Clipped Wings

by Desrium

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Hope is the ultimate weapon in the fight against the Wasteland. Hope that life will not only be about survival. Hope that a pony can make themselves better.

“I’m leaving,” Falcon wing said that morning, breaking the third day of silence during meal time. Immediately he winced as if saying the words had caused him great physical pain. It hadn’t, but he felt a gut churning pang and strong regret after the words left his mouth. “You could have attempted to think of a good farewell speech, you idiot!” he scolded himself. He didn’t want to leave the two stallions with a negative impression of himself. They already saw him as weak… defenseless… pitiable… he didn’t want them to think he was ungrateful to boot.

“Leaving?” Steiner asked as neutrally as he could muster after his days of grief, laying his can of corn on the floor. Klaxon kept eating. He had is saddle bags set beside him, his headlamps resting on the small table.

Falcon sighed, collected his thoughts and then started to explain himself. “I told you that I thought you two can be something amazing, better than the ponies you used to be and better than the ponies you are now. Well I realized that I need to be a better pony too, that all my life all I’ve done is be a victim. I’ve gotten hurt and have crawled back to those who are supposed to take care of me only to get hurt again and again. I haven’t thought about how they felt about it, how me getting kicked around like a ragdoll was affecting them. All I cared about was the treatment being available when I needed it, so that maybe I could just endure life rather than live it.”

Falcon reached around his shoulders, bit onto his overcoat and pulled it off. In the yellow light of the lamp, his dirty coat, mane and tail were visible save for most of his upper torso, where his black tunic clung to his body. He spread the stubs of his wings. “As you can see, I can’t crawl back to them. Not any time soon. And as much as I appreciate all you’ve done for me for the past… many days… I can’t have you two take their place. Not when you have your own problems to deal with.” He paused.

“You two… Klaxon, Steiner… I’d be willing to say you’ve become my first friends. I’ll never forget you and everything you’ve done when I’m out in the Wastes --“

Klaxon slammed his can down forcefully, making Falcon jump and stop talking. “So let me get this straight. By being a better pony, you mean you’re gonna gallop off into the unforgiving, eat-you-up-and-spit-you-out Wasteland… to prove something to yourself? To prove that you aren’t… pathetic?”

Klaxon’s words made the red colt shudder, DJ Pon3’s report of Arbu echoing in his mind. Those ponies never got spit out, did they? Before he could go off on a wild tangent and zone out, Falcon asserted “No, I’m going out there to help ponies instead of expecting to get helped all the time. I’m going out there to do the right thing, like the Stable Dweller --“

It was Steiner’s turn to chime in. “The Stable Dweller travels with an envoy of other ponies, even she doesn’t charge off into the unknown by herself. She’s not stupid nor is she suicidal. It is only logical that she has survived as long as she has because she is a brilliant tactical thinker in addition to exceptionally skilled. In addition, you are not even a stallion yet. You barely have any practical skills to apply out there. And yet you think you can rush out and ‘do the right thing’? Pray tell, what exactly is the right thing to do when you are captured by raiders about to get -- I don’t know, what? -- your legs cut off?”

“I don’t know,” Falcon answered truthfully. “What I feel is right, whatever option I can choose if it comes to that. I won’t let fear of what could happen stop me from doing something. I refuse to let it anymore.”

"Look kid, if you expect to go out there in the Wastes and become a hero, I think you need a reality check. Better stallions than you have tried and lost their lives in that ridiculous pursuit. Not everyone can be the hero. You’re a colt just over a week out of the clouds without any reason to risk your neck like this. Why do it?” Klaxon queried.

“The same reason why you took me in that night. All across the Wasteland there are ponies who have lost something… ponies who only know what it’s like to lose something. Well, I think it’s about damn time to start giving things back. It’s not enough to scrounge and scavenge in order to survive until tomorrow if tomorrow is only worse than today,” Falcon Wing replied. “It’s time to be a better pony. It’s time to start doing something good.”

The two seemed indignant about that answer, but had no rebuttal for it. “Damn it, I had a feeling this was gonna happen when he started listening to Pon3,” Klaxon muttered. Steiner gave the bronze coated stallion an odd look but said nothing. He too saw this coming.

The bags levitated from Klaxon’s side, enwrapped in Steiner’s glow. “I already packed them full of the things you’ll need out there. The bags are a little heavy but if you want to last more than a few days –- assuming you don’t go and get yourself massacred as soon as you leave here -- you’ll have to muscle up and learn to haul like a genuine earth pony,” Klaxon nickered.

Falcon was at a loss for words. They knew? Not only did they know, but they were prepared to send him on his way, even as they were trying to talk him out of it? He started quivering, fighting back tears. His friends…

“Thank you. Both of you,” Falcon said with a bow of his head. “For everything.”

“Dunt makshe ush regresht thish, boy” Klaxon said sternly. Falcon raised a brow and looked up. When he did, he saw that Klaxon had his goggles in his mouth. He was going to give them to the red colt. “I don’t know if I should feel honored or incredibly disgusted right now,” Falcon thought. “And I don’t even care.”

When Falcon Wing climbed out of that dumpster, his saddlebags were filled with food and medical supplies, the olive green radio with its repairs and upgrades done by Klaxon by hoof. In a strap-holster attached to his vest was the bronze stallion’s 10 millimeter. There was plenty of ammo in the bags but Falcon intended to carry out Klaxon’s policy. Only shoot when given no other alternative. Upon the red colt’s head were the goggles, the lenses resting on his forehead.

The rainstorm had been reduced to a mere drizzle. The wingless pegasus pulled his black hood over his head and trotted off into the gloom of the Wastes, the small droplets hitting his overcoat and running off his sides as rivulets. When he had crossed the train tracks, he looked back at the ruined building. It was amazing that it hadn’t collapsed under the sheets of rain. He eyed the graves of those hopefully put to rest after two centuries and paid his final respects from afar.

“If there is a sliver of hope this Wasteland can ever return to the Equestria you knew then I will do my part to make it happen. I promise,” he muttered to himself, turning away from the grave markers thereafter and galloping away under the clouds he used to fly through.

Comments

[Desrium]

1470806

Thank you very much :>

[Doomande]

What the fudge is this? Another of the ultra rare completed Fo:E stories? Have to put this on my read later list then! Expect some reviews of it later on when I have the time to it

[Desrium]

1485294

I am looking forward to it =D

[Desrium]

1485406

Thank you very much for the input. I would appreciate you give Phoenix Rising the same treatment so I know exactly what to strive for in the third story :>

[Themexininja]

Oh and by the way. The "stable dweller" a.k.a: littlepip does rush off into te unknown... Alot. Especially when she went in red eyes camp.

[Warbalist]

"It’s not enough to scrounge and scavenge in order to survive until tomorrow if tomorrow is only worse than today"

^This. This is wonderful and easy to relate to. Many people have this pessimistic outlook, and something like this can grab their attention long enough for them to take the idea of working to make a better tomorrow seriously.

[Desrium]

3179325

Glad you liked it. I remember when this chapter was actually the original ending to this story. Things escalated quickly, as they say...