The Morning After
The sun slowly peaked over the mountains on the outskirts of Ponyville, as if reluctant to rouse itself from a deep slumber. A sentiment that didn’t go unshared, as it happened. Rainbow Dash was never much of a morning pony. As in, she very rarely even saw the morning. Well, unless half past eleven counted, but by that point, everypony was getting ready for lunch. There were days, however, where Ponyville seemed, almost conspiratorially, like it enjoyed robbing Rainbow of her much loved power naps. Like a pair of plump, soft hooves wrapped around her barrel, and a soft breeze tickling her ear, very rudely making it hard for her to resist the urge to flick the ear it was playing with. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, the bed felt a little less spacious than normal. Partly because of the fact that it felt nothing like her double cloud bed she was all-too familiar with, and recognised each crease and fold in intimate detail. But mostly because of the pudgy mass of fur that seemed intent on snuggling her like an oversized teddy bear. With great reluctance and a heavy groan, Rainbow finally relinquished her grip on Dream Land and gingerly cracked open her eyelids. She barely allowed the sunlight into her field of view before hissing in vampiric distain of the basking glow, shielding her eyes with her hooves.
As she squirmed to escape the burning blaze of daylight, the pudgy mass behind her closed its grip around her midriff further, giggling and murmuring something about biscuits and cakes before a small trail of moisture began to trickle down Rainbow’s neck. Just behind her head, she could hear the sounds of slurping and contented moaning, like a baby foal sucking on a milk bottle nipple. Blinking blearily, Dash dared to drop her eyes down to her belly, finding two pink hooves bound around her, holding her firmly against another pony’s chest. The sweet scent of sugar and vanilla wafted over her nostrils, only adding to the constricting binds she felt within her chest. The soft mumbling behind her ears was comforting to her, since the voice clearly belonged to, possibly, her closest friend. But, at the same time, it terrified her, given the fact that Pinkie’s bedroom looked like a pair of playful elephants had romped through it in the night.
Pinkie, meanwhile, was more than content trying to suck the colour out of Rainbow’s mane, mumbling a load of usual nonsense about frosting and cookies. However, the dampness soaking the nape of Rainbow’s neck was now getting very icky to think about. Slowly, she ran a hoof over the back of her mane, pulling her hair free from Pinkie’s mouth and slowly turned around in Pinkie’s embrace, causing the slumbering Earth pony to stir. Slowly, heavy pink eyelids rolled open, revealing the glistening sapphire eyes that hid behind them. She gave a cute, broad yawn before smiling warmly at her cuddly teddy Pegasus.
“Morning, Dashie,” the pink mare chimed, grinning from ear to ear. The prismatic plushie pony winced and clasped her ears protectively in her hooves.
“Owowow, Pinkie,” she whined. “It’s too early for your pep.” Pinkie blinked at Rainbow’s complaint. She hadn’t, in all honesty, been very loud at all. Even Pinkie Pie had some concept of an indoor voice. But her smile returned, sympathetically as she took in the pink tinge that haunted her friend’s eyes a little.
“Little Breezies with hammers, huh?” Pinkie made sure her voice was kept as low as possible, seeing as Rainbow seemed to be nursing the mother of all hangovers this morning.
“More like jackhammers.” The polychromatic Pegasus pouted as she nursed her pounding skull. Pinkie just nodded with sympathetic eyes. She ruffled a hoof in her poofy mane for a few seconds before pulling out a pair of blue, fluffy earmuffs and slid the headgear onto Rainbow’s head.
Rainbow sighed inwardly as the muffs dulled the room noise to near silence, offering her sweet release from the deafening hum Pinkie’s bedroom seemed to irradiate without rhyme or reason. She slowly opened her eyes as a rogue thought crept into her head about her current situation.
“Um… Pinks? Why, exactly, am I in your bed?” The pink mare giggled at her friend’s mild puzzlement, offering a soft gaze as she drew a breath to reply.
“Well, I offered you the guest room, but you insisted on snuggle-wuggles.” Her voice held no sarcasm, or any hint of jest, as she rolled her explanation off her tongue like a casual greeting. Rainbow’s ears flattened against her head, pupils shrinking in mild horror at the possible suggestion at what happened last night.
“Pinkie… we didn’t…?” Rainbow couldn’t bring herself to end her question, for fear of finding her answer unsatisfactory. It was no quiet secret that Pinkie and Dash were cookies and milk together. But then, the same could be said about Rainbow and Applejack, when it came to competition. Or her and Fluttershy, since they did know each other since foalhood. Heck, even Rarity had her moments where Rainbow would never accept company from anypony else from time to time. It wasn’t often, but still. Rainbow hoped that one thing about her feelings within her little friendship group was a secret.
But this would easily ruin that. If what happened last night was anything close to what she was thinking, Rainbow feared that she was about to drive a great big, fat wedge right into the heart of her friends, and the beautiful relationship they all – mutually – shared. Particularly if it was Pinkie Pie she did this with. The pink party pony tilted her head to one side, giving a cute, oblivious look of innocence and, Rainbow could’ve sworn that she heard the sound of cogs grinding in the mare’s brain, as she tried to make sense of Rainbow’s unspoken question. After a short while, Pinkie’s eyes sparkled with realisation; a fact that threatened to activate Rainbow’s Pegasus instincts to bolt at a second’s notice. The grin on her lips, however, was making it hard for Dash to keep her wings firmly clasped to her sides.
“Oh! You mean “did we have smoochy-smoochy tumbly fun times under the covers?” don’t you, Dashie?” The Pegasus choked in shock. Pinkie, the most childlike, and supposedly, innocent of grown mares she knew had just used a euphemism for intercourse. The party planner giggled heartily at the sight of a shell-shocked Rainbow Dash with her wings akimbo, ready to make a hasty retreat of never-ending shame. “Nope. We just snuggled and talked for a bit. You were a teeeeeensie weensie bit tipsy, after the party.” Rainbow allowed herself to relax, safe in the knowledge she hadn’t just ruined everything good in her life. “Wow. Five years old. Can you believe it, Dashie? It feels like only the day before yesterday that Gummy was just a cute little four-year-old alligator.” Dash tried not to react to Pinkie’s weird remark; it was Pinkie, afterall. Of course she’d say something like that.
“Remember when you invited us all to an “after-birthday party”, for Gummy’s first, Pink?” The Pegasus mused. Pinkie flinched, almost invisibly, at the memory.
“And you girls had already planned a surprise party for my birthday.” Pinkie sighed as she remembered how her friends had avoided her all that morning, weaving lie after lie to get out of conversing with her, for fear of letting loose their shared secret. Rainbow winced at Pinkie’s sombre tone, remembering how Pinkie spent the best part of five minutes chasing after her, somehow beating her to each of her hiding places, trying to interrogate her for a reason why she was avoiding her. The day almost ended in disaster when Pinkie threatened Spike, who had been left completely out of the loop in the party planning – being a terrible liar, under pressure – to tell her that her friends were avoiding her because they didn’t like her anymore. The thought that she had lost the five closest friends she’d ever had drove Pinkie to the point of madness, making her mane drop limp, and knocking her for a depressive loop. She, even, went to the lengths of “creating” a set of “new friends” out of inanimate objects; complete with their own voices and personalities.
“That was the first time I ever truly questioned myself as a pony.” Rainbow snapped out of her reverie with a jolt, blinking uncomprehendingly at what Pinkie had just said. “I mean, I’m no stranger to driving ponies away by being… a little too happy, sometimes. But, up until that one time, everypony I met had at least learned to tolerate my behaviour, if not like me for it.” The party pony’s poofy mane drooped a little, maintaining its curls, but laying a little limp at her shoulders. “To think that my obsession with parties and making everypony smile had done the complete opposite of what I wanted, and make my friends hate me… I went insane.” Rainbow was not an emotional pony. As such, she normally had a hard time relating to other ponies’ dilemmas. But she’d been on the other side of Pinkie’s behaviour. Once upon a time, though now she was loathe to admit it, Rainbow Dash saw Pinkie as the Mad Mare of Ponyville, and would frequently avoid her like the Cutie Pox, just because she was too enthusiastic for the sporty pony’s tastes. It wasn’t until she discovered her mutual pleasure for pranking that Rainbow decided that Pinkie was a pretty OK pony. It wasn’t long after Gilda’s atrocious behaviour at her “Welcome to Ponyville” party that she then decided to peruse a friendly relationship with the party mare. And, without question, it was the best decision she had ever made.
“You girls are the greatest friends I’ve ever had.” Pinkie looked into Dash’s eyes, blinking back tears that were already leaking out of her vision. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” Rainbow’s heart exploded. Pinkie was always the comic relief of the group. A beacon of joy in times of fear or doubt. Since when was Pinkie Pie self-conscious? “When I was growing up on my family’s rock farm, I was never like my folks, or my sisters, at all. I didn’t like the samey same-pants nature of the work. I wasn’t happy with just pushing rocks from the west field to the east field, and then dragging them back again when they’d gathered enough sediment. I mean, rocks can be cool, at times, but making them is sooooooooo booooooriiiiiiiiiiing.” Pinkie was unable to resist rolling her eyes at the memory of making igneous rocks into sedimentary and back again, day-in and day-out. Rainbow, for her part, wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought. She was never a pony for manual labour. True, cloud control had some degree of hard work about it, but at least she could make a game out of it, from time to time. Perhaps even make the odd bet between her colleagues over who would meet their day’s quota first. But pushing rocks from one field to the next, just to have to move them back to where they started from? That was her idea of Tartarus. “When I moved away, not long after my sixteenth birthday, I visited a psychiatrist out in Manehattan. I’d noticed something weird in my behavioural patterns, which kinda made me nervous. Every once in a while, after a party, I’d get, like, really, really super-duper saddy pants, and my mane would lose all its bouncy puffiness, and I’d start listening to really loud, shouty music about hurting and… and…”
Rainbow could see the shame in Pinkie’s eyes. It was clear what themes the music she’d listen to entailed. She offered an understanding nod, showing the pink mare that she didn’t need to finish her sentence. Pinkie smile gratefully before continuing. “I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. One moment, I’d be happy and hyper and bouncing off the walls like a filly on the biggest sugar rush in the whole world. And the next, I’d just want to go to sleep and… never wake up.” Despite there being no heart left, Rainbow felt her chest cavity explode a second time. Pinkie Pie was suicidal? And bipolar? OK, Rainbow may have made the odd casual joke that there was something, quote-unquote, “wrong” with Pinkie Pie, but this was just a kick in the flank. For all her yap… for all her “tough gal” image, hearing this made Rainbow Dash, the self-proclaimed “Coolest Pony in Equestria”, want to cuddle Pinkie’s troubles away, and never let her go. “When I was an itty-bitty, liddle-widdle Twinkie-Pinkie, I was very introverted and grouchy. But when I saw your sonic rainboom, and realised my destiny, I wanted to become a happy pony who shared a smile with everypony. Of course, I was still just a filly, so I had to stay on the rock farm for a few years longer. My daddy would take me to new places, when he was on business visits, and I’d plan party after party, but I never strayed too far from my home at the farm.” Pinkie’s mane deflated a little further, the bottom half of her coiffure going almost completely straight as it fell about her shoulders. “But I didn’t want to go back to being a miserable mopey-pants, back at the farm. So I started pretending that it wasn’t me working on the farm. I started imagining that I was Pinkie Pie, the happy-go-lucky party pony who loved meeting new ponies and making them smile. And the pony working on the rock farm just looked like me; Pinkamena Diane Pie.” Rainbow flinched as Pinkie seemed to, almost, spit her birth name out like a bitter poison, as if this “Pinkamena” pony was a separate entity from her, who bullied her as a filly. “Sometimes, if I feel like I’m running out of happiness; like when somepony says I put too much grape juice in the punch at a party, and nopony drinks it after they announce it, I find a quiet room and just allow Pinkamena to come to the surface, so I can get the saddy vibes out, and go back to the party as the happy party pony everypony expects me to be.” Dash wiped a hoof nonchalantly across her eye. She didn’t like having dust in her eye, so that was the reason she even touched her face. The moisture that was seeping into the fur beneath her eye was just her hay fever acting up.
“Then that one time, when I went to the mirror pool… I was SO scared I was going to lose my life and my friends.” Rainbow hissed with bitter nostalgia. Pinkie Pie had gotten it into her head that she had to ration out her time with her friends, so she could join in with every little bit of fun her friends were having in a day. She got the “brilliant” idea to make a visit to the mythical mirror pool, and make multiple copies of herself, so she could be in more than one place at once, allowing her to share in all the fun activities her friends were partaking in. The problem was; Pinkie Pie – the original Pinkie Pie, that is – had grown, quite considerably, as a pony, and had learned to show a little bit of restraint around her friends, so that she didn’t end up upsetting them. The mirror pool, however, didn’t have the same experience that Pinkie Pie had, and so her clones were based on the raw template of Pinkie Pie’s infamous madness and hyperactive obsession with having fun.
Needless to say, the pink stampede that swiftly followed brought chaos and untold misery to the ponies Pinkie Pie treasured, and more than a few unkind words were thrown around by a few riled ponies at the arrival of tens of dozens of Pinkie Pies. Seeing how her over exuberant clones were upsetting her friends brought out another of Pinkie’s episodes, if not quite as strong as the mental breakdown she suffered over her surprise birthday party. In the end, it was Pinkie’s brilliant idea to test the Pinkie clones with a task that Pinkie Pie hated; something arbitrary and boring. For over four hours, Pinkie had to sit stock still in Ponyville City Hall, watching a wall of purple paint dry, without getting distracted by simple pleasures, like a transmuted orange-frog, changing the shape of her face, or inflating her hoof to grow a set of opposable digits. Happily, the test worked out for the best, as only the real Pinkie Pie would be so dedicated to staying focused, for the sake of staying with her friends, to sit and actually watch a wall of paint dry without so much as blinking.
“But worst of all,” she continued. “When I broke my golden rule of bringing happiness and joy to my friends, because of my selfish Pinkie Pride, and allowing myself to get so competitive with Cheese Sandwich that I forgot what the most important thing in party planning is.” Her eyes fixed their gaze on Rainbow’s, fresh tears pooling, threatening to fall from the weight that seemed to be crushing her Pinkie spirit. “I forgot that it was your birthiversary, Dashie. I was so focused on how I wanted it to be perfect, that I completely disregarded what you wanted for your party. I was so caught up in out-goofing Cheese, that I was just making you miserable in the process.”
Was it possible for your heart to explode three times? Rainbow hoped to Celestia that it wasn’t, but it darn-well felt like it, right now. Unable to contain herself any further, Rainbow surprised the party pony by wrapping her up in her wings and hooves in a crushing embrace, burying her muzzle deep into the pink pony’s shoulder. The overwhelming scent of vanilla and baking ingredients flooded her nostrils, but Rainbow just inhaled the stench deeply, savouring the feeling of Pinkie’s body. The warmth from her fur could melt ice from a frozen lake, if it were winter. Her body felt soft and pudgy, no doubt from all the sweets and baked goods Pinkie seemed to inhale on an hourly basis. To say Pinkie was tubby, however, would be too mean. Being an Earth pony, she definitely had a well-toned physique, despite the extra fudge-pudge she sported. It was an odd combination; being soft and cuddly like a teddy bear, and yet having enough underlying muscle tone that the Earth pony baker could easily rival a Pegasus, athletically speaking. Pinkie blinked for a second before gratefully returning the embrace.
“You weren’t making me miserable, Pinkie.” Rainbow’s voice was muffled, quite considerably, from how deep she’d buried her muzzle into Pinkie’s fur, but the party pony could still hear her clearly.
“But I wasn’t being a very good friend, Dashie,” she reasoned, to which Dash couldn’t, really, make a valid argument against. “I should’ve just asked you what you wanted for your party, and been happy for you. You said it yourself, Dashie. My parties are fun and sweet… but…” Rainbow could’ve sworn she felt the bed sag under the weight of Pinkie’s sigh. “I guess I should grow up a little more, and stop being such a little filly all the time.” If Pinkie kept this up, Rainbow was going to keel over and die. Either through guilt, or just through how cute Pinkie Pie looked with flat hair, whichever one overloaded her emotions first. Dash locked her gaze onto Pinkie’s, not relinquishing her in the slightest from her caring embrace.
“No, Pinkie. Don’t you ever. Ever! Dare grow up,” she demanded. “I was an idiot to say something like that. Especially in front of your face like that. It was stupid and insensitive of me. I guess I just thought that you were going to end up making my party end up looking like I was turning five years old, or something. But Cheese just seemed to have so many new and exciting gimmicks I’d never seen you do at a party before. I mean, fruit punch lakes? Cake-filled piñatas? Hippo rides? Come on, you have to admit, it sounded epic.” Pinkie giggled as Rainbow’s voice slowly became louder and more enthusiastic, completely forgetting that – a few minutes ago – she was moaning that Pinkie’s whispering was too loud for her.
“Yeah, I admit. It was a cool party.”
“Only because you and Cheese Sandwich teamed up, instead of competing against each other.” The two mares stayed in each other’s’ hooves a while longer, enjoying the companionable silence that surrounded them. Pinkie’s mane still lay limp by her shoulders, but she didn’t seem to show any signs of her depressive state of emotion. She was smiling, but not her usual, hyperactive smile. It was a warm, grateful smile from a pony who had just unloaded a great weight from her chest. Rainbow tried to resist the urge to nuzzle her in an eskimo kiss. She managed it… for all of ten seconds. The urge was too strong, however, and she pressed the tip of her muzzle against Pinkie’s, rubbing her nose from side to side against the party pony’s nose, softly. Pinkie giggled as she returned the gesture.
“Thanks for listening, Dashie. You’re an amazing friend.”
Friend. Yes, of course. That’s what she and the other five of the group were. Friends. Nothing less. Nothing more. Rainbow pulled away from the nuzzle, her smile now a little less genuine than she would’ve liked.
“I, um… I think I’d better be off home, Pinks,” she excused herself, gently, as she pulled away from Pinkie’s fetlocks and slid off the bed. Pinkie’s forehoof remained aloft for a second longer, as if reluctant to accept there was no longer a cyan Pegasus propping it up off the mattress. Her eyes showed a slight tinge of disappointment at the loss of her teddy. Rainbow smiled apologetically as she slowly made her way to the window. “I’ll see you around, yeah? Meet up for lunch, maybe,” she offered, opening the window and flaring her wings in preparation to leave.
“Do you think my mane looks good, when it’s straight?” Rainbow paused and turned to look at Pinkie, finding her attention firmly fixed on her mirror opposite the bed near the door. “Sorry. I was just wondering if I should try an wear my mane straight from time to time. Maybe I won’t have to maintain my happy-clappy silly-pants nature all the time.” The Pegasus turned to fully face the bed, offering a kind smile to the calm Earth pony.
“For what it’s worth-“she bit her lip as she took in the sight of Pinkamena, without her depressive, creepy insanity. “I think you look cute with your mane down.” Pinkie looked up at Rainbow, a look of pleasant surprise gracing her features. “It reminds me of Fluttershy,” Rainbow elaborated. “It looks good on you.” The Earth pony nodded, giving a small smile of gratitude before dismounting the bed and plodding over to Rainbow to hug her one more time.
“See you at lunch time, Dashie.” Rainbow beamed as she gave an affirmative nod.
“Lunch time.” And, without another word, she flew through the window and out into the Ponyville sky. Pinkie watched her go, with a smile on her lips. She felt better for having talked to Rainbow about her feelings, and was grateful that she had her friends to support her. But she felt a little guilty for not talking to Dash about the biggest fear she had, over every other fear she’d had before. Maybe one day, she’d host a private party; just for her five closest friends. And maybe then, she’d tell them how she really felt about their little friendship group. But, that was another party for another day. She picked up her face, practiced her most welcoming grin and made her way down the stair to the bakery, ready for a good day’s baking. She even decided to keep her mane straight, just to see if the “Fluttershy look” really did suit her.