went

[Mastermind4892]

Good to finally learn Bon Bob’s motives for doing all of this!

And it’s true. If Dr. Watts really did believe in her potential, he would have nominated her for the Fall Maiden.

[Corax Morn]

“I said no! ” Bon Bon snarled. “I’m not coming out to some manor house, I’m not meeting with you, I’m doing your job, I’m not doing anything for you, you damn murderer !”

I'm guessing that's supposed to be "I'm not doing your job".

[Widow Peak]

11203663 And, if Sunset happened to die, it would still satisfy Bon! It is a win-win!

[Widow Peak]

You know, this is starting to irk me. I think it is reasonable that Sunset regrets how the mission went. But the fact that her poor mental state hinges on her supposed choice to press the detonator or not...is absurd. Cinder has been openly deceptive around her, and her betrayal is just the icing on the "Do not believe a word Cinder says" cake. And yet here we are, Sunset fully believing Cinder when she said the only detonator was on the train.

[ElderFlame]

11223494
It's less that she believes it was the only detonator, and more that when she pressed it, in that moment, she didn't care if it was the only detonator. She made (what she believed to be) a choice between dooming her friends or risking all of Vale, and she chose to risk Vale. Realizing later that there was probably another detonator, and that the choice wasn't really a choice at all, doesn't change the fact that for a moment she was willing to possibly destroy Vale for selfish reasons. She's feeling guilt over the mindset, not the physical pressing of the button.

[Widow Peak]

11557496 Then it would be fine if it was just something that gave her pause every now and then. But it is not. It is something that is genuinely dragging her down. She is making poor decisions because she believes she has to atone for what she chose. But there was not a choice to make, the grimms were going to make it into the city, button press or not.

[Adser]

11558396
There are 2 things that you have to remember about Sunset.

1) Her Ego is a really big part of her personality, she sees herself as the center of everything and that means that she tends to attribute to herself all the glory and all the blame. It doesn't matter how big or small her actual involvement is, she will never redirect the consequences of an event where she was involved to someone else.

2) She is an Equestrian, and even if she has never been a good example of their morality it is still the stick she measures with. The mere fact that she was willing to sacrifice someone else life makes her a monster in her eyes, same reason why she has never talked about Adam with Celestia.

It doesn't matter if her actions can be seen as justified by anyone else, because her guilt is entirely made by her own feelings on the situation. She FEELS like a monster for this and wants to be punished for it. No reasonable viewpoint is going to move her on this, just as it has never moved her before on any subject she has made her mind up.