It's hard when you're alone. It's harder when you're alone and constantly picked on. Scootaloo's lost all faith in ponykind. A dark and troubled past drives her to the most extreme of measures.
It's hard when you're alone. It's harder when you're alone and constantly picked on. Scootaloo's lost all faith in ponykind. A dark and troubled past drives her to the most extreme of measures.
The first fanfic I've felt confident enough to submit. I would appreciate if you could point out any spelling or grammatical mistakes. There may be a few (I often write late at night), but hopefully not many. If you do plan to leave criticism, the constructive kind is appreciated. If you don't like this kind of story, don't comment. It doesn't help anyone and just gets annoying. Alternatively, if you must leave a comment, leave it in a civil and constructive manor.
Immerse yourself in the story and travel through my twisted mind. Scootaloo's feeling down and you get to follow her as she plummets down the pit of despair.
Chapters marked with a ~ are flashback chapters. These are not essential to the story, but are there to clarify certain things that people are bugging me about. You can just read all of the non-marked chapters and still get the full story in the modern setting, but if something's not quite clear to you then reading the flashback chapters will hopefully clear that up. (If not, let me know in a nice way. Don't be rude!)
Scootaloo sat alone in what had once been her parent’s house. It wasn’t large, more of a middle class sort of home, but it had all that a family could need. Scootaloo had her own decent sized bedroom, fully equipped with bed and wardrobe and dresser and various other items of furniture. There was a kitchen with conjoined dining room, a living room, a study and so on and so forth. Her mother had been a fanatic for white and almost everything in the house, from the walls to the floors to the marble work surfaces in the kitchen, were white in some way. Perhaps the only room which had escaped this genocide of colour was her own room, which had a sky blue wall, cyan carpet and ceiling and primarily golden bedclothes, but most of the furniture was still white so she hadn’t escaped entirely.
She was sitting alone in the living room, looking down at the white carpeted floor. She sobbed once. What was her life worth, really? Her parents were dead, had been for a few years. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had re-doubled their efforts to ruin her existence and had stepped up to physical abuse, now convincing a large number of others to assist them. Apple Bloom had turned on her, leaking secrets to the bullies that were quickly turned against her. It was a shame that ‘loyalty’ wasn’t what flowed through her blood. Miss Cheerilee hadn’t been much help, nor had anypony really. Normally she could deal with such things. When she was hit with each one with some recovery period in between, she could cope. But combine dead parents, plus relentless orphan jokes, plus constant beating, plus betrayal of one of her best friends, plus the ignorance of her teachers eventually equalled a scenario that she quite frankly could not ‘deal with’. Not in a conventional sense at least.
That was when she’d snapped. She couldn’t take it anymore. She’d been alone, defenceless whilst Diamond Tiara told her jokes and beat her down (metaphorically). Scootaloo was silently seething, trying to ignore her, trying to go to her happy place, trying to ignore the shame as everypony else dropped what they were doing to watch the show. She stood with her head bowed, staring down at the floor. Diamond Tiara kept going on, her jokes eliciting howls of laughter from the crowd at Scootaloo’s expense. She told a particularly stinging joke that made Scootaloo tense up, wince in fury as she fought to control herself. This would come to pass, she just had to grit her teeth and bear it.
Diamond Tiara walked over to her, “Look at me when I’m talking to you!” Scootaloo felt the filly grab at her mane and pull it backwards, forcing Scootaloo’s eyes to rise up to meet hers. Scootaloo winced, but didn’t scream. She was determined to show Diamond that she wasn’t a screecher. Diamond spat in her face; Scootaloo bit her lip, the fury rising in her. Diamond dealt her a cold blow before dealing a quite literal blow, knocking her head hard and forcing her to the floor with a cruel laugh. Whilst her vision swam and her head throbbed, Scootaloo lost her self-control. She’d had enough of being a pushover, being Diamond’s play thing to kick around and abuse however she pleased.
She shakily raised herself back to full height. Diamond was distracted boasting to the crowd. A golden opportunity. Scootaloo slowly but surely made her way towards Diamond. Scootaloo tapped Diamond on the shoulder gently. She turned, “What could you possibly want?” Without any further warning, Scootaloo clapped both her hooves over Diamonds ears before bringing her right hoof into contact with her jaw. In a fit of rage she threw herself at the stunned filly, again hurling a hoof at her head. She had her hooves up in defence, but Scootaloo hit past that, striking Diamond several times. She was kicked backwards and Diamond advanced, death plain in her eyes. Fearing for her life, Scootaloo leapt and bit down hard onto Diamond’s shoulder, drawing blood and eliciting a scream of agony. She refused to let go as Diamond slammed her hooves into the side of Scootaloo’s head, jarring her vision and making her head turn fuzzy with each hit. Eventually she let go and grabbed at Diamond’s mane, pulling hard and watching with joy as tears began to brim at the corners of the filly’s eyes.
She would happily have stayed there, pulling gradually harder until there was no mane left to pull on, leaving her nemesis in a puddle of her own self-pity, but Miss Cheerilee pulled her away before she was finished and scolded her heavily, issuing a month’s suspension followed by immediate internal suspension for the remainder of the term. Cheerilee had offered her counselling, but it wasn’t counselling she needed; it was revenge. She needed to put her mind at peace but she was kept well away from Diamond, who by now was re-embarking on her crusade against her. Her show of self-defence had achieved little, other than to turn the remainder of the school against her.
It was as though the whole school now had a vendetta against her. Even those who previously provided her with some form of safe haven were now scared of her. They shied away from her if she approached them and some even joined Diamond’s gathering army. Scootaloo retreated inside herself, not talking to anypony, not playing any games, not paying attention in lessons. She was just happy to be alone. Well, no that was a lie, she wasn’t happy to be alone, she just preferred it to a cuff around the head a stick between the legs.
Her grades began to slip. She had never been academically brilliant, not the sort of student that could pass anything with the minimum of effort, but she wasn’t bad. Her grades were good, or at least they used to be. As and Bs slipped to Cs and Ds and Fs began to spring up across various subjects. Even the letters were turning against her. Miss Cheerilee once asked her if she wanted private tutoring, but to Scootaloo that just sounded like, “You look stupid. Let me give Diamond more ammunition so she can keep shooting you down.” She refused, preferring to let her grades suffer if it meant sparing herself the torture of Diamond’s brand new charade of idiot jokes.
Home was the only place where she came even close to happy. The annoyingly white interior reminded her of a solitary confinement cell. Safe. Nopony in, nopony out. Except her. Maybe it wasn’t like a solitary cell in that respect, but it did make her feel safe. She spent her time ignoring any homework given to her. She didn’t want to think about school when she came home every afternoon. Occasionally she would simply read one of the books she’d read thrice before, or perhaps she’d play a game with herself or something like that. Just anything to take her mind off of her problems.
She tried visiting Rainbow Dash once in the hope that she could find refuge under the wing of her idol. Was Rainbow Dash free that afternoon? Did she want to play a game or go flying or something? Nah, squirt, sorry. Your idol is busy ignoring you and doing other things and is generally being too awesome to spend time with you. Go read that one book for the fifth time or play that game again or hell, I don’t know, dare I suggest you go out somewhere and spend some time amongst the other ponies of society?
She tried clinging to other ponies, trying to find shelter from the verbal rain. Sorry, sugar cube, but I don’t think you should be hanging around Apple Bloom no more; it ‘ain’t nothing personal. Oh, um… I’d love to, but… oh… I’ve just got so many animals to look after already and I don’t think I could afford it; sorry. Please, not now, I have very important work to do and if I don’t get my report to Celestia done in time then bad things will happen! Awww, sorry Scoots, but I don’t get to pick and choose, the Cake’s rent out the rooms, I just live and work here. How does a free cupcake sound instead? And so on and so forth in a similar manner until almost every pony in Ponyville had rejected her in some way. She just needed to grit her teeth and realise what was staring her in the face; no pony wanted to take her on, they didn’t want the extra responsibility.
So she continued to struggle on, taking the knocks and shielding herself from the sticks and stones that broke her bones. But the names… Oh, dear Celestia, the names. Names will never hurt me? Yea, that was rich. “Psycho!” “Look out, everypony! The Freak’s shown up!” “How’s it feel to be a loner?” “Aww, poor chicken can’t fly!” That last one she hated most of all. She couldn’t stand the nickname. Every time she heard it she wanted to slam her hoof into the first solid object that got in her way; she wanted to block her ears and pretend it wasn’t happening. But that would just prove that it was getting to her and just give them more fuel for their relentless charge over her spirits.
She cried herself to sleep every night. Or she would if she weren’t melting with fury and hate. If there was one emotion more prominent than fear and sorrow, it was anger. The things she wanted to do to Diamond defied sanity. If she could only have her way she would make her regret picking on her. Unfortunately the world didn’t work that way. She would never get the satisfaction of bringing to a close this constant war between her and the rest of the world. Or would she?
She began to feel as though there was nothing left for her to live for. She ran out of coping strategies. All the things she’d tried to keep herself calm, to stop herself boiling over. It all came down to one thing, the only cure for her frustration and anger; sadism. Or, when sadism wasn’t a possibility (and it never was), masochism. She began to hurt herself, cutting herself with the knives in the kitchen, spilling her own blood for the sake of feeling that release of frustration. She’d even gone as far as to break her own bones just so that she could feel that sense of relief, that sense that only came from the causing of pain. She imagined that whatever part of her body she was hurting was Diamond, up to the point where she had considered cutting her own fore leg off. But now it had come to this. Pointless self-harming was getting her nowhere. She just needed to do everypony a favour, and simply remove herself from the planet. She had been considering it for a while, but now it felt like the right time. She needed to do this, to spare herself from her miserable existence. She had thought long and hard about how she should do it. In the end, she’d just decided to make sure that there was a good supply of decent rope in the attic. She liked the irony in it. Whilst a normal pegasus could simply flap their wings and remedy the situation, well… she wasn’t quite so adept in that area yet. Jump forward a few minutes; she picked up the house’s telephone, sobbing softly, a crudely tied noose hanging to one side. She was sitting on one of the chairs from the kitchen, brought into the living room for her to stand on. She slowly and shakily dialled a number, listening as the telephone on the other end rang once. Twice. Thrice. Was she even going to pick up? Had she abandoned her too? She breathed a small sigh of relief when there was a soft click and she heard a familiar voice, “Hello?” “Sweetie Belle?” “Scootaloo? What do you want?” “I…” she sobbed once. “I’m sorry, Sweetie Belle.” “Sorry for what? You haven’t done anything.” It was a while before she replied. “It’s not what I’ve done. It’s what I’m about to do. You’ve remained loyal to me through everything, you’ve tried your best to help me. I’m afraid it’s just not worth the effort anymore.” “Scootaloo you’re scaring me. What exactly are you planning to do?” “Good bye, Sweetie Belle. And once again, I’m sorry.” “Scootaloo?” “I’m going now. Don’t try to save me.” “Scootaloo! Don’t you dare hang up!” “I’m sorry.” “Scootaloo!”
Click.
Scootaloo sobbed to herself softly. After about five seconds the telephone rang. It was likely Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo didn’t pick it up. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She didn’t want to hurt Sweetie more than she already had. She waited for the telephone to stop its incessant ringing before finally giving a brief sigh and clambering onto the chair. She stood upright on the top, the noose now around her neck stopping her from falling. She broke out crying again, tears openly falling from her eyes. She was truly sorry for doing this, but only for Sweetie Belle. She felt that by doing this she would be saving more ponies than she was hurting.
She spent a few moments mentally preparing herself. After she’d steadied her breathing and put her mind at rest as to why this was necessary, she took one more deep breath and prepared to kick the chair. Just before she did so, the front door was opened with a massive slam and she heard Sweetie Belle’s voice call for her, “Scootaloo!” She saw the white unicorn poke her head round the corner into the living room. Her pupils contracted as she looked at Scootaloo, standing ready to kick aside the only thing keeping her alive at this point. “Scootaloo, think about this.” “I’m sorry.” “Scootaloo! Don’t!”
Kick. Scream. Scootaloo choked, clawing at the rope around her neck as it cut off her oxygen and slowly drained the life from her body. Sweetie Belle had vanished. Scootaloo could feel herself getting weak. After a few moments, dangling from the ceiling, her vision faded to black.
***
She awoke with a gasp. She looked around her frantically, trying to discern where she was. She knew where she wasn’t; her parents house. Nor, she didn’t think, was she dead. Was she so useless that she couldn’t even kill herself properly? Was she that bad at everything? The next thing she knew was a loud squeal before she felt hooves grab hold of her tightly and press her against a warm, comfortable substance.
She was lying on a bed in the Carousel Boutique. The room was well decorated and the bed seemed quite large. As her thoughts re-collected, she recognised the warm, comfortable substance as Sweetie Belle’s chest. Sweetie Belle eventually let her go, tears in her eyes and evidence of past hysterics still plain. Scootaloo looked bewildered and somewhat confused, “How come I’m not dead?” “I… Sorry, I’m a little shocked,” the white unicorn sobbed once. “I cut you down as quickly as I could. I thought I was too late. I brought you back here. I didn’t know what else I should do.” “Why didn’t you let me die?” Scootaloo asked, rather annoyed. “How could you even consider something like that?” Sweetie Belle shouted back, anger dripping from her voice. “How could you possibly think that killing yourself would accomplish anything?” “It was supposed to kill me.” “That doesn’t help! I was so scared, Scootaloo! When you called me and said those things I knew something was wrong. When I saw you, standing there with that rope around your neck, I didn’t know what to think. When you kicked over that chair… I did the first thing that came to mind and cut you down. I thought I was too late. I thought you’d gone. I cried for an hour, Scootaloo, I cried solid for a full hour before I carried you back here and cried some more because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you like that. I can’t imagine a world without you, Scootaloo. I just can’t believe that you failed to see that.”
Scootaloo sat in silence. She felt awful. She was so full of self-loathing that she wanted to hide away and never be seen again. Sweetie Belle was right. She’d always been there to support her. She’d been there when the pain got too much to bear alone. How could she have been so blind as to have seen through her like that; how had she been so selfish? All along there had been one pony who’d truly cared for her. It wasn’t a case of how many ponies she was saving or hurting, it was how much she was hurting them. It was likely that she’d have ended up hurting Sweetie Belle so much that it wouldn’t have helped anything. Sweetie Belle had been a true friend. A true, honest to goodness loyal and caring friend; and she’d seen straight through that.
“I… I am so sorry, Sweetie Belle. So, so very sorry. I’m so selfish! I’m useless! I can’t do anything right! I looked through you, almost completely ignored you and your friendship! I don’t know how you could forgive me for that. I don’t expect you to forgive me. Just abandon me like all the others. I don’t deserve your friendship; go give it to somepony who’ll appreciate it.” “I’m not going anywhere,” Sweetie Belle clutched Scootaloo’s hoof in hers, squeezing it gently as she smiled at her, her eyes still filmed in tears. “I’m always going to be here for you, don’t ever question that. If you need anything, and I mean anything, then just come and talk to me. No matter what you do, I’ll always be here to help you.” Sweetie Belle sobbed once, wrapping Scootaloo in another tight hug.
Scootaloo sighed with relief. She hadn’t lost her. She hadn’t lost her only real friend. She returned the hug, enjoying the contact and putting her mind at rest, safe in the knowledge that there was somepony there that would always care for her. Somepony that she could trust. Somepony that…
Kiss.
Scootaloo stared blankly at Sweetie Belle, who simply stared back. Scootaloo had a heavy blush on now. Sweetie Belle gently stroked Scootaloo’s mane, “I love you. Never forget that. Whenever anypony makes you feel down, or makes you think you’re small, then just come to me and I’ll show you how important you really are. I’ll be here, and if you feel you need to talk then come and see me. I don’t care what it is, if it’s just a small problem or something more, if it’s in the middle of the night or during an important chore, I don’t care, just knock on the door and I’ll be there in a heartbeat to help you as best as I can. Even if you just want to talk, then I’m all ears.” “Thank you, Sweetie Belle. And I’m sorry. This time for what I have done. I should have realised how much you cared for me. I swear, I won’t put you through that again, no matter how bleak things seem.” “Don’t let anypony beat you down. Keep your head high and sleep well knowing that I’m here for you.” Sweetie Belle gently kissed Scootaloo on the forehead, smiling.
Scootaloo shuffled awkwardly. Sweetie Belle smiled warmly, “What’s the matter?” “Well… I don’t really want to go back to my house. I’d much rather stay here with you. I don’t want to be alone anymore. It hurts more than the name calling and the abuse and the jokes. Being alone is the worst, but if I can stay with you then I’ll always know that somepony’s there for me. Is that okay with you?” “Of course it is. You can sleep in my bed. I don’t mind sleeping in the guest bedroom until you recover.” “Thank you, Sweetie Belle. Just for being there. For showing me things aren’t that bad.” “You’re welcome, Scootaloo.”
“Sweetie Belle?” “Yea, Scoots? What do you want?” Sweetie Belle sat up in the guest bed, rubbing sleep from one of her eyes. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. One in the morning. She moaned softly. “I… I had a nightmare.” “Scootaloo, you’re sixteen years old, you don’t need to come to me every time you have a nightmare.” “Yea, but… This one was really scary.” Sweetie Belle sighed, running a hoof through her mane as Scootaloo stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking at her. “Fine. Do you want to talk about it?” Scootaloo nodded gently. “Okay, well come here and I’ll listen. Then you need to go back to bed, okay? You need sleep and quite frankly so do I.” “Sorry. I don’t want to cause any trouble.” “Trust me, Scoots, it’s no problem at all. Come here and sit down.”
Scootaloo had been staying with Sweetie Belle for about a week now. It was about a week ago when she’d… Well, when she’d tried to take her own life in an act of selfishness. Since then she’d been staying with Sweetie Belle, too scared to venture back to her parent’s house where the left overs of her terrible deed were likely still there, waiting to entice her back in, or just to break her back down again. She hadn’t been going to school anymore. Since her suicide attempt she didn’t feel she could face going back where she knew she’d likely get bullied and picked on even more, driving her to yet another attempt to end her existence. Sweetie Belle would get up before her every morning and go to school, and Scootaloo would just wait, almost alone, for her to return. She did have Rarity to talk to, but Rarity had been avoiding her like the plague after Sweetie had told her why she’d woken up one morning and Scootaloo was in Sweetie’s bed.
Scootaloo navigated her way to the bed with little difficulty, despite the pitch blackness of the room. She sat down on the bed and could make out Sweetie Belle sitting up next to her. Scootaloo said nothing. Sweetie sighed again, “Are you going to say anything?” “Give me a minute. I’m still a little freaked out.” After a few moments of deep breaths she finally began talking. “Okay, so I was in my parent’s house, right, but it was different. I don’t know how it was different, it was just… well different. Something felt off, but it was real subtle and I don’t know what it was. Anyway, I was in my room, in my bed, and I’d woken up for some reason. I decided that the best way to get back to sleep would be to get something to drink from the kitchen, so I got up, left my room and went down to the kitchen to get a drink.”
Sweetie Belle nodded and gently held Scootaloo’s hoof as she began shaking a little. There was a moment of silence, in which Sweetie said, “Are you going to continue, or have you had enough?” “No, no. I’ll continue. Okay, so I got the drink, and then I heard something. Something like a crashing noise like something being knocked over. I didn’t know what it was and I was scared that somepony had broken in, so I picked up one of the knives and slowly made my way out of the kitchen. For some reason every room in the house had disappeared except the living room, so I went there. When I looked around the corner I… I…” Scootaloo sobbed, fear constricting her vocal cords and preventing her from speaking. “Sssssh, it’s alright. I’m here. It was just a nightmare, you can stop if you wish.” “I… I saw you. You were there. But you weren’t, like, standing there or sitting there or anything, but you had a noose on and you were hanging from the ceiling, and you were just dangling there, spinning slightly, just staring at me without blinking. And then next to you I saw my mother, also hanging from the ceiling, and next to her was my father, and there was a note on the floor below you, and when I picked it up and I read it, it…” Scootaloo was openly crying, tears streaming down her face as Sweetie Belle held her tightly in a warm embrace. “It said ‘We did this because of you’ and it just kept repeating that over and over and when I put the note down you were looking down at me, and I can remember asking ‘why?’ and you just laughed and said ‘we did this because of you, Scootaloo, we did this because of what you did’. And then I screamed and you started laughing and I tried to run but I couldn’t and I was crying and then… And then I woke up.”
Sweetie Belle stroked Scootaloo’s mane gingerly as she cried into her chest, soaking her fur with her sorrow. Scootaloo sniffled, “The worst part was that you never said what it was I did. Now I’m scared that I’ve done something and you want to end your life and it’ll all be my fault and I’m such a useless, pathetic pony!” “Calm down, Scootaloo, calm down! You’re getting all worked up over nothing! There, there. You don’t need to worry. I’m not going to do that, and there’s nothing you could ever do that would drive me to even consider it. Please don’t worry about it; it’s just a nightmare. Look at me,” Scootaloo looked up into Sweetie Belle’s caring eyes as she smiled back. “I’d never do anything to hurt you. Don’t pay any attention to those nasty dreams. Just let them fade away and don’t give them a second thought.” Scootaloo sniffed once. “Thanks, Sweetie Belle. You’re the best.” “I’m only being a good friend. Now are you going to go back to bed now? You need some good sleep after such a bad nightmare.” “Well… see that’s the thing I… I’m kinda scared. I don’t want to be alone. And I left my Wonderbolt toys at home so I really have nothing to hold onto to help me go to sleep so I was wondering…” “If you could sleep in here with me?” Scootaloo looked away shyly as Sweetie Belle held her close. “Yea. I’d like that.” Sweetie sighed. “Okay, I suppose you can sleep in here for one night. I can’t have you getting dependant on me. You’re supposed to be recovering, remember?” “Yea, yea. I know. You really are the best, Sweetie.”
Sweetie Belle shuffled over to one side of the bed and Scootaloo slid herself under the covers on the other side. She squirmed around a bit trying to get comfortable. Sweetie looked at her, “Comfy?” “Yea, I guess.” “Good. Good night, Scootaloo.” Sweetie rolled over onto her side as Scootaloo curled up into a ball under the covers. “Yea. Night.” Scootaloo lay in silence, trying not to think about her nightmare. Sweetie Belle was still and silent, only breaking the silence occasionally with a long, quiet breath. The room was dark, Scootaloo observed, which was good. Scootaloo could never get to sleep if the lights were on. It just annoyed her. Still, she was awfully cold. How did Sweetie Belle sleep in here? There must have been a draught or a window open or something, because Sweetie Belle’s room was so much warmer.
Scootaloo rolled her tongue around in her mouth and bit her lip nervously. Eventually she turned her head a little, “Sweetie Belle?” “What now, Scootaloo? You can’t have had another nightmare in the space of… fifteen minutes.” “It’s not that. It’s just that… I’m cold.” “Do you want me to get a blanket?” “No, I was kinda hoping that… you know… that we could…” “Snuggle?” “Stop finishing my sentences for me.” “If I didn’t finish your sentences then you’d never finish half of them yourself.” “So um… Can we… Snuggle, then?” “Alright, if it’ll make you happy.” Scootaloo grinned as Sweetie rolled herself over and slid her fore hooves around her waist, gently squeezing her close as her hooves folded over Scootaloo’s belly. She could feel Sweetie’s body heat beginning to soak into her and she quickly felt a lot better. This was the first time in a long time she’d snuggled up to anypony, the last one being her mother when she was only a little foal.
Scootaloo could feel herself getting drowsy as Sweetie’s rhythmic breathing, combined with the joy of physical contact gently lulled her into a light doze. She was brought sharply back to her senses, however, when she felt Sweetie’s hind leg curl around her, essentially spooning her in a warm embrace that made her feel safe and secure. She heard Sweetie whisper, “I love you, Scootaloo.” Scootaloo giggled. “Sweetie, are you awake?” Sweetie didn’t respond, but simply nuzzled into Scootaloo’s shoulder, which tickled but felt really good. She wanted more, but she could feel herself drifting back into her trance of a sleep and her grip on awakeness was fading. Scootaloo didn’t think Sweetie talked in her sleep, past sleep overs had been enough to prove that, so was she awake? Or was she actually asleep and Scootaloo just hadn’t listened carefully enough in the past.
She felt something warm, wet and slightly rough rub against her neck. It ran up from her shoulder and up to the base of her skull, tickling Scootaloo even more but making her feel good in a way she’d never felt good before. She giggled, “Come on, Sweetie, I know you’re awake.” “No, no, I love you, Scootaloo.” “Yea, you said, but I know that you’re… ah… awake.” Sweetie licked her tongue up the length of Scootaloo’s neck again, this time planting gentle kisses at regular intervals along the length. Scootaloo shivered, not from cold but from pleasure, revelling in the sensations setting off fireworks in her brain with every lick and kiss and gentle nibble of teeth. Sweetie moved on from Scootaloo’s neck and wrapped her mouth around one of her ears, gently sucking on it as Scootaloo moaned softly. That felt good. Really good. Why did that feel so good?
Sweetie gently began to nibble on Scootaloo’s ear and she giggled again, “Sweetie, that feels really good! Please, keep doing that. You have no idea how great this feels!” “I love you, Scootaloo.” “I know, you’ve said that a couple times before.” “Scootaloo, I love you.” “I love what you’re doing to my ear, it’s amazing!” Scootaloo lay enjoying the contact in a way she hadn’t enjoyed anything before. Scootaloo was still trying to discern whether or not Sweetie Belle was asleep or just trying to mess with her, either way she didn’t mind. She actually preferred the latter, because then it was likely she’d be aware of what she was saying. She wanted it to be true. She wanted Sweetie to mean it. The last pony to say that to her had been her mother, just before she… well just before she was taken from her. Scootaloo liked the idea of having somepony there that loved her. That really, truly loved her. It made her feel warm inside, like she was safe. Just knowing somepony cared.
Sweetie Belle gently began to massage her hooves over Scootaloo’s stomach, rubbing slowly up and down and making her shiver in mild ecstasy. She looked over at the pony next to her, “Sweetie, this isn’t helping me fall asleep. But it does feel good.” Sweetie didn’t say anything, she gently leant over and placed an awkward kiss slightly off to one side of Scootaloo’s muzzle. She giggled, “Not, quite. My mouth is over here.” Scootaloo took hold of Sweetie’s muzzle gingerly and guided her into contact with her mouth, letting Sweetie do the rest of the work. She felt Sweetie’s tongue begin to brush against her lips, so she opened her mouth slightly to allow her access. Their tongues began to playfully wrestle with each other, turning each other and each struggling to gain an advantage.
Scootaloo was happy to share the experience. She’d never kissed anypony before, but if this was what it was like, she wanted more of it. And she wanted it all from Sweetie Belle. For a couple minutes she simply lay and enjoyed the sensation of Sweetie playing gently with her. Sweetie’s eyes slowly opened and a look of confusion came over her face. Scootaloo smiled, Sweetie’s tongue wrapped around hers. Sweetie blushed hotly and immediately broke the contact, splitting a thin strand of saliva between them. There was silence for a moment, in which Scootaloo just panted softly. Sweetie moaned and planted her hooves into her face, “Oh my gosh, Scootaloo, I’m so sorry!” “Sorry for what?” “I shouldn’t have done that! I’m sorry I was asleep. I was having a dream and I was kissing you and it was nice, but I had no idea what I was doing, I’m so sorry!” “Oh. Okay, well, don’t worry about it. It’s okay.” “Oh, I’m so embarrassed! I’m so sorry Scootaloo, I promise it won’t happen again.” Scootaloo was silent for a minute, not sure how to respond. “Okay. Uh… sure, that’s cool. I guess.”
Scootaloo curled back inside herself. She’d wanted it to be true so badly. So very badly. Why did this sort of thing always happen to her? Why was everything good immediately snatched from her before she could really, truly enjoy it? Well, that wasn’t especially true; Sweetie was at least still there for her. Still, she wanted Sweetie to truly love her. And not just for the snuggling and the kissing and the cuddling; but for the knowledge that there was somepony that was there, always. But Sweetie Belle was there, always; she was always there to help her, she didn’t need to call her marefriend for that. But she wanted to call her marefriend. She wanted to so, so badly.
***
Scootaloo woke up. Where was she? She looked around. Hmm, this looked like her bedroom. Yes, it was her bed, her Wonderbolt merchandise, her dresser, her paint scheme. There was nothing on her bedside table, but she checked anyway. Oh, a glass of water. That’s not normally there. She usually didn’t take a drink to bed. Not since she was a filly anyway. What time was it? Midnight. Why had she woken up at midnight? Hang on, the hands weren’t moving. Had her clock stopped? It looked dark enough to be midnight. She began to push herself out of bed. Maybe one of the other clocks in the house would reveal the true time.
Oh, that was odd. She was a lot shorter now. Almost as though sleep had shrunken her. Maybe she was just tired. She made her way to her bedroom door and slowly pushed it open. It was dark in the passage outside. She stepped into the hallway. Straight ahead was her parent’s bedroom. She glanced at the large wall clock at the top of the stairs. How odd. The hands on this clock had stopped too, and they were likewise stuck at midnight. Why was this happening? This was all very peculiar.
Wait, what was that noise from downstairs? Sounded like somepony crying. She went carefully down the stairs, trying not to make a sound. She reached the bottom of the stairs and a rush of wind swept through her mane. Wait, what? This wasn’t her house, this was an alleyway! She looked back at where she’d come from. Nothing but a stark brick wall. Why was she here? More importantly, how had she got here? Behind her was Ponyville, with a few lights still on and the odd pony walking past. There was a breeze in the air, and it felt like a pleasant summer’s night.
The next thing she knew was a face full of brick wall as somepony pushed past her in a hurry. She called over to him, “Hey! Get back here! What was that all about?” The pony ignored her and continued running, a look of panic on his face. Scootaloo let it slide. She wasn’t going to bother chasing him. She’d just tire herself out. “Help!” What was that? No, who was that? It came from the alleyway. It was a weak cry, choked almost. It sounded as though somepony was in trouble! She had to help. She rushed down the alley in the direction of the cry. She skidded to a halt, listening, hoping for another call. “Somepony, please help me!” There it was! Weaker this time, but more distinct, as if it had come from right next to her.
Scootaloo turned and looked down. She recoiled in surprise. At her feet was a mare, hunched over on the floor, a pool of blood collected below her. Scootaloo leant down and looked closely. The pony was clutching at her stomach, the hilt of a large knife protruding from it. Her blood was spilling out over her clasped hooves and her life was beginning to wane, “H-help me…” “It’s okay, I’m here! I’ll get an ambulance, wait here!” “Help. Somepony, anypony, help me.” “Don’t worry, you’re going to be okay, I’ll go get help.” The mare looked up, into Scootaloo’s eyes. Scootaloo didn’t react at first. She studied the face; purple eyes, like hers, soft features, a well-kept purple mane. Wait, she knew that face. It was her…
“Mother?” “Help me, please!” She was beginning to cry, tears streaming down her face. “Mother! Don’t worry, it’s alright, I’m going to get help! Don’t you worry about a thing. Except that… knife… in your stomach. But seriously though, I’m going to help you, I’ll get an ambulance or something, let me help you!” Scootaloo was beginning to panic. She was beginning to well up with tears herself. She reached down to try and grab hold of her, trying to hoist her onto her back. Something stopped her from grabbing her. It was like an invisible pony had grabbed hold of her hoof and was pulling it back. She fought it, but it was much stronger. Her mother keeled over, blood spilling out from the corner of her mouth as she took her final breath and her heart ceased beating.
Scootaloo screamed, thrashing about but to no avail as her vision faded into blackness. She felt conscious, but now she couldn’t see anything. She flailed around, then felt something beneath her hooves, something soft and fuzzy. She looked down. She was standing on a cream white carpet. She looked back. There were the stairs leading up to her room. She turned to one side. There was the living room, from which she heard the sound of somepony crying. She made her way towards the noise. She peered around the door frame, looking into the room.
She noticed immediately the black uniform worn by the police pony, a young stallion with a purple coat and blue mane. He was looking down at his hooves, his hat on the floor in front of him. He wasn’t crying though, so who was? Also, why were the police in her house? She looked around. On the sofa, another pony, another stallion. This stallion had an orange coat. He was a pegasus, like her, and he sat hunched forward with his face planted into his front hooves. He was sobbing loudly. Wait, wasn’t that her father? Yes, yes it was. What was happening? The police pony traced his hoof in a small circle, “I’m very sorry to have to break that news to you. If there’s anything we can do to help you, we will.” “Just get out.” “Pardon, sir?” “Just get out of my house! Leave, now!” Her father was shouting, pointing his hoof towards the open doorway where Scootaloo was stood, watching.
The police pony bowed his head. Replacing his hat, he rose up and walked slowly out of the door, with a quiet mutter of, “I’m very sorry for your loss.” The police pony began to fade, almost as though he weren’t real. He faded from existence just as he crossed the door frame next to her. She looked back at her father. Wait, that wasn’t her father. Where had he gone? Who was this new pony sitting where he’d just been? She walked slowly into the room, trying to catch a better glimpse of the pony. It was a mare, that much was certain. Purple mane, purple eyes… well, it could be her mother. But wait, she had an orange coat, so it couldn’t be her.
What? The Scootaloo before her looked up. It was uncanny. Two Scootaloos, staring into each other’s eyes. Scootaloo looked intently. How could she be here? The floor beneath her hooves seemed to disappear. Scootaloo fell, screaming. She was falling into blackness, a blackness that seemed to never end. She screamed, but her scream was quickly cut off by the feeling of something wrapping around her neck. She started to choke. She looked down. She was hanging from the ceiling, below her a chair lay kicked aside. She clawed at the rope around her neck, struggling to breath.
She saw Scootaloo claw at the rope around her neck, struggling to breath. She screamed. Wait, what? Who was she now? She was seeing herself die, right before her. She panicked. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed one of the knives. She made an about turn and hurtled back into the room where she saw herself hanging limp, twitching slightly. She sawed as quickly as she could, the rope splitting and her lifeless body falling to the floor. She removed the noose from her own neck, crying. She thumped the ground next to her and howled in despair. She grabbed hold of the knife and…
Woke up. She sat bolt upright, panting hard, sweat pouring from her body, her mane in a mess as she looked around. Where was she? Somepony’s bedroom, she couldn’t tell whose. She looked down at the pony next to her. Sweetie Belle was curled up, fast asleep. Scootaloo threw her face into her hooves and sobbed, shaking violently. When she’d regained control of her body and mind, she turned to the pony sound asleep next to her.
“Listen, Scoots, I’m in the same boat as you here. They pick on me just as much as you. We’re in this together, right?” Apple Bloom cast Scootaloo an inquisitive look from over the table, one eyebrow raised so high it almost vanished into her mane. “It just feels like they pick on me more. I mean, look at you, you’re perhaps the nicest filly at our school! Everypony likes you, everypony except those two. Me though? Nah, ponies don’t like a tomboy.” “That ain’t true and you know it. Plenty of ponies like you! Why, I would even go so far as to say that the only reason they don’t hang around with you so much is because they’re scared of being picked on themselves. You’re a perfectly nice filly, Scoots. I know it’s hard but we’re all in this as one. The Cutie Mark Crusaders need to stick together.”
Apple Bloom just had to keep telling her that. She had to come round at some point, surely? Scootaloo has been sulking for a very long time now, probably approaching a year, and she’d tried and failed numerous times to drag her back onto her hooves, dust her down, pat her on the back and give her a crutch to stand on, but she had been adamantly refusing to listen to her. It was as if she enjoyed being miserable. Apple Bloom had even tried to seek professional help, but that was expensive so she was forced to resort to home tactics. However, a quick visit to the doctor’s (that she’d had to literally drag Scootaloo to as she folded her legs and refused to walk) revealed worrying news. According to the doctor, who in all fairness wasn’t a psychiatrist and was only giving a layman’s opinion, Scootaloo was slipping into depression. Apple Bloom picked up several leaflets and guides like, ‘You’re getting depressed, what can you do about it?’ which she didn’t think was a very good title. The content in it wasn’t exactly useful either.
Somepony on the table next to them coughed loudly as he choked on his drink. Scootaloo sighed. She’d decided to get together with Apple Bloom and take a trip to Sugar Cube Corner, seeing as it was a Sunday, and she hated Sundays. The only thing worse than it being Sunday was spending it alone. She’d originally planned for Sweetie Belle to come too, but she already had plans with Rarity, so it was just Scoots and Apple Bloom. It was a nice day. Warm, with a pleasant breeze and a relatively relaxed attitude. But Scootaloo felt that there was going to be a storm later after she overheard something about ‘lightning clouds’ from one of the weather ponies.
“Scootaloo?” “What? Oh, sorry Apple Bloom. I zoned out. What did you say?” Scootaloo shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I was just saying that you should not pay these bullies any heed. They just want to get a reaction out of you.” “Easy for you to say. You’re pretty calm and self-controlled most of the time. So is Sweetie. You know me though, anger issues. I lose my temper a lot and jump to conclusions way too fast. It’s easy for them to burn me up, that’s why they’re always going at me. Plus, you guys have older sisters to defend you.” “You’ve got Dash, dontcha?” “Yea but I don’t get to go home every day and talk to her about my problems. She lives on a cloud and I don’t know if you noticed but,” she flapped her smaller than average wings a few times for effect. “Can’t fly! Just another thing to add to my list of problems.” “I know that, but you can always come talk to us. We’re always here.” “What good would that be? I would just being telling you things you already know.”
Apple Bloom sighed and played awkwardly with her bow. Scootaloo bowed her head, staring down at the table and admiring the… metalness of it. Apple Bloom tapped her hoof on the table, thinking. “Okay, then go tell Miss Cheerilee. She’ll help. She’s always saying how she’s always there if we want to talk to her.” “I don’t wanna talk to Miss Cheerilee. I don’t want to be called a snitch, amongst other things.” “That’s fine, I’ll just tell her.” “Oh no you won’t! They’ll know I set you up to it!” “Now you’re being paranoid. They don’t have a vendetta against you! They just wanna boil you up, make you mad. They think it’s funny. Come on, Scoots, you used to be really thick skinned. What changed?” “My parents died. That’s what changed.”
A gust of wind ruffled Scootaloo’s mane. The wind was definitely picking up. She scanned the skyline. No sign of clouds yet. Wouldn’t that just be the irony of it? The weather perfectly reflecting her mood. Apple Bloom had fallen silent. She played with the straw of her milkshake, not actually drinking any of it, just twirling it around with her hoof as she chewed her tongue in thought. Eventually she spoke up again, “You know this can’t last forever. Someday they’ll get bored or they’ll grow up and realise that what they’re doing is hurting ponies. Then they’ll be all apologetic and desperate to make amends. Just wait, Scoots. Someday it’ll happen.” “And that day can’t come fast enough! Any more and I’m gonna have a break down, I swear.” “Stay strong, Scoots! You gotta stay strong.”
Scootaloo didn’t feel very strong. Apple Bloom was right; she used to be the tougher member of the group. Nothing could get her down, and she was always ready to face the onslaught of abuse head on, ready to put herself in harm’s way to protect her friends. But she’d been changed. The death of her mother had been a real shock to the system. She had taken several days off school whilst she recovered, but was glad to be back at school and amongst her friends again. But her confidence had been shot. She was more timid, less aggressive. Ponies were curious as to why she’d been off school, even Diamond and her entourage had a few questions (but they placed them in a less cautious manner).
Scootaloo was sure that if nothing else, her late mother would be enough to put of her attackers. To at least ward them off for a while or better yet snap them out of their constant railway line of insults. Oh how wrong she’d been, and how much of a surprise it was when she realised indeed how wrong she’d been. She was initially met with incredulity. They didn’t believe her. They thought she was bluffing, making up a sob story to get them to stop messing with her. It took a while for them to realise that Scootaloo was serious. It took a few days of them constantly making snide remarks about the tragedy that they’d convinced themselves was a lie before they finally tuned into the fact that it wasn’t a joke and that it was really real.
Most of her classmates were sympathetic. They all offered their condolences and Miss Cheerilee was ready in the wings to make sure she was okay. Some of the ponies in her class who’d lost parents or siblings of their own empathised with her. But to her horror Diamond was completely un-phased by the situation. She kept up her assault, this time directing her attention more on the weakened Scootaloo.
One morning, when Scootaloo was feeling particularly down in the dumps, Diamond approached her. She swapped a few stinging insults, and Scootaloo remained silent throughout. When she’d finished, Scootaloo had looked at her, fixed her with a cold stare, and simply said, “Why do you hate me?” “I just do.” “Yea, but why? What have I done to hurt you? Why do I deserve this?” “You showed me up!” “What, that one time? That’s what this whole thing is about? One time where I stood up to you in front of everypony? That’s why you have this… death wish on me?” “You made me look like a loser on one of the most important days of my life in front of everypony! Do you know how hard that is to forgive? No. Of course you don’t, because you’ve never had that experience and you never will! I’m making sure that I get my just revenge. I’m biding my time before I can deal the final blow.” Scootaloo shrunk back as Diamond advanced. She looked ready to draw blood, but she shied away when she spotted Miss Cheerilee from across the playground. She was a coward in truth, but she was a very clever coward who was good at hiding it.
Scootaloo blinked as a spit of rain struck her face and dribbled into her left eye. She looked up. The sky had greyed over, and now the pleasant warmth was beginning to fade. The wind had died down a little and the air was moist and muggy. A long way off (it seemed), a low rumble announced the threat of incoming lightning. Apple Bloom held out a hoof, “Aww, shoot! Why would the pegasi want to ruin such a wonderful afternoon? Wanna go inside?” “Yea. I suppose.” “Cool.” Apple Bloom gulped down what was left of her milkshake and made her way to the door. She glanced back over her shoulder, “You coming Scoots?” “Yea, yea. I’m coming.”
Sugar Cube Corner had very quickly emptied out once the rain had started. Ponies wanted to get home before it got too bad, and Scootaloo didn’t blame them. Pinkie Pie was there, clearing things away and wiping down the counter of loose crumbs and icing. Apple Bloom sat herself down by the window and Scootaloo joined her, once again sitting across from her and once again assuming her now usual stance of retreated silence. Apple Bloom whistled, “I’m glad we got inside. That looks like one heck of a storm a-brewing!” “Yea.” “Okay, Scoots, this is beginning to get annoying. I think you’ve played out the whole ‘I’m upset woe is me’ thing long enough now.” “You don’t understand.” “I do so! My parents are gone too Scoots, or did you forget about that?” “Yea, but you don’t get made fun of for it.”
Apple Bloom threw her forelegs into the air in frustration. With an annoyed sigh she calmed herself down before continuing. She was treading on thin ice and she knew it, “Scoots, I’m trying to help you but you ain’t letting me. I don’t know what it is you want me to say or do, so how’s about you tell me?” “I want you to say nothing and leave me alone.” “Oh. Wow, Scoots, that’s deep. You know that I ain’t giving up on you that easy, right?” “Seriously, Apple Bloom. I appreciate the help, but you’re wasting your energy. I’m not saying I don’t value our friendship, because I do.” “I’m beginning to have doubts about that,” Apple Bloom leant back and folded her forelegs together, raising an eyebrow and quietly grinding her teeth. “I have been very, very patient with you Scoots. I’ve listened to all your stories and I’ve tried to help you as best I can, but I don’t think that you’re showing me the proper respect. If you don’t want me to hang out with you, just say.” “That’s not what I mean Apple Bloom. It’s just… Awww, I don’t know anymore!” She buried her face in her hooves.
“Hey, Scoots? Don’t be like that.” “What? Don’t be upset at my parent’s untimely demise? Don’t be bitter about the constant rampage of bullying? I don’t know what you think my life is like, but it is a damn sight far off what you’ve got.” “Scoots, please, listen to me! You need to get over it! I understand that it’s hard, I understand that well enough, but this is destroying you. And it’s driving a pitch fork between our friendship! By being miserable you’re just making ponies around you miserable, so I honestly think you need to wake up and smell the apples! I have tried, Celestia knows I’ve tried, to help you get through this. Please, Scoots. I’m asking you as a friend, if not for yourself then for me and everypony who cares for you, please move on.” Scootaloo thumped the table aggressively, averting her gaze and crossing her forelegs in a huffy sort of pose. Scootaloo was adamant; Apple Bloom didn’t understand. She may pretend like she did, but Scootaloo knew she didn’t. She never would; she’d never understand her pain.
For a good long while they sat in silence. All that could be heard was the hard hammering of rain on the window and the occasional boom of far off thunder. Pinkie had vanished by this point, trying her best to stay out of the argument in case she made it worse. Scootaloo sat in complete and utter silence. In fact she could hear the thump and thud of her own heart if she listened closely enough. Apple Bloom shook her head gently, rubbing her hooves together as she awkwardly waited for Scootaloo to say something. A few minutes passed before Apple Bloom leant forward, and in the most kind, sensitive voice she could, asked, “Scootaloo?” “You don’t understand.” “For the love of Celestia and Luna in the great heavens above, Scootaloo! Please, just try and look at this from my view. Can’t you see? You’re hurting other ponies by putting yourself through this! I’ve had sleepless nights worrying about you. Apple Jack has warned me several times that ponies that do this sort of thing will only get me down. She’s looking out for me as I’m looking out for you. I swear, Scootaloo, I don’t know how much more of this I can take!”
Scootaloo bit her lip. She wasn’t hurting anypony, was she? She wasn’t even doing anything. If ponies like Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon would just leave her alone then maybe she wouldn’t be this way! It wasn’t her fault, surely. “I never asked you to help me.” “I know you didn’t! It’s just what friends do. Friends help friends, but Scootaloo I’ve tried all that I know and nothing. You haven’t moved on at all despite my best efforts. I don’t know what to do anymore.” “I don’t want you to try and help me. You can’t fix anything. You can’t bring my parents back and you can’t stop Diamond and Silver Spoon from bullying me! There are only a few ponies who can, and they’re in no state to even be considering it. Stop wasting your time trying to fix me. I’m broken.”
Apple Bloom laughed, “Right, you know what? Fine! I’ll just leave you alone to wallow in your own self-pity! I have tried to help you in every way I know how. It’s just too much for me. If you can’t appreciate what I’m trying to do for you, and you ain’t prepared to let me help you, then fine. I won’t help you nomore. I hope that whatever it is that can fix you comes along soon, because you’re destroying yourself, you’re destroying me and you’re destroying everypony around you. When you decide to finally buck up your ideas and see what you’re doing to me, you know where I live. Until then, I’m afraid this is goodbye.” And with that, she pushed herself away from the table and prepared to brave the storm outside.
Apple Bloom ran past the window next to Scootaloo, head bowed, charging through the rain. Scootaloo was all alone in Sugar Cube Corner. What had she done? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was upset because she’d lost the two ponies closest to her and she was hurt by the constant abuse she received with every sunrise. What was wrong with being sad? Apple Bloom shouldn’t have tried to help her. She was so keen to drag her back up again that she hadn’t taken the time to realise that she wasn’t ready to be fixed yet. Why had Apple Bloom been so obsessed with trying to help her? Why couldn’t she have just let her recover on her own instead of abandoning her like this? Okay, so maybe Apple Bloom felt a little betrayed, but it was her own fault, wasn’t it? Or was it hers? Oh, bad things just wouldn’t stop happening to her!
She cried to herself. Teardrops mirrored raindrops in the glass. Booms of thunder her cries, and the lightning… the lightning was a mirror image of her troubled mind.
Scootaloo waited nervously by the wall as Sweetie closed, locked and checked the door. She snuggled into her scarf, not for warmth but as a disguise. She didn’t usually where scarves, so she hoped that at a glance nopony would question her. She wanted to try and avoid as many ponies as possible, mainly out of fear. It’d been about a week and a half since her nightmares had started. Sweetie Belle had been trying over the course of that time to help her, to soothe her when she awoke, shaking and sweating, and to ease her fears, worries and senses of guilt.
After the night she’d spent with Sweetie, after her first of many nightmares to come, she’d migrated back to Sweetie’s room. She had a few reasons, primarily because Sweetie assured her that she would always be there in case of further problems, and that she didn’t need to sleep in the same bed as her to know that. It was for her sake really. She didn’t want to be that oppressive friend who didn’t think about anypony but themselves. Also, she liked the warmth in Sweetie’s room more than the draughty cold of the guest room. Still, she missed the comfort of having Sweetie by her side.
Since that night Sweetie dominated Scootaloo’s thoughts. She was the only thing she thought about during her every waking moment, and amidst her nightmares there were a few nice dreams that made her feel warm inside when she awoke. But this came at a consequence. She was desperate to be closer to Sweetie, to relive that night (the good parts, not the scary parts) but she knew that such a thing was not likely. Sweetie had made it clear to her the following morning that what had happened was a mistake and that she wouldn’t do it again. Scootaloo had tried to play it cool. She acted as though it didn’t matter to her, that she didn’t care and she was just happy to have her as a friend. But it ate her up inside, twisting her round an axle and with every day that passed she could feel the frustration growing as she got more and more tense. She knew it wasn’t good for her, but what could she do?
Of course, her mind liked to play tricks on her and hurt her. She would have dreams about Sweetie, dreams so vivid she would wake the next morning unable to tell whether or not it had actually happened. When she next saw Sweetie she would tense up, not sure whether to bring it up or just let it die. Then there were the worst dreams. The dreams that left her as a nervous wreck amongst her (or in this case Sweetie’s) bed sheets. They would start off good, usually as one of her fantasies with Sweetie Belle. Things would be fine for a while, and they even got fairly intimate at times, but then things would come full circle and plunge her into darkness as something terrible happened. She’d only had two of those dreams, but they were equally horrible. In the first, she and Sweetie had been sharing a close midnight session, before, just as Scootaloo was beginning to relax, she pushed herself away and left Scootaloo alone, exposed, with the howling wind sounding all too similar to the cruel laughs of the ponies watching from the trees as they pointed and degraded her. The other time was less psychological and more psychopathic. It had started in a similar way, but in this instance she’d waited for Sweetie Belle to relax herself, before she lost complete control of herself. She yelled and spat, cuffing Sweetie Belle as she cowered before her, hooves over her head and tears streaming her face. The worst part about that one was that she didn’t even know why she was angry, she just knew that for some reason she felt the need to hurt Sweetie. Was this a visual representation of what she was doing to Sweetie mentally? Was her dependence and her selfishness beating Sweetie down, forcing her to comply with her every whim to save herself the torment of the mental abuse?
Such thoughts did not bear thinking about. She’d cut back on the number of things she was asking Sweetie to do for her. She no longer sought her company after her night horrors. She instead stayed alone in Sweetie’s room with the light on shaking until she’d calmed herself down enough to attempt to go back to sleep. It was killing her. She was beginning to feel like she was distancing Sweetie. Would Sweetie think that this was an attempt to drive her away? To stop her helping? There just was no middle ground anymore. One way, Scootaloo felt too oppressive, the other way she felt as though she was neglecting Sweetie Belle and her care. It was like walking a tight rope made of razor wire.
The day before, Sweetie had sat down next to Scootaloo. Scootaloo didn’t react. She just continued to stare down at the table. Sweetie rested a hoof on her shoulder, “Scootaloo, I think it’s time you tried to get back into the swing of things. You can’t lock yourself away in here forever. How about tomorrow you and I go out into town and just spend some time together? We’ll do whatever you want to do. There must be something you miss about Ponyville after all this time! And you don’t have to worry about any of those nasty ponies either, because I’ll be right next to you all the way and we’ll just steer clear of them. Sound good to you?” “I guess.” Sweetie smiled and gently squeezed on Scootaloo’s hoof. “I’m so proud of you. You’re being very brave. I know you’ve not had the easiest time recovering so far, but I think that this could really help. Just you and me spending some time together and having some fun. Why don’t you think about what you want to do? I’m up for anything, so go wild.” “Thanks Sweetie.” Scootaloo squeezed Sweetie’s hoof in return, smiling back. She was genuinely pleased that Sweetie was there, trying to help her.
Of course, for a few hours after this conversation she was beginning to have doubts. It was as if her mind was determined to find reasons why this was a bad idea. What if they did run into Diamond or one of her friends? What if they couldn’t avoid them and they started to make fun of her again? What would she say if they asked why she’d been skipping school? What if they followed her; refused to leave her alone? What if they went after Sweetie Belle? What if they hurt her too? She couldn’t stand the idea of somepony hurting Sweetie Belle. She could take a small knock or too, she felt confident about that. But anything particularly cold or stinging and she’d lose it. She didn’t want to appear weak, but she knew, deep down, that if they brought out any of their heavy artillery they’d leave her in a heap of woe and sorrow. And if they laid a hoof on Sweetie Belle then she’d collapse. She’d completely freak out; have a nervous breakdown. She just wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
She eventually got over those fears (after some serious effort) and decided to cast her mind into the pool of possibilities. What did she want to do? There was so much she’d missed, so much she needed to catch up on. She wanted to go back to Sugar Cube Corner. It had been host to some of her best memories, including the moment when she and Sweetie Belle had met Apple Bloom. But it also held some of her worst, like the moment she and Apple Bloom finally realised that their friendship just couldn’t be sustained, not with Scootaloo being the way she was. But still, she wanted something delicious and sugary to eat, and she wanted to go back. She felt confident that what she needed to do above all else was come to terms with what had happened there. She had to go there, sit down and have a good time, if only to prove to herself that she could get over everything. Her mind made up, she slept well that night. Up until the point where she was awoken by a dream about Diamond beating up Sweetie Belle.
She’d been a little apprehensive the following morning (that morning), but seeing Sweetie give her a warm smile before swinging a light jacket over herself filled her with the confidence she needed to get a scarf to hide in and step back into the outside world once again. She absentminded crossed her hooves as she waited for Sweetie Belle to tuck the house key in her jacket pocket, smile at her once again and ask, “So what do you want to do? We have all day. Rarity’s out on business and she’s not coming back until tomorrow, so we could stay out all day and all night if you want.” “Thanks Sweetie. I don’t think we’ll need to stay up all night. I only want to do one thing.” Well, that statement in itself was a lie. She wanted to go to Sugar Cube Corner, sure. She wanted to sit outside and pony watch for a while, but she also wanted to snuggle up close to Sweetie and have her stroke her mane in an affectionate way. Just one of the many fantasies she’d conjured up.
Sweetie nodded to herself, “I see. And that is?” “I want to go to Sugar Cube Corner. I want to prove to myself that I can get over my past.” “That’s a very mature thing to say Scootaloo. You’re handling this very well.” “Well, so long as I’m with you, I can’t complain. Just… make sure to steer clear of Diamond if you see her. I don’t want to have to engage with her at the moment.” “I understand that. Don’t you worry. You just focus on having a good time and you let me worry about them.” Scootaloo thanked her and together they set off down the road towards town.
Scootaloo looked all around her. She’d not been outside in a while, and it felt good to have the wind in her mane once again. It felt good to feel the smooth cobbles beneath her hooves and hear the sounds of the town after so long isolated from it. She walked slowly, savouring this experience. She felt she was getting better. Her night times were still a minefield, but at least she was beginning to feel a little better about herself, about her situation in general. She wanted today to go without a hitch to give her that boost she needed to carry her all the way.
They reached the outskirts of the town, the buildings on either side beginning to close in as the crowd of busy ponies bustled past and bartered with each other. A pony at the side of the road with a violin was busking merrily and ponies on their way past occasionally threw a bit into the case that lay before him, prompting a thanks and a smile from the busker. Scootaloo liked the music. It was smooth, soft and gentle. Just like Sweetie Belle. The tune reminded her of Sweetie.
Scootaloo noticed the crowds get even thicker, and she began to get nervous. She’d not been amongst so many ponies for a while. She kept craning her neck, attempting to spot any of Diamond’s crew members on patrol, looking for her. At one point she thought she saw her and immediately scampered off in a different direction, hiding next to a cherry stand, much to the owner’s annoyance. Sweetie had had to run after her and convince her to keep going, assuring her that it wasn’t Diamond and was just another pony with the same mane colour. Scootaloo had been sceptical at first, but Sweetie had ultimately been right. The pony was actually a young colt with a similar colour scheme to Diamond. Scootaloo felt rather foolish, but Sweetie assured her that anypony could have made that mistake and she was just a little skittish having not been out and about in so long.
The rest of their trip was pretty uneventful. Amidst mild panic attacks from Scootaloo every time she saw somepony she thought was making a beeline for her, there was the occasional police pony that walked past in their sleek black uniforms and occasionally the busker would change like a radio station. First there was the violinist, but a street on from him was a mare who was singing into a microphone in a heavenly voice that seemed to magically pull the bits out of the wallets of passing stallions, and further on still was a pony donning a trilby and strumming on an acoustic guitar, leaning on a wall and occasionally jumping to life as he hit a particularly passionate set of chords before falling back into solitude, waiting for the next opportunity to scare the daylights out of a passing foal.
Scootaloo could see the roof of Sugar Cube Corner coming into view over the heads of the ponies in front of her. As they neared, she made out the familiar structure, with its almost gingerbread appearance and buzzing atmosphere. She couldn’t see Pinkie, but she was probably inside serving ponies. She scanned the tables, looking for one that wasn’t already taken. She was always annoyed when she saw a table for four being occupied by a single lonely stallion with a newspaper and a coffee, but she wasn’t in a position to complain. Then Scootaloo made a quick about turn and walked back the way she’d come, causing Sweetie to hurriedly pull herself around and catch up with her.
“Hey, what’s the matter? What was that all about?” “They’re here. I should I have known. Why wouldn’t they be here on their day off? I’ve been really stupid. Let’s just go back to your place and do a Sudoku puzzle or something.” “Come on Scoots, we’re not going back to my place yet, not after you’ve made it this far. Besides, I hate Sudoku. If you aren’t comfortable going to Sugar Cube Corner anymore, we can just go somewhere else. Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?” Scootaloo looked back over her shoulder. There they were, sitting at a table by the door, their pastries in hoof and their drinks on table. Diamond was there with her smug face and stupid accessory item and Silver Spoon with her necklace and glasses, both talking and laughing and scanning the crowd. Scootaloo felt Diamond’s gaze brush over her and she plastered herself to the floor, slinking behind another stall as she had a mild heart attack. Sweetie came after her and grabbed hold of her hoof, “It’s okay, they didn’t see you. They’re still at the table. Come on, Scoots. Let’s get out of here. We’ll go somewhere else, somewhere more quiet where they won’t come looking for us.”
Scootaloo let Sweetie pull her up with her hoof before peering back at her nemesis. She wanted nothing more than to put Diamond’s head through the table she was sitting at, but resisted. She knew it would only end badly, and she’d likely come out minus a tooth and plus a police caution. She tightened the scarf around her neck, then loosened it slightly as it choked her. For a brief moment her vision blurred and she felt the rope around her neck once again. She began to choke and she wrapped her hooves around her neck, trying to reassure herself that there was nothing there, that she was fine. Sweetie shook Scootaloo by the shoulders and she snapped back to the present, pale as a sheet and shaking slightly, her hooves still clutching at her throat. Sweetie had a worried look on her face, and after Scootaloo had assured her that she was okay, she sighed and said, “Want to go to the park?”
And so they decided to instead venture into the realm of the park. Scootaloo had good memories here. She’d devised most of her old scooter tricks here, and it was here where she first met Sweetie Belle. She’d been alone, minding her own business like any normal pony would do, when she heard a sound. A sound like somepony was upset. Like she was hurt. She’d abandoned her scooter and went to see what the noise was, ready for a fight should she have to resort to self-defence. The noise was coming from a young, snow white filly with curly hair and a unicorn’s horn poking out from the crown of her head. She was behind a tree, her face in her hooves, laying down and crying. Scootaloo had picked her up and asked her what was wrong. Sweetie told her about Diamond and Silver Spoon, about how horrible they were and it was something they immediately connected on. Then Scootaloo noticed that the filly lacked a cutie mark, and thus their friendship was forged, as they swore to stick by each other and protect each other from harm. Since that day, she’d always stood up for Sweetie Belle when she didn’t stand up for herself; she was always there to defend her, even before Apple Bloom arrived. Now that she thought about it, this whole scenario was kind of a role reversal, only on a much larger scale.
They walked for a while along the small footpath that circumnavigated the park, admiring the scenery and making light conversation about whatever sprang to mind. Occasionally a pony would walk past, saddlebags on their backs or a young foal in tow. They would pass the odd park bench with a pony sitting to take a rest, or having a pleasant chat or simply finding a place to sit and eat away from the thoroughfare of the town. Scootaloo smiled. This was fun. She was having fun. She enjoyed coming back here, taking a casual stroll with Sweetie Belle whilst they talked about nothing of any use and watched ponies go by. It was quite therapeutic; exactly what Scootaloo needed. Screw Sugar Cube Corner, this was what she wanted to do! She didn’t need to stand up to her past to be happy, she just needed Sweetie Belle.
Soon they were by a lake front, looking out over the clear blue water which shimmered brightly in the sunlight, the green hills and field beyond making it look like the perfect painting. There was the soft sound of birds chirping in the trees surrounding the lake, and occasionally a duck or goose would appear on the water’s surface, duck under and then shoot off in another direction altogether. The breeze added the rustle of leaves and the swish of grass to the ambience and, although rather mild, made this perhaps the best place to be in all of Ponyville. At least, that was Scootaloo’s opinion. To make things better, there wasn’t a pony in sight along the entire of the lake. Actually that wasn’t quite true; there were a couple on the other side sitting together on a bench and a fisherpony a few hundred metres on, but there wasn’t a pony in sight that was headed their way or ruined the mood. If anything they helped to make it feel more authentic.
Sweetie Belle sat down on one of the park benches and gazed out over the lake, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it Scoots?” “Yea. Really something.” Scootaloo sat down next to her, resting her hooves and allowing her to fully appreciate the wonder of the scenery. She wasn’t distracted for long though. The scenery got boring very quickly and she looked around for something else to interest her. Her gaze fell on Sweetie Belle, who was still absentmindedly staring off into the distance. “See, this is nice. Are you having a good time out here?” “Yea. It’s… peaceful.” The lake was tranquil with just the occasional ripple as the soft breeze blew across its surface. It really did help to put her mind at ease. For a moment she forgot everything and just basked in the bliss of this quiet, reassuring place.
“How’s that scarf then? Cozy?” “Oh, uh, yea. Yea, it’s nice. Thanks for letting me borrow it.” “You can keep it. I never wear it anyway. I’ve got more scarves than I know what to do with, thanks to Rarity. Still, it does look quite nice.” “Do you want it back? Here, you can take it.” Scootaloo began to carefully undo the scarf before Sweetie piped up in protest. “No, I insist, you should keep it. See it as a gift if you must.” “But it is your scarf. I want you to have it. I don’t want to take any of your things. Nothing that you might actually want, anyway.” “Please, keep it.” “Okay, then we’ll share it. I won’t be happy unless you’re happy,” Scootaloo unwound the scarf and threw one end round Sweetie’s shoulders, drawing her in and forcing them to make contact. “There. Now we can both be satisfied.” Sweetie giggled softly. “Thanks, Scootaloo.”
There was a brief silence that fell between the two as both savoured the moment in all its glory. Sweetie rested her head on Scootaloo’s shoulder, causing her heart to skip. Scootaloo allowed herself to relax, resting herself. After all, if Sweetie were true to her word, ‘It won’t happen again’. Or, wouldn’t, to be precise. She sighed. Sweetie may not want it to happen again, but Scootaloo did. Whilst Sweetie continued to gently nuzzle the crook of Scootaloo’s neck, the pegasus drifted into a dream world. She called up some of her more vivid fantasies and replayed them in her head. She could still enjoy those, at any rate. Besides, it was nice to just sit here with Sweetie, sharing a close moment together with nopony else to bother them as they gazed over the breath taking scenery.
But what took Scootaloo’s breath away more was the sudden feel of Sweetie’s lips quickly glide over her cheek and then retreat back is if they’d never been there. Scootaloo stiffened up, her body tense as Sweetie blushed and giggled softly. Scootaloo said nothing, admittedly quite surprised at Sweetie’s actions, but no less thrilled. Maybe there was some hope after all. Sweetie sighed and in a quiet voice no louder than a murmur said, “I’m sorry, Scootaloo. I know I said it wouldn’t happen again but I couldn’t help myself. The scenery’s perfect, it’s nice and quiet, we’re all alone and close and I suppose you already guessed how I feel about you. I wish you felt the same way.” She sighed once more and rested her head in the crook of Scootaloo’s neck again. Scootaloo gently pushed her off her shoulder and she whined in protest. “Oh. I hope this won’t come between us. I don’t want to hurt you; understand that that was never my intention.” She glanced awkwardly off to one side. Scootaloo didn’t respond with words. Instead she gently took hold of Sweetie’s muzzle and turned her back round, gently but confidently pressing her lips onto hers in a show of affection.
For a while they remained locked in that pose, neither of them making any bold moves, but simply enjoying the sensation. Eventually Sweetie broke the contact, gently asking, “So you do feel the same way?” “Yea. I suppose so.” “Well that’s… good.” A brief pause. “Wanna kiss some more?” “Yes.” Scootaloo moved in close to initiate another kiss, but Sweetie stopped her short. “But this time, can we do it properly? It’s more fun that way.”
Scootaloo brought both her hooves up, one cradling Sweetie Belle’s neck, the other pulling on the long scarf that locked them together. She pulled Sweetie close, their muzzle gently brushing together mere inches from a full, passionate embrace. Sweetie’s breath was hot on Scootaloo’s face, and came in short, sharp bursts as the anticipation of what was to come excited her. Scootaloo was deliberately holding back, trying to fluster Sweetie as she waited, her patience quickly beginning to wear thin. After a few more moments, Scootaloo ended Sweetie’s torment and their lips once again came into contact, gently pushing against each other, neither of them prepared to make the next move.
This was happening. This was actually happening! Scootaloo felt like melting butter in the warm grip of Sweetie’s hooves and the scarf around her neck. She giggled internally, pleased and quite relieved to at last be able to share her passion with another pony. And that pony was Sweetie Belle; the pony who had not only proved her blind devotion to her, but had also saved her life. Scootaloo couldn’t think of anypony she’d rather be sharing this moment with. Nor could she imagine a more perfect place to be kindling this desire, letting her insides build up into a blaze that could have lit all of Equestria. And she wanted Sweetie to know it.
She gently began to drag her tongue over Sweetie’s lips, enticing her into opening them and promising her services in return. Both fully awake this time round, they timidly poked each other’s tongues as they fought for an advantage, which at last Scootaloo won, sliding her tongue over the top of Sweetie’s to poke the insides of her mouth. Scootaloo felt Sweetie noticeable relax and gently place her hooves around her neck, carefully pulling her inwards. She laid off her assault for a bit to give Sweetie Belle a chance to assert herself, but soon realised that she much preferred being the dominant one and went back to leading the way.
Scootaloo gave a small gasp of ecstasy as Sweetie began to playfully tug on her mane. She briefly opened her eyes to take a look around her. Sweetie had her eyes closed in the heat of her passion, hooves around Scootaloo’s neck and pulling on the back of her rather unkempt mane. Scootaloo glanced quickly to one side and noticed a stallion (about her age) standing on the path a few yards off staring at them with interest, a stupid grin plastered over his muzzle like it had been painted there by an interior decorator who’d stopped giving a shit. Scootaloo furrowed her brow and, with resentment, pulled away from Sweetie so she could call over to him, “Hey, piss off! I’m trying to have an intimate moment here!”
The stallion ducked his head as his cheeks glowed a bright red, quickly making an about turn and scurrying off down the path (likely in the direction he’d already come). Scootaloo grinned. Sweetie glanced over her shoulder, “Pervert. He didn’t… you know… take any pictures of us do you think?” “He didn’t have a camera.” “Yea, but… I don’t want him showing any pictures of us to all his friends. Oh, I can’t bear the thought!” “Nah, I reckon we’re fine. Besides, why does that bother you so much? You’re not ashamed to be seen with me, are you?” Scootaloo waited with baited breath for the response, her heart thumping at a mile a minute. What if she was ashamed? Then why would she have risked it in public? Maybe she was just feeling sorry for her. Was this just sympathy kissing? Was it all meaningless?
“No, I’m not ashamed to be seen with you. Actually I would happily make out passionately with you on the roof of the Boutique in broad daylight if you asked me to, I just don’t like the thought of this moment, our first real intimate moment, being shared amongst a bunch of horny stallions with nothing better to do.” Scootaloo let out a silent sigh (and an internal cry) of relief. So it wasn’t just sympathy. She wrapped one of her hooves around Sweetie’s shoulders, pulling her closer, the scarf tightening itself warmly around them. Sweetie rested her head on Scootaloo’s shoulder, nuzzling her softly. Scootaloo could feel her mane tickling her neck and she fought the urge to giggle childishly. Actually it was quite arousing. But now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for just basking in the love and care of another pony. It was different to the love and care her mother and father had harboured for her. Their definition of love and care was to tuck her into bed every night and help her with her homework. But with Sweetie Belle? It was warm hugs and kisses and confidence boosting compliments and a sense of passion that she’d never felt on another pony quite that way before. It was the sort of passion that said ‘I want to be with you, no matter what. No matter what happens, I want to be in your hooves’. That’s what it said.
Had she known about her love for Sweetie? Before her attempted suicide, no. Had she even known about her… sexual tendencies? Well, with few chances to experiment, no. But was she glad that she’d kindled a deep desire to be with Sweetie, to have her with her and to proudly call her marefriend? Yes. Yes, indeed she was. Before she would have stuck her tongue out and gagged at such a show of affection. Such things were way below a pony as awesome and cool as her. But she needed Sweetie Belle now, and she was willing to open up her secrets box for her because she was the closest thing that Equestria had ever come to perfection, and she would proudly announce it in front of everypony in town if she had to. Maybe, at last, she could begin to recover.
Scootaloo sat at the end of the bed, Sweetie Belle cradled in her arms as they gently played with each other’s tongues. Scootaloo was relieved to once again feel the warmth of Sweetie’s body so close to hers, to have that sense of release as they kissed each other in a show of affection. Sweetie tugged gently on Scootaloo’s mane, prompting a slight smile; she loved it when Sweetie did that. There was a tickle shooting up into her jaw as Sweetie’s tongue glided over the roof of her mouth and Scootaloo pulled Sweetie in closer, wrapping her hooves around her waist to meet in the small of her back. Sweetie rubbed Scootaloo’s neck with her hooves in a comforting and very stimulating way and Scootaloo could feel herself getting more and more excited with every passing moment.
Ever so gently, she ran her hooves down over Sweetie’s hips and onto her rear which prompted a slight squeak from the unicorn. She carefully took Scootaloo’s hooves in hers and guided them back up to the small of her back, where Scootaloo once again waited with frustration. A few seconds later she broke their kiss. There was a brief moment of silence before Sweetie glanced off to one side, embarrassed, “Sorry, Scoots. I know you want us to move forward and… experiment, but I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. Can we just keep going with the cuddling for now?” Scootaloo sighed inwardly. It was the same thing every time; she was never ready for that just yet. Scootaloo was desperate to experiment, try new things that she’d never had the opportunity to try before, but every time Sweetie shyly put her down and insisted that they should carry on as they were for the time being.
It was starting to get really frustrating. Initially, Scootaloo had tried letting Sweetie Belle lead, but it only took a few minutes for her to give up in fear that she wasn’t doing well enough. Scootaloo was fine with that, she preferred to be dominant. She’d once tried to entice Sweetie into laying down and allowing herself to relax whilst Scootaloo herself lay atop her, but she didn’t want to do that either. She’d even tried getting Sweetie to make out in different places, like in the kitchen or living room or on one occasion in Rarity’s bedroom when she wasn’t in, but Sweetie still didn’t feel comfortable. The only places she was willing to go to were her own bedroom and any room in the house with a lock on it. There were various other more kinky ideas that Scootaloo wanted to try, but never even considered mentioning them. She didn't want to frighten Sweetie, after all.
So far all they’d done was kiss and cuddle with each other, and maybe occasionally a little careful spooning when it came to lights out time, but that was it. Scootaloo couldn’t help looking a little crestfallen. Sweetie pouted and pulled Scootaloo closer into a tight embrace, “Aww, I’m sorry, Scoots. Someday. Just not now, okay? I don’t want to take things too quickly.” Too quickly? It had been a full fortnight and they’d done nothing even remotely new. It was always the same; sit down, cuddle, kiss, repeat. It was beginning to get a little repetitive. Scootaloo nodded gently. “That’s okay. I understand. Just take your time.” “Thanks, Scoots.”
They held the pose for a while until Sweetie lightly kissed her on the forehead and pushed herself off then end of the bed. Scootaloo fell backwards and stared up at the ceiling. Now she had to endure another day alone as Sweetie went to school. Sweetie had at one point tentatively asked if Scootaloo wanted to try and return to school to continue her education, but she’d outright refused to trust her on that one. School was one thing that she never wanted to return to. She didn’t need an education. She knew enough to do what she wanted to do, and that was fine by her. She didn’t need to learn any more. Besides, if there was one place that would send her crazy it would be school.
Sweetie had her coat on and her saddlebags over her back in seconds few. She lovingly kissed Scootaloo on the forehead, and whispered a quiet, “I’ll see you when I get home,” before heading for the door. She paused for a moment, poised to pull the door open. “Scoots?” “Yea?” There was a brief pause. “Love you.” Scootaloo felt her heart skip a beat. “Love you too.” Sweetie smiled and pushed open the door, loudly announcing to Rarity that she was leaving for school. The mare called back, warning her to be careful and not to talk to anypony she didn’t know. This was followed by a groan and a loud, “I know, Rarity! You’ve only told me hundreds of times!” There was a loud slam, followed by silence as the front door was closed and Sweetie left, leaving Scootaloo, essentially, alone.
Rarity was still here, but she didn’t want to talk to Rarity. Sweetie had tried to ask Rarity to be nice to Scootaloo, and so she'd quietly voiced her concerns. She was scared of saying something that may tip Scootaloo back over the edge, so she’d just avoided her and let Sweetie do the talking and comforting. Apparently it also taught her good motherly skills. Scootaloo didn’t know at what age Sweetie wanted foals (or, indeed, if she wanted any at all), but even she thought that learning motherly skills at sixteen was a little early. Maybe that was just her opinion.
Scootaloo lay on her back, arms spread wide as she stared up at the ceiling. It was a boring ceiling. It was just a single matt colour, and not even a very interesting colour at that. Well, at least it wasn’t white. Oh, why did Sweetie have to be so shy about all of this? She was always so confident when it came to everything else. Maybe not ‘brave’ but definitely ‘confident’. And cautious. Was Scootaloo doing something wrong? Maybe her father had missed out a part when he’d sat her down and talked to her about relationships? Maybe she was going too fast? Maybe the problem wasn’t Sweetie, but her? She felt more stressed out now that she was in a relationship as opposed to when she was alone. Maybe she should call it off? No, that wasn’t an option at the moment. Ah! Why did this have to be so complicated?
She thumped the bed angrily. What was she missing? She’d tried her utmost to be comforting and caring and to give her friend the proper attention. Maybe it was the ambience? Maybe it was fear of the unknown? Maybe Sweetie was worried that Rarity would find out? They’d not told Sweetie’s older sister about their relationship. Granted, Scootaloo had suggested it, but Sweetie had refused outright. Apparently Rarity had never made her view clear when it came to their kind of relationship and Sweetie was worried that Rarity wouldn’t approve. Scootaloo was a little worried too, but not so much that she wasn’t prepared to make this the best relationship ever!
Was it that Sweetie was trying not to get too attached to her? Was it so that she could call of the relationship with as little damage caused as possible? Was she having doubts? That could have been it. Well, whatever the reason, Scootaloo was determined to make this work. She was determined to prove to Sweetie that she wasn’t going to be docile. She needed to take action and make this work, whatever the cost. But how? What could she do? She didn’t have much money of her own. All the money she used to have was in her bedside drawer at her parent’s house, but there was no way she was going back there. Sweetie had left her a little money in case she ever felt confident enough to go to town on her own, but it only amounted to about twenty bits that she’d accumulated over the course of the week. Scootaloo was reluctant to spend it, but if it meant igniting a flame between the two then she would go to any length.
She picked up the money, flung a coat over her back, wrapped a scarf around her neck and left the house, pocketing the coins as she did so. Now she felt alone. Alone and exposed. There was nopony else at her side now. She was going solo. She gulped. She took her first steps along the road to town, some of the first steps she’d taken alone in a while. She was slightly reassured by the knowledge that all of her enemies would be in school so her chances of bumping into them were slim. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for Diamond or Silver Spoon to skip classes every now and again to go to Sugar Cube Corner or similar places. Usually when they tried that, though, Pinkie would pick them up and take them back to school. Weekdays at Sugar Cube Corner were often parents’ days, where mothers and fathers could get together and relax.
Scootaloo stopped and thought. In the heat of her passion she’d forgotten to make any sort of plan. She had no idea what it was she wanted to do. She had to keep things low budget, so maybe just buy her a small present? No, no that wouldn’t work. Maybe she could book her a meal somewhere? No, that would be too expensive. She knew a store that she could buy candles from, maybe that could help with the ambience? Yea, that sounded like a plan. What else though? Candles on their own wouldn’t swoon her beloved Sweetie. She needed to get some flowers, but she couldn’t afford both candles and flowers. But she didn’t need to, she thought, as a smile began to paint her muzzle and a plan started to form.
After a few minutes, she had her plan ready for launch. She would buy some candles from a store in town. Then she would go to the park and find some flowers that she could bring back. With that accomplished, she would get busy making Sweetie’s room as visually stunning as possible. She’d have to steal the lighter from the kitchen but then she could set up the candles on as many surfaces as possible. She’d make sure to lay out Sweetie’s bed in a nice, crisp way. Then, flowers on the bed, scattered around in some sort of pattern. Blinds down, lights off so the only light was from the flickering of the candle flame. Air freshener from the kitchen downstairs if needed, and then some covert operations; she had to steal some perfume from Rarity.
This was the part of her plan she was most excited about. Step one: start something to get Rarity distracted. Alternatively, hope she's busy. That part would need some work though, but she could sort that out closer to the time. Step two: sneak in and find some decent scents. Step three: don perfume and hope for the best. Step four: make sure that Rarity doesn't find out. Oh, this was going to be perfect!
Scootaloo wasn’t a genius when it came to romance, and usually she’d stick her tongue out at this sort of thing. But whilst, on the outside, she liked to portray this tomboyish ruggedness, inside she was… well she was still a tomboy, but she was a cunning one. She looked deep into herself and tried to find what it was that would make her feel special. What could Sweetie do to make her feel like the most important mare in the world? Well, exactly what she’d just planned out. The only thing her plan lacked was two tickets to a Wonderbolts show hidden under the pillow, but that was a bit out of her price range.
Her plan finally decided on, she resumed her usual walking pace, ready for a flurry of activity. She walked past the first few buildings of town. That violinist was still there, busking in exactly the same spot. The town wasn’t as full as it was on the weekends. Most ponies were either at school or at work, so those who still milled around were either on break or unemployed. Two mares walked past her, talking about their foals’ progress in school. A stallion with a cigarette in his mouth talked to another stallion behind a stall, a 'closed' sign hanging down from the front. Scootaloo looked around for her candle shop, trying to spot the sign amongst the mass of other businesses striving to get themselves noticed.
She pushed past a few ponies who got in her way as she spotted the burning candle outside the shop. The store was called ‘Fire Starter’s’ and was, funnily enough, owned by a kind young stallion called Fire Starter. Despite sounding like an arsonist, the stallion was tall, lanky and un-intimidating. He had a coat of deep crimson and his mane was a messy wash of black, orange and bright yellow. His cutie mark depicted a sparking flint and steel and his eyes were a bright ruby red. He was the sort of stallion that, despite his underwhelming physical build, would stand out in large crowds for his vibrant colour scheme and flamboyant personality.
Scootaloo pushed the door to the shop open and made her way inside, closing the door behind her. The store was really just one large room with shelves along the walls and table in the middle. It was dark inside, with no lights or windows. The room was lit purely by candle light, which cast eccentric shadows over the walls and surfaces, and making anypony who entered look impressive and mystical. This was the sort of atmosphere Scootaloo was going for, and she hoped that Fire Starter would help her to do so.
All the shelves were stacked with candles of various sizes and colours, from ordinary white to a brilliant pink. Every so often one of them would be lit and burning slowly, illuminating a small space around it and adding the vague, acrid stench of light smoke to the air. But the air was more heavily filled with the scent of cinnamon, which was being given off by a slowly burning candle on the counter. It was a delicious scent and it was part of what made Scootaloo love this place. She scanned the shelves and tables, looking for the candles that would really set the mood.
She bumped into Fire Starter crouching down and lighting another candle on the bottom shelf. He was an earth pony, and clutched in his teeth a long pistol like lighter which helped him light candles in more hard to reach areas. The stallion dropped the lighter into a pocket of his loosely fitting jacket and smiled at her, “Good morning. How can I help?” Scootaloo smiled back briefly before continuing. “I’m looking to buy some candles.” “I could’ve guessed that! Now what precisely do you need? I can set any mood in any surrounding, some come on, tell me what needs done.” “Well,” Scootaloo took a deep breath of cinnamon scented air. “I want to make my partner loosen up a bit so sheeeeee,” she held that sound for a while. “He… will be more willing to try a few new things with me. Oh wow, I’m embarrassed to talk about this to you.” “Don’t be. This sort of thing is nothing new to me. Well, candles are perfect for any romantic setting. So, first thing to know is what colour is the room? What’s the general paint scheme?” “I think the first thing to know is how much this’ll cost.” “How much do you have?” “About twenty bits.”
Fire Starter sucked air in between his teeth. Scootaloo cringed slightly, fearing that the stallion would turn her away. Fire Starter relaxed and smiled his usual smile before putting her fears to rest, “Well, it may be a little tight, but I’ll see what I can do. So, what colour’s the room?” “It’s sort of… I dunno, white and pink and purple and stuff.” “White and pink and purple and stuff? This is your room I trust? Anyway, I think that for that scheme you should be going for a purpley candle. If the room’s particularly large then I recommend some larger, thinner candles but if it’s smaller than go for some shorter, broader ones.” “I dunno, it’s fairly large,” Scootaloo absent-mindedly stroked her foreleg nervously. She felt awkward talking to Fire Starter about this, but his advice could be invaluable if it meant the difference between success and failure.
“Well, how about these?” Fire Starter pointed out a small collection of six candles, all about the same size with a decent height. Scootaloo looked them over, picking one up in her hooves and rolling it around. Fire Starter continued, “Unless you want some scented ones, which opens up a lot more doors but will cost you a little more.” “These’ll do fine I think. How much for all six?” “Well, usually I’d charge four bits each, but I could sell them to you for three bits each and still make a respectable profit. That would be a total of eighteen bits for the lot.” “Sounds good,” Scootaloo took the money out of her pocket and counted the bits out, handing them to Fire Starter who accepted them with a smile. “Would you like me to box those up for you?” “I suppose.” Scootaloo hadn’t really considered that. She’d not brought any saddlebags and hadn’t been thinking about the need to carry anything. Would she be charged extra for it?
Turns out she wouldn’t, and Fire Starter packed the six candles into a small black box with the business’ logo emblazoned on the top. Scootaloo hastened to fit the box under her (slightly under developed) wing, keeping it clamped tightly against her body. With the candles purchased, she thanked Fire Starter for his time and he in turn flashed her another charming smile. Scootaloo left the shop and was once again blinded by the glare of the sun. By comparison, it was quite dark in the shop and Scootaloo wondered how Fire Starter coped with the constant change of brightness. Maybe he just left the shop late at night and returned in early morning. That would be a depressing existence; never seeing the sun. Scootaloo felt like there was some irony in that, but ignored it and set off for the park.
***
It was an uneventful journey by all accounts. She passed some ponies, she ignored them. She was pretty much tunnel visioning on getting this plan carried out before Sweetie got back from school. It was midday, and Sweetie would finish school at half past three. She had three and a half hours to get everything perfect, but she wasn’t really feeling any pressure. She had plenty of time. She was casually strolling down the path in the park, scanning for flowers that she thought would fit. She wanted to keep with the purple theme that Fire Starter had suggested, so looked around for purple plants that she thought looked nice. She found some particularly nice smelling lavenders and another plant that looked like lavender but smelled a little different and was a little more... flowery. She didn’t know which to take, so she took both.
With all of her gathering done, all that was left to do was prepare. She planned ahead; what needed done first? Well, she needed to make Sweetie’s bed for her. That would take some time. She would have to strategically position the candles, but she could refrain from lighting them until Sweetie got home. What she was most excited about was her covert operation. She wasn’t sure how she would do it, but she was looking forward to trying. This was going to be so perfect!
She let herself back into the Boutique, eliciting a slight jingle from a bell above the door. Rarity came speeding into the room, glasses resting on the bridge of her nose and a measuring tape around her neck, “Welcome to Carousel Boutique! Latest and best fashion in Ponyville, how may I help you?” “Well I’m flattered, but there’s no need.” Scootaloo stood shyly in the doorway as Rarity looked a little disappointed. “Oh. Scootaloo, uh. Sorry, darling, must hurry. I’ve got… work to do.” The prim white unicorn immediately made herself scarce, scurrying back to her work room to continue assembling her latest outfit which consisted of… something. Scootaloo honestly had no idea. Fashion wasn’t really her thing. But that was irrelevant now, because she had to focus on preparing for Sweetie Belle’s return.
She stole the lighter from the cabinet in the kitchen (which was left unlocked for some reason) and took it and her candles and her flowers to Sweetie’s room, where she dumped them on the cabinet and set about making Sweetie’s bed. Let’s see, how did you do this again? Line those up nicely, straighten that out, iron that flat. Oh dear, she’d not done this in a while. Okay, pull the duvet down over the sides and tuck it in under the mattress like that, yes, that looked good. Oh, wait, fold the top over first, then tuck it under. Right, that was good. Sweetie would be impressed. Hopefully.
Right, now she had to spread these flowers about. Scootaloo was no florist, but she liked to think she knew what looked cool. Maybe… line those up like that? No, that looked awful. Okay, try it like that then? No, that was worse. Aw, screw it. Scootaloo gathered up all of the purple flowers and hurled them over the bed, letting them fall randomly and smiling. Yes, that looked good. A little messy perhaps, but that was her style. She ran a hoof through her mane as she brought herself to her next task. She opened the box of candles she'd bought from Fire Starter’s and took one of the purple lumps of wax out.
Rolling the candle around in her hooves, she thought over where to place it. Scootaloo pulled the blinds shut and looked the room over a few times. Oh dear, this was harder than it looked. Right, that definitely needs to go there on the bedside table. But now it looked unbalanced, so this next one should go on the other side. That looked good, on to the third one. That could go on top of the cabinet like that, to cast a more general glow. Scootaloo hoped that this would look good. Three down, three to go. She thought back to her own house, despite how much it hurt. Her mother had liked candles, but it wasn’t as much of an obsession, unlike her white fetish. Actually, that was how Scootaloo had been introduced to Fire Starter.
Now, her mother always liked to have at least one pair of candles together somewhere, usually off to one side. Scootaloo looked over at Sweetie’s desk. Two on the left, one on the right, bam! Now that looked cool! Now where to hide the box? She ultimately decided to slide it under Sweetie’s bed, out of sight.
Okay, so now the room looked nice. She glanced at the clock slowly ticking away on Sweetie’s bedside. Oh dear, she’d already wasted an hour and a half of her precious preparation time. No more time for messing about with candles, time to get her stealth on!
She crept down the corridors of the house, listening for Rarity. She expected her to be in her work room, and so she was, hard at work on her new line of fashion. The golden opportunity for Scootaloo. Ever so carefully she snuck into Rarity’s bedroom and began to search for Rarity’s perfume. She was bound to have some, a mare of her standards, but where did she keep it? Scootaloo was checking in every drawer in the desk and in every cabinet but Rarity had done a good job of keeping it hidden. Scootaloo even looked under Rarity’s bed at one point, and in her clothes drawer (which had led to some pretty astonishing things that Scootaloo wished she could un-see).
At last, hidden in a small corner of her bottom clothes drawer, Scootaloo had found a collection of small glass bottles. She wasn’t exactly the person of reference when it came to perfume, but if it smelt nice to her then surely it would smell nice to Sweetie Belle? That was the plan anyway. She tried various scents, spraying them onto her foreleg before inhaling each one. Some were more pleasant than others, but Scootaloo didn’t want anything too powerful. She didn’t want to overwhelm Sweetie, just make her go, “Oh, Scootaloo, you smell nice. Let’s aggressively make out with each other!” Or something along those lines, anyway.
She eventually decided on a spray that she felt complimented the lavenders she’d found earlier. It was quite a floral scent, but it wasn’t especially strong and was actually quite relaxing. Scootaloo sprayed her neck with the stuff (and once inadvertently sprayed herself in the face, causing her eyes to sting badly and forcing her to cough and splutter), and then hastily replaced all of the bottles and left the room, just as she heard Rarity start packing up for the day.
She was ready. She was ready to give Sweetie the pleasant surprise of her life! This had to go well. It wasn’t exactly fine dining up in Canterlot, but it was the thought that counted. She told herself. Again and again. Now began the nervous wait for Sweetie to return. Minutes slowly and painfully ticked by as Scootaloo sat on the bed, swinging her legs and thinking of nothing but how desperate she probably looked. This stuff wasn’t exactly her forte, so it probably wasn’t up to Sweetie’s standards. Maybe she’d hate it? What happened if she really, strongly hated it? Scootaloo’d have wasted good money and she’d look like a fool. She’d look like a fool in front of the only pony who still cared for her. That was the last thing she wanted.
Half an hour left to go. She still had time to pack everything away. She still had time to hide the candles, throw the flowers out the window, mess up Sweetie’s bed and have a shower before she got back, right? Would the scent come off with a shower? How long would it last? Was it too potent? Maybe she’d chosen poorly? Did it clash too much with everything else? Were the candles the wrong colour, the wrong size or the wrong shape? Should she have scraped together a few extra bits and gone for scented? What were half of these flowers on Sweetie’s bed? Where they poisonous? Oh no, what if they were? What if Sweetie was allergic to them? Oh no, oh no, this was a bad idea. This was a very bad idea! Why had she done this?
She was about to get up and begin fixing things when a bell jingle jangled merrily. It seemed distant and Scootaloo’s vision suddenly tunnelled on the door. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard that soft, sweet voice, “Rarity! I’m home! Where’s Scootaloo?” “I haven’t a clue, darling. I trust you had a good day. Oh, Sweetie, have you been using my perfume again?” “No, why?” “It’s just there’s an odd scent in my room and it smells rather suspiciously like one of my perfumes.” "Nope. Sorry. I can't help you there."
The conversation continued, but Scootaloo had zoned out. She half lay, half threw herself onto the bed, ready for Sweetie when she came in. Oh, wait, the candles! She leapt to her hooves again and in a blur of orange and purple, she had all the candles lit and burning softly. She had to admit, the room did look quite impressive in the candle light. But now wasn’t the time for that! She hurled the lighter into a drawer and again resumed her position on the bed. She tried to lay in what she hoped was an attractive manner. Hey, in for a penny in for a pound. If she was going to look stupid, she may as well do it right.
Hoofsteps. Hoofsteps headed this way. No chance to change her mind now, she just had to hope that this worked! Silence for a moment, then Sweetie called out, “Scootaloo? Hey, Scoots, where are you?” The door handle was beginning to turn. Scootaloo swallowed audibly. This was such a bad idea. A faint crack of light. Was that a white hoof? Was that a confused looking eyes peering round the door frame? Was the door now open wide enough for her to slip through? Was she now standing in the room, the door shut behind her as she gawped at the mess Scootaloo had made of a seduction attempt?
Sweetie stood there in silence. The candles, the bed, the flowers, the scent, the Scootaloo. So much purple! She was shocked. No, shocked wasn’t quite the right word; she was surprised. Had Scootaloo done all this? All by herself? There was a strange glint in Scootaloo’s eyes. Sweetie put her face close to a candle, the flickering flame making her eyes shimmer and highlighting the perfect contours of her face. The heat forced her away. She looked at the beautifully made bed, upon which was a light coating of fresh lavenders and lupines. She could pick up their heady, aromatic scent. Her eyes traced from the foot of the bed upwards. She followed Scootaloo’s tail that lay limp, along it up to her... attractive… flank, then up over her slender belly, over her torso, the length of her neck to her face which had drawn a little closer, her eyes locking her in a stare that she couldn’t break. Her mane was strewn on her head in a messy and unkempt manner, and oh what a pleasant scent was coming off her.
Sweetie clambered onto the bed next to Scootaloo, wrapping both her hooves around her marefriend’s neck, pulling her close. She pressed her muzzle into Scootaloo’s neck, sniffing deeply at the wonderful aroma that she carried. Tentatively she kissed Scootaloo on the neck, gently pressing her lips against her flesh. Scootaloo trembled. Had it worked? Was this it working? Sweetie gently poked out her tongue and began to slowly run it up the length of Scootaloo’s neck, before coming to her chin and softly pecking her on the cheek.
Scootaloo was about to make a move of her own, but before she could manage it Sweetie pushed her lips onto hers and held them there, pulling Scootaloo closer and closer until there was nothing separating their bodies. Sweetie was being a lot more aggressive than usual, but Scootaloo didn’t mind. She kind of liked it. She kind of liked to have somepony lead her and tell her what to do. Usually she resented such authority, but now she was embracing it as Sweetie began to wrap her tongue around Scootaloo’s.
With one of her hooves, Sweetie lightly applied pressure to Scootaloo’s sternum, gently trying to push her back, but keeping her lips in constant contact. Scootaloo slowly began to fall back and Sweetie took a more dominating position above Scootaloo, asserting her control over her by tugging gently on her mane and massaging one hoof over her belly. Scootaloo had never felt such a feeling of relief and euphoria. What Sweetie was doing was heavenly. Scootaloo could feel Sweetie grab more tightly onto her mane, pulling harder and slowly beginning to rest her body on top of hers, eliciting a slight squeak from both parties.
Scootaloo locked her hooves together in the small of Sweetie’s back, and Sweetie herself brought both of her hooves down, running them gently along Scootaloo’s torso and midriff until they rested on her hips, carefully moving down a little further to rub against Scootaloo’s rear. Scootaloo was ready to scream with relief. At long last Sweetie was beginning to experiment and take control, and all it took was some candles and some likely very expensive perfume.
For minutes on end they held their pose, passion and the desire to experiment bringing them closer than they had ever been before. Scootaloo felt like soft clay in Sweetie’s hooves, and she enjoyed that feeling. It felt like there was somepony there to guide her, to show her the way. Sweetie was that somepony that hadn’t given up on her. She still cared, and she still wanted Scootaloo to be happy. Scootaloo couldn’t be happier as she lay here holding Sweetie in a tight embrace, tearing up slightly as she was enveloped by a feeling she’d not known for quite some time. Love. Pure, unadulterated love. It warmed her heart and made her want to shout to the heavens. She didn’t care what anypony thought of her anymore because she had love, and that was more than enough for her.
And so she began to weep. And Sweetie pulled her closer, cradling her in those hooves that would never let her go. Now she could, after so much effort, begin to recover.
“She’s really sorry you know. For everything she did.” Sweetie nudged Scootaloo’s hoof gently, trying to attract her attention. “You know she’s been really beating herself up about it? She didn’t mean any of the stuff she did.” “I want to hear her say it herself.” Scootaloo stared down at the floor, occasionally peaking upwards through her fringe to spy on the ponies on the platform opposite. Any minute now, the train would be arriving, and two old friends made bitter towards each other would be reuniting. Scootaloo was understandably nervous. There was a lot to tell and be told, and the train was already about fifteen minutes late as it was. It was a cold day as well, and Scootaloo was snuggled deep into her scarf to shield herself from the harsh elements.
It must have been a good couple of months now since Sweetie had saved Scootaloo (she now preferred to see it as Sweetie saving her), and Scootaloo liked to think that she was on the mend. For a start, her nightmares were subsiding somewhat. They still plagued her intermittently, but they were much less severe and she’d gotten to a point where she could deal with it herself. She was no longer so scared of going outside, and she’d even been out several times in the past few weeks to run some personal errands. She’d been doing a little work around Sweetie’s house to try and earn herself a few bits. She was planning something. Something big that she was keen to keep a secret for a while.
Despite her progress, this moment had been looming over her. When Sweetie had approached her in her room and delivered the news, Scootaloo had never quite managed to settle. But now she was here, and for the first time in a very long time, she was going to have a decent conversation… with Apple Bloom. She had no idea why she was so scared. Apple Bloom had been a very good friend of hers; they’d made many good memories together. But she still struggled to understand why Apple Bloom had done what she’d done. She appreciated that it was her own depression that had driven her away, but she failed to believe that she had also driven her to malice. Apple Bloom was so kind hearted, and it didn’t seem like her at all. That was what today was all about. Apple Bloom had been in Appleloosa for the past few months to help with personnel shortages in the orchards there. Since her filly years, Apple Bloom had developed a powerful pair of hind legs, and could probably kick even harder than her big sister. She’d also grown quite a bit, and now stood quite a bit taller than Scootaloo. She was a strong young mare, and made a formidable opponent to anypony who happened to get on her bad side.
But she was still Apple Bloom, the little filly that Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had once been so close to. Well, Sweetie was still close to her, it was just Scootaloo that had drifted away.
Scootaloo was yanked back to attention when there was a loud hiss of compressed air, the brakes on the train squealing as they struggled to bring the locomotive to a stop. This was it, it was time. Except that the engine had come to a stop on the other platform. Ponies got on, ponies got off, there were a few family reunions, some business ponies hurried off before anypony could recognise them, and a few ponies in uniform boarded, bound for Manehattan, according to the destinations board. Also according to the destinations board, this was the train from Las Pegasus, and not Appleloosa, which was apparently still running late. Scootaloo groaned to herself. How long was she going to have to wait?
Sweetie seemed to sense Scootaloo’s dismay, and in an attempt to perk her up, picked up her hoof and led her inside to the station’s café, where she purchased hot drinks and grabbed a table next to the window just as a mother and foal stood up to leave, evidently just realising that it was there train that had pulled up outside. Scootaloo gazed out of the frost covered window pane, cradling the beverage in her hooves and watching as the mother and foal only just managed to make the train in time. It had been a close call though; the whistle had been blown seconds later.
Scootaloo went to sip from the surface of her drink. As she did so, she scrunched her nose up a little and winced slightly. Sweetie smiled, “Sorry. I know de-caff’s not your favourite, but it’s better for you.” “Mmm. Well, it’s hot. I suppose that’s a good thing.” Scootaloo sipped again, this time fighting the urge to contort her facial features. She stared into the blackish-brown depths, almost getting lost in the abyss before her until Sweetie once again engaged her in conversation. “How are you feeling?” “Nervous.” “Don’t be nervous. I reckon she’s a lot more anxious than you are. She’ll probably want to do most of the talking anyway. You know what she’s like.”
Scootaloo was silent for a moment afterwards. She wasn’t hugely nervous about talking to Apple Bloom about what she’d done. She expected her to do most of the talking in that area. What she was more nervous about was telling her about Sweetie. Scootaloo had never told Apple Bloom (nor Sweetie for that matter) that she was a lesbian, and not long ago Sweetie actually had a coltfriend, so Apple Bloom believed that she was straight. This was going to be a really awkward announcement. Apple Bloom came from a very traditional family, and Scootaloo didn’t know how well she’d take to the idea of two mares being more than just friends. Scootaloo didn’t honestly believe that Apple Bloom would take any particular exception to it, but she couldn’t say for sure. How would it change their social dynamic? Would Apple Bloom feel betrayed? Would she find it awkward, believing that she was just a constant third wheel?
“How do I tell her?” “How do you tell her what?” Sweetie looked up from a newspaper she’d been reading off the table next to theirs. By the looks of things, she was mentally doing the Sudoku puzzle, but Scootaloo had been made aware of how much Sweetie loathed such number related problems. “How do I tell her about us? She still doesn’t know that we’re… seeing each other. Does she even know about what happened? Does she…” “She knows about what happened. She was distraught.” “How could she know?” Scootaloo raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Had Sweetie been in touch with Apple Bloom this whole time? “I wrote to her the night after it happened. When she wrote back I could tell that she was horribly upset. She spent about three sides of paper going on about how it was all her fault and so on, and the sheets were still soggy from tears. She’s really sorry about everything that’s happened to you, Scoots, and she believes that it’s all because of her.” “It’s not all because of her. It’s all because of me.” “Well that’s not what she thinks. She thinks that she drove you to it. She thinks that this is all her fault. She’s sent me a few letters ever now and again asking how you’re doing, and I just keep telling her that you’re getting better. I haven’t told her about us being an item yet, though. That kind of… slipped my mind I guess.”
Scootaloo sniffed. How was this going to pan out? Should she start the conversation or wait for Apple Bloom? Apple Bloom probably wanted to explain herself first – get her cards laid on the table early. Scootaloo didn’t feel much like explaining herself, so maybe Apple Bloom starting would be a good way of easing her into it. What tact should she take? Despite Apple Bloom’s actions, Scootaloo didn’t want her to feel guilty. She also felt that putting herself down would only make Apple Bloom feel worse about herself. She should just state the facts and leave it at that. Apple Bloom could emotionally interpret it however she chose, but Scootaloo wouldn’t be the one to send her on a guilt trip. It wasn’t her fault, after all. From what Sweetie had told her, Apple Bloom was legitimately upset, so their reunification would probably be an emotional one. Scootaloo was determined not to let her emotions get the better of her, but if she felt the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, she didn’t know if she’d be able to prevent herself from gushing.
Sweetie squeaked excitedly (or was it nervously?) as another train pulled up outside. This time, the train was on their side of the platform. The train’s brakes hissed loudly, and a throng of passengers immediately formed around the various doors to the carriages, desperately waiting for them to open so that they could grab a seat before everypony else. Sweetie hopped up from her seat and made for the door, intent on greeting Apple Bloom and welcoming her back. On her way past, she put a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. Scootaloo looked at her, staring into her deep, glittering green eyes. A wave of calm washed over her, as always did when she looked into Sweetie’s eyes. They were almost hypnotic, and Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel a sense of clarity fill her mind. Sweetie smiled and kissed her gently before continuing on her way.
Safe and warm behind the glass barrier, Scootaloo waited. Nerves seemed to cling to every fibre of her being, pulling her every which way but one. She’d given up drinking the coffee (she wasn’t an avid coffee drinker anyway) and had settled for just staring out of the window, her hooves clasped shakily in front of her, waiting and watching the platform as ponies began to spill out onto the platform. Sweetie appeared, waiting patiently outside on of the carriages. Soon. Soon she would lay eyes on Apple Bloom for the first time in a long time. For what seemed like days she waited, watching almost as though the world were in slow motion. The line of ponies stepping out of the carriages seemed to move at a glacially slow pace, and Scootaloo silently willed for it to move faster.
The next one. No. The next one. No. Surely the next one must be her. No. Come on, come on, where is she? Now. No. Now! No. She’s got to get off that train any moment now – there can’t be that many ponies left aboard. One, two, three, four. She’s got to be the next one off. No, well then definitely the next one.
Or the next one?
The next one?
Had she not even come?
Where was she?
Was that her? Red mane, pastel yellow fur, orangey eyes, a physical build that would make Sapphire Shores blush, by gosh it was her! It was really her! Scootaloo stared at her as she emerged from the train, saddlebags over her back and a handkerchief tied about her neck. Immediately Scootaloo picked up something in her eyes that wasn’t quite right. She looked concerned. She wasn’t smiling, even when Sweetie ran up to pull her into a strait jacket of a hug, she didn’t smile. She was scanning the platform, likely looking for Scootaloo. Her eyes wandered over the café window. For a brief moment, their eyes met. In the short space of time in which they did, something seemed to snap in Scootaloo. Her own lavender eyes glazed over and she had to turn away to hide her emotion. Childish? Probably, but she still wanted to appear strong. She wanted to look confident, even if she wasn’t.
Scootaloo waited as Sweetie led Apple Bloom round to the café, opening the door to let her inside. Sweetie herself gave Apple Bloom a light pat on the back before closing the door and waiting outside. So this was just going to be Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. There would be no Sweetie Belle to act as the arbiter. They were going to have to talk to each other directly, face to face, without Sweetie there to use as a conduit.
The chair opposite Scootaloo was pulled back, and Apple Bloom fell into it, sitting in silence for a good while. Neither of them spoke. Scootaloo stared down at the table, refusing to look up lest Apple Bloom see her tears. It was perhaps the most tense and awkward silence that Scootaloo had ever endured, but nevertheless, she refused to be the one to initiate conversation. Apple Bloom had apologising to do, and only once Scootaloo had heard her out would she tell her side. There was the clearing of a throat, and then the sound of Apple Bloom talking reached Scootaloo’s ears, “So… how’ve ya been?” “Fine.” “You’re doing okay?” “Yep.” Apple Bloom tapped the table nervously with her hoof, “Okay, well, I guess I’ll just say what I got to say. I am so, so sorry for everything that I have done. What I did back then was… terrible. It wasn’t me, Scootaloo, it wasn’t who I am. I abandoned you when you needed me most, and then I gave away your secrets to those…” she spent a few moments trying to think of an adequate swear word. “A word strong enough don’t come to mind. And then they made your life difficult. I am the one that drove you to do what you did. I’ve been fighting with my conscience for so long, ever since I found out what happened. I can’t shake the feeling that I caused it all. I can understand if you hate me with every fibre of your body, and if you never want to see me again. I just had to tell you how sorry I am. Should you ever find it within you to forgive me, I would be the most grateful pony alive.”
Scootaloo let this sink in. There were some burning questions that she needed to ask and needed to hear the answers to, but putting them in a suitable order just made her head swim. The train outside pulled off with a loud blast from its whistle, and Scootaloo gazed emptily at it as it began to slowly lurch its way off the platform. Scootaloo sighed, and when she turned back to look at Apple Bloom, she let loose with the first thing that came to her mind to ask, “Why did you betray me?” “Pardon?” “Why would you tell them things that I told you in confidence?” Scootaloo said that probably a little more forcefully than she had originally intended. Talking about it was bringing back bad memories, and she could feel her blood beginning to run a little hot in her veins. Apple Bloom sensed Scootaloo’s rising anger, and immediately moved to respond to the question before things went bad. “I was hoping you’d ask me that. I’m afraid it ain’t as complex as you might like to think, though. Put simply, it was blackmail.” “Blackmail?” Scootaloo spoke in a lower voice this time, probably a little lower than usual. It was taking a lot of effort to keep herself cool. “Yes, Scootaloo, blackmail. They had something on me, Scootaloo. I ain’t never told nopony what it is, so how they found out I still don’t know. Heck, I’ve never even told you nor Sweetie ‘bout it. And before you ask, no, I won’t tell you what it is. Let’s just say I did something once which seemed like a good idea at the time and which I immediately regretted. I feel ashamed just thinking about it. Anyway, they found out, and demanded that either I start talking ‘bout you, or they start talking ‘bout me. I reasoned that ya’ll were pretty thick skinned and could probably take what they threw at ya. Honestly, I didn’t expect them to be so cruel. I thought they just wanted dirt on you. I didn’t know they were gonna start telling everypony. Since then I’ve kept my lips sealed.”
Scootaloo took a very deep breathe. She needed to keep calm about this. Her body was slowly filling with fury, but she didn’t even know what it was she was so angry about. Everything at once, maybe? Whatever it was, directionless fury had put her in bad situations before, and she didn’t intend to let her emotions best her again. Once her level head returned to her, she continued, “So you were blackmailed? I suppose I can understand that. So nothing you did was out of malice, right?” “Nope. I would never deliberately try to hurt you, Scootaloo. I want you to know that.” “I know that… now. But listen, I can see how sorry you are,” Scootaloo’s own eyes were starting to brim up again, her anger replaced by self-pity. “And I just want to say how sorry I am too.” “Scootaloo, you don’t have nothing to be sorry for.” “Yes I do. I shouldn’t have tried to push you away. I should’ve been more accepting of your help. I should have known that you would never try to hurt me on purpose. Dammit, I shouldn’t have been so selfish!” Scootaloo struck the table hard, making a pony on a nearby table jump and curse quietly.
Apple Bloom waited patiently. She waited for Scootaloo to relax her tensed muscles and to regulate her breathing. When she was back to a state where she could be reasonably talked to, Apple Bloom spoke, “Scootaloo, you had depression. Your parents had been taken from you and the world seemed to have turned on you too. I can understand why you did what you did. Mostly, anyway. Scootaloo, there’s no need for you to apologise. I am the one that caused everything, not you. I am the one who has the right to be sorry. I shouldn’t have abandoned you when you needed me most. I shouldn’t’ve listened to my big sis!” “And I should’ve listened to you. You were a good friend, and you just wanted the best for me. I’m sorry I didn’t see that.” “That’s okay, you were depressed and I should have stuck with you. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you.” “That’s okay, you were blackmailed.”
Apple Bloom chuckled and ran a hoof through her mane nervously. In the doorway of the café she could see Sweetie Belle peering in and watching them through the glass. She vanished briefly as another pony in a black trench coat with a guitar slung over his back walked in past her. Apple Bloom sighed, “Looks like we’re doomed to go round in circles.” “S’pose.” Scootaloo folded her forelegs in front of her, looking off to one side. Apple Bloom inhaled deeply. “So… are we still friends?” She waited anxiously for Scootaloo’s response. The orange coated pegasus unfolded her legs and played around with the end of her scarf for a bit. It seemed as though she wasn’t going to reply, and Apple Bloom was prepared to pick up and leave should she not get a positive answer. Scootaloo rested both front hooves on the table, as if bracing herself. She looked into Apple Bloom’s eyes. A strange mix of hope and fear seemed to swirl in their depths. Scootaloo afforded herself the slightest of smiles. “Yea, we’re still friends.”
There was no phenomenal exchange of emotion. There was no hugging or cheering or dancing on tables. There weren’t even any tears. There was just a quiet, calm understanding. At last, for both parties, closure. It was like sunshine after a hurricane, or rain after a drought. Scootaloo had made peace with her former friend/enemy. It was a strange feeling. In doing so, she felt oddly calmer. It was as though a great burden had been lifted from her, leaving her feeling free and relaxed. There was no anger, no bitterness. She felt completely at ease with herself. It was a nice feeling. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Actually, she couldn’t remember when she’d last felt like this. Her desire to scream and shout and curse seemed to have subsided. She still had to tell Apple Bloom about her and Sweetie, but right now that didn’t seem to matter.
As if on cue, Sweetie returned to them, and demanded to know how things were. The three spent a long while catching up with each other. After maybe half an hour, Scootaloo broke the news of her relationship with Sweetie. She didn’t act very tactful about it, just stated it matter of factly when the conversation was beginning to dry up. Apple Bloom was initially surprised, but quickly learnt to accept it. Scootaloo was surprised by how understanding she was. Had she really misjudged her that much? She was her friend, had been for years, she should know by now that Apple Bloom was an understanding filly. Most of the time, anyway. As time started to drag on, the group was forced to part, with Scootaloo returning to the Boutique with Sweetie, feeling mentally relieved.
What was that filly up to? All this slinking around and dodging questions and diverting attention. It was as if there was something that she didn’t want her to find out. That thought didn’t fill Sweetie with much confidence. Given Scootaloo’s track record with secrecy, this could turn out bad. Surely Scootaloo wouldn’t try something as terrible as that again; she’d promised she wouldn’t. Was Sweetie not being supportive enough? Was all of this not helping? Maybe in trying to show how much she was there for her, she was making Scootaloo feel pressured, and maybe that was beginning to get to her? Or maybe Scootaloo felt that Sweetie wasn’t giving her enough support, and she felt abandoned? Should Sweetie pay her more attention? But what if she was already feeling pressured, and Sweetie was just misreading the signs? Putting more pressure on her would only make things worse, and vice versa, if she stepped back more and Scootaloo was already feeling abandoned, Sweetie could ruin everything. Oh Celestia, what did she do?
Scootaloo was upstairs in Sweetie’s room. Sweetie didn’t know what she was doing, but by the sounds of things she’d just showered, so she was probably towelling off. Unless that was Rarity. Sweetie fidgeted a little. She couldn’t stay down here in the kitchen all afternoon; that would benefit nopony. She tapped at her glass, listening to the soft pinging it made as she did so. Perhaps the most effective tactic would just be to sit her down and talk to her. Have a good, honest, heart to heart talk with her. That way they could both lay all of their cards on the table and they could both clear the water. Sweetie would give it ten minutes, giving Scootaloo adequate time to herself, then she’d go up to her room, sit Scootaloo down on the bed, and they would both get their turn to talk. It would take maybe fifteen minutes or so, but it would really help Sweetie to know where she stood, and give her an insight into Scootaloo’s walled off mind. Why didn’t they have lessons about this in school?
Sweetie drank from the glass. She tapped it again. The ping was a lower than before. Fascinating stuff, science. All was quiet in the rooms upstairs. As Sweetie listened, she could hear the soft humming of a sewing machine in use. Her sister’s latest high profile order no doubt. Honestly, that mare never stopped working. The humming stopped. Silence resumed. There was a clatter and Sweetie’s heart stopped. Her ears pricked up, her eyes darted to the ceiling, as if hoping to see through it. Her thoughts were racing at a hundred miles per hour; what was that? Should she run, should she wait – what if she was too late? What if..?
Her sister cursed.
Sweetie exhaled loudly, letting out the biggest and most relieved breath she’d ever held. She touched a hoof to her breast, feeling her heart thump so quickly it was like one continuous thud. Scraping noises from upstairs could be heard as Rarity dragged the toppled mannequin back upright. It was okay, calm down Sweetie Belle. What if it had been..? Should she – would she have run, or waited? What if she had been too late? What if she still was? What if it was just about to happen? What if Rarity’s accident had occurred at exactly the same time, blotting out the noise? What if Scootaloo was up there right now, hoping that Sweetie would come, or maybe not? Maybe she hoped Sweetie wouldn’t come? Scootaloo could be upstairs right at this moment dying whilst Sweetie just sat here and did nothing! Did nothing but thought and waited!
What if..?
The time for waiting was over. Sweetie had to see Scootaloo. Only two minutes had passed. Scootaloo could have plenty of time to herself later, now they had to talk. Sweetie walked calmly to the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavily, with ears plastered against her skull. She wanted to run. She wanted to bolt up the stairs, fling the door open and see that everything was okay. But she didn’t. She walked, calmly and patiently. Every second she spent walking she regretted, as it was just one second she could have spent running. Running, and saving Scootaloo. What if she was too late?
Sweetie stood beside the door to her room. She couldn’t hear anything inside. Scootaloo was inside, wasn’t she? She couldn’t be anywhere else. Sweetie grabbed the handle. Be calm now, Sweetie, you don’t want to startle her, be calm. She twisted the handle. Oh, the action felt so slow and painful. Still no noise. Be calm. Sweetie pushed the door inwards. Every second felt an hour, could this door not open quicker? Why wasn’t she darting in at lightning speed? It must have been days by now. She must have been spending years just opening this door. Inch by inch, every moment filled with uncertainty. Open faster, open faster!
The door opened. Sweetie peered in. She looked around. No chairs, no ropes, no telephones… just Scootaloo. Just Scootaloo, standing with her head out of the window, letting the gentle breeze blow through her mane, the afternoon chill filling the room with cool air. There was a rustle of leaves outside. Scootaloo’s eyes were closed, not tightly, but in a state of bliss. Her muscles were relaxed, her wings were neatly folded on her back. A very slight smile played across her muzzle, as the wind flitted through the strands of her mane, and her left ear twitched. Behind her, in a heap on the floor, was a damp towel, discarded when its services weren’t required. It wasn’t silent. It was pleasant. Calm. The overcast sky afforded a little natural light. There were no lamps or candles on in the room. Scootaloo looked at peace with herself.
Nothing to worry about.
Sweetie slid carefully into the room. She quietly shut the door behind her. There was a click. Scootaloo slowly opened her eyes and blinked three or four times. She looked over at Sweetie, stood somewhat awkwardly at the door. She smiled. Sweetie smiled back, if a little nervously. The only noise was the relaxing noise of the wind blowing in through the window. Nopony spoke.
“Sorry I disturbed you.” “Don’t be.” “You looked so peaceful.” “Yea, I feel kinda peaceful.” “You’re all okay then?” “Yea. I’m fine. Come here and put your head out the window.” Scootaloo beckoned for Sweetie to come closer. She stood back from the window to afford Sweetie some space. The unicorn made her way across the room. Her fur bristled slightly from the chill. As she drew level with Scootaloo, she put her head out the window, and closed her eyes. The feeling of the cold air in her lungs as she inhaled, the sensation of the wind through her mane and on her face. Again, the rustling of fallen leaves. The whole world seemed to have hushed itself just for her, just to give her this moment of serenity. Her mind cleared of worry. All she could do was relax in the presence of nature.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” “Mmm.” “I used to do this every morning. Every single morning. It was kind of my own, precious moment alone. I felt like nopony could hurt me. I felt relaxed and calm. There’s something very satisfying about it.” “Mmm.” “You can bring your head back in now. You can say what you wanted to say.”
Sweetie rather reluctantly drew her head back in. Such a sensation of clarity in her mind she had not felt in a long time. She savoured the feeling. After not long, her mind started to feel… heavy. It started to feel weighed down by thoughts. Here or there, little worries or anxieties put pressure on her brain. She felt saddened by the passing of the pleasant experience, but she was glad Scootaloo had shown it to her. She looked at her marefriend. Scootaloo really was beautiful. Diamond Tiara could boast about all of the expensive make up and clothes her father bought for her, but Scootaloo had something that she didn’t – natural, untainted beauty. There was something about the glitter in her eyes, the particular fuzziness of her fur, the ruggedness of her features, the length of her neck and the lithe, muscular build of her body that made her something really special. In fact, Sweetie would liken her to a swan. She was her delicate orange swan.
“Sweetie?” “Wha-?” Sweetie had to shake her head slightly to focus herself. “What was it you wanted to say?” “Oh. Yea, uhh, I just wanted to talk.” “Okay, well, talk. I’m all ears.” Scootaloo parked herself down on the floor, in an attentive posture with eyes fixed on Sweetie. Why did Sweetie suddenly feel like she was being interrogated? “Well, I suppose I’m just a little… concerned. You’ve been doing a lot of sneaking around, and every time I approach you about it you dodge the question. I just want to know what’s going on. You’re not… you’re not planning to… are you?” “No. Of course I’m not, I wouldn’t do that to you again.” “Okay, well that was my main concern.” Sweetie felt like her mind had been relieved somewhat. At least that was out of the way. Sweetie waited patiently, expecting Scootaloo to talk. No? Was she not going to say something herself? Sweetie had other questions, but they were just trifling matters and she was sure that Scootaloo had some serious questions to ask herself. The young mare sat in silence, eyes still locked firmly on Sweetie. Was she expecting her to keep talking?
A slight glimmer began to collect at the corners of Scootaloo’s eyes. It wasn’t much, barely noticeable, but Sweetie noticed it. Scootaloo kept smiling, waiting patiently, with moisture beginning to collect in her eyes. Sweetie gazed back at her, her heart filled with the desire to immediately rush to her and make sure everything was okay, “Scootaloo? Are you crying?” “No. Sometimes the air can dry out my eyes. That’s all.” Despite the certainty with which Scootaloo said those words, Sweetie felt like it was difficult for her to keep a level tone. “Scootaloo, what’s wrong? You can talk to me. Don’t hide things from me Scootaloo, that’s how things start to get bad.” “Sweetie, I’m fine.” “Scootaloo, talk to me.” “I’m fine. Really, there’s nothing wrong. I am totally fine.”
Despite Scootaloo’s strong words and admirable job of holding Sweetie’s gaze, as the first of the tears began to trickle down one side of her face she lost it. She started bawling with seemingly no reason or explanation, and it took Sweetie slightly aback. In seconds few she was at Scootaloo’s side, her hooves wrapped around the filly as she shook violently, her eyes clamped tightly shut and with tears freely flowing down her face. Sweetie had known something wasn’t quite right. Scootaloo could try her best to hide it, but Sweetie could always tell when something was bothering her. She kept her silence for a while, letting Scootaloo cry the worst of it out.
Sweetie waited for Scootaloo to calm down somewhat before she said anything, “What’s wrong Scootaloo? Please tell me; I hate seeing you sad.” “It-it-it’s just,” Scootaloo struggled to string her words together for longer than a second before being wracked by another sob. Sweetie stroked her mane, trying to calm her down even by a modicum. Scootaloo bit her lip and tried to stave off her emotions for a minute so she could talk without being interrupted, “It’s just that… I’m-I’m not in a g-good place at the moment.” “What do you mean, Scoots? Are you not feeling well? Are you missing your own home?” “I-I feel so-so shit!” Scootaloo planted her face into her hooves and entered another fit of violent crying. Sweetie waited patiently for her to collect herself. She held her tongue, certain that Scootaloo would carry on regardless of her input, “I’m so st-stressed out! I can’t go anywhere without worrying that-that Diamond is gonna come and hurt me! I can’t even h-hide inside my own head anymore because I-I hate myself! Everypony hates me, even me! I am nothing! I have no future, and I-I feel like I’m just holding you back and stopping you from suc-succeeding! I’m holding you back and it’s all because I’m too selfish to even take care of myself! Why am I so useless?”
Sweetie let Scootaloo cry. She needed this emotional outlet. She’d been holding all of this in for a while now and Sweetie felt like letting it all out would do her good. Scootaloo cried and cursed and thumped at the ground and ranted for what must have been a good half an hour. When she’d finished, she just sniffled and rubbed at her eyes every now and then. Sweetie hushed her gently, stroking her mane and squeezing one of her hooves gingerly. She pulled Scootaloo closer, the traumatised filly resting her head in the crook of Sweetie’s neck, “What’s brought all this on? Why are you saying these things about yourself?” “Because it’s all true. I am useless and selfish and stupid and incapable of looking after myself.” “That’s not what I mean. You were so happy only a few days ago. You and Apple Bloom had made friends again and you felt on top of the world, like you could accomplish anything. Why do you suddenly feel like this? Has something happened that I don’t know about?” “No. Nothing’s happened. I dunno, I just suddenly… I dunno. I had another nightmare last night and that kinda brought me down a bit. I mean, I was doing so well! I hadn’t had a nightmare in weeks and I thought I was recovering and then I woke up at three in the morning with the sound of you screaming in my ears, and I’ve just not been right all morning. Why am I having nightmares again, Sweetie? Why am I not recovering? I don’t want to be like this! I don’t want to be plagued by my past! I don’t want to be sick, but I am. Why am I sick? I’m not right, Sweetie! There’s something wrong with me. I’m not right in the head. I’m broken, Sweetie. Why am I broken? Why can’t I be fixed? Why can’t I be normal like you? Why did I have to be the one that got the broken mind?”
Sweetie hushed Scootaloo again. She couldn’t let her get worked up into a tizzy or things would get bad again. She gave Scootaloo a slight shake to try and comfort her somewhat, “You’re not broken Scootaloo. You’ve just been through some troubling things, and anypony, no matter how strong they are, having been through what you’ve been through would be just the same. You’ve been dealt more than you fair share of misfortune, and I know it’s shit. Sometimes you wonder why Diamond can’t be taken down a notch, but you’ve been so brave to even make it this far. You aren’t useless, you’re not selfish, and you certainly aren’t stupid! Scootaloo, you are the bravest filly I have ever met. You are kind, you are smart, you are pretty, and you are unique. And you are tough as nails, Scoots! You may not feel like it, but I’m certain that if Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon were in your position, then they wouldn’t even be doing half as well as you are. Don’t put yourself down, Scoots. You are going to get through this, and I’m going to help you, but you need to believe in yourself. It will take time, and sometimes you may just feel like giving up, but I know you, Scootaloo, and I know that you have the courage and the drive to see this through. You are making progress. Just look at where you are now compared to where you were! Just remember that I’m going to be here at your side the whole way, and I’ll always be here for you, no matter what, because I love you Scootaloo, and I can see the qualities in you that even you don’t see yourself. Now come on,” Sweetie put a hoof under Scootaloo’s muzzle, tilting her head up to look her in the eyes. “You are brave. Say it after me, you are brave.” “I am brave,” murmured Scootaloo quietly, shying away from Sweetie’s gaze. “Say it like you mean it, and look me in the eye. Come on, say it with pride! You are brave!” “I am brave.” “Come on, really mean it!” “I am brave! I can do this!” “Yea, that’s more like it! You are brave, you are unique, you are smart!” “I am brave! I am unique! I am smart! Woo!” Scootaloo punched triumphantly at the air, sniffling slightly as she did so.
They both sat in silence for a while. Scootaloo sniffled occasionally, and Sweetie gave her time to really absorb what she’d just said. When she’d given her adequate time, she leant in close and whispered right up against Scootaloo’s ear, “You are beautiful.” “I am… I’m… I’m beautiful.” Scootaloo buried her muzzle in her hooves, a hot blush burning at her cheeks. Sweetie got the impression that that was the first time Scootaloo had ever said that. Scootaloo giggled slightly, “I am embarrassed.” “Don’t be, because it’s true. Scootaloo, you’re the most beautiful filly in all of Ponyville.” “No I’m not, stop saying that. You’re making me blush!” Scootaloo looked away slightly, her cheeks burning bright red. Sweetie smiled. Scootaloo had to be told, and Sweetie was certain that deep down she wanted to be told. “Scootaloo, you could put Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon to shame. Combined! You are so naturally beautiful that you make other fillies jealous. Heck, you make me jealous! You look amazing without even trying. You’ve got a flawless figure and a brilliant mane and dazzling eyes, and you don’t even need all of that artificial make up and fancy clothes to make yourself look stunning. You are a swan, Scootaloo, a beautiful swan amongst all of the ugly ducklings.”
Scootaloo’s face was so hot you could have cooked on it. Her orange fur was now an impressive scarlet around her cheeks and at the tips of her ears. She looked Sweetie in the eyes, “That is the kindest thing anypony has ever said to me.” “And I mean every word of it.” Sweetie brought her face closer to Scootaloo’s, taking the opportunity to stare intently into her eyes. Scootaloo stared back, equally transfixed by Sweetie’s emerald gaze. In that moment, more emotion was shared between the two than could have been expressed in a thousand words. Scootaloo found comfort in those eyes, and she could feel the fear and paranoia quickly work its way out of her mind. Those eyes were just so… disarming. Scootaloo was only vaguely aware of Sweetie’s lips pressing against her own, but nevertheless still felt a slight rush through her veins and a slight tingle down her spine that she would never get used to. The pleasant feelings in Scootaloo’s body were something she’d never numb to, so long as it was with Sweetie Belle.
The two rose. Neither spoke nor moved for a few moments. Scootaloo quickly collapsed onto the bed, and Sweetie assumed position next to her. They both stared up at the ceiling in silence. Scootaloo sighed, “Thanks, Sweetie.” “What for?” “For letting me talk.” “Well, you needed to let it out. But don’t bottle that sort of stuff up anymore, okay? If anything like that happens again, or you start to doubt yourself or anything like that, just come and talk to me. Just pull me aside for a few minutes and I’ll listen. Don’t worry about what it is I’m doing or anything, because you are my number one priority, okay?” Sweetie playfully rubbed Scootaloo’s belly, inspiring a brief snort of laughter. “And don’t worry about what I’ll think. I’m not going to judge you, no matter how silly or strange or random your worry is. Please, don’t feel like you can’t talk to me. If there is anything, and I mean anything, that’s worrying you or bothering you, please just talk to me. It’s so much easier than trying to deal with it alone.” “Thanks Sweetie. I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what?” “For not trusting you. I was worried that, if I talked to you, you’d find it stupid of me to be concerned about nothing. I shouldn’t have tried to hide it. I should have known it would only get worse.” “Listen, Scoots, stop apologising. Let’s move on, the two of us. From now on, we’re not going to hide things from each other, okay? From now on, we’re not going to try and do this alone. We are solid, you and I, and that means we listen to each other, we respect each other, and we don’t keep secrets. Okay?” “Okay.”
They were silent for a few minutes more. Not an uncomfortable silence. It was a pleasant silence. They were both just taking the time to absorb everything that had just happened. Sweetie felt a lot better now that an understanding had been met. Hopefully Scootaloo wouldn’t be afraid to talk to her anymore. Scootaloo giggled (an unusual sound for her to make), and turned to look at Sweetie, “Did you really mean what you said about me being hot and all?” “Of course.” “Cool. I was just checking.” Scootaloo lapsed into silence once more, trailing a hoof absentmindedly in circles on the bedsheet between the two of them. Sweetie smiled. Scootaloo could be so transparent sometimes. She gingerly took hold of Scootaloo’s hoof and shuffled a little closer, their muzzles once again only centimetres from contact. Sweetie could feel Scootaloo’s breath on her face; she could sense the anticipation and the longing in the rapid, shallow panting. Sweetie prepared to close the distance.
“Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard crying?”
Both of the fillies shot to complete opposite sides of the bed and blushed hotly. Sweetie had to wait for a second or two for her head to de-fuzz before she could respond, “Uh, yea. Yea, everything’s fine. We’re good.” Sweetie peered over her shoulder at Scootaloo, who was trying desperately to keep her wings pinned to her sides. It was kind of cute, actually. Rarity hummed to herself. “Hmm. Well it’s good to see you two aren’t fighting, which was my concern. Sweetie, do you need to talk about anything? School related, or anything like that?” “No, I’m fine.” “You’re keeping on top of your homework, aren’t you?” “Yep. Everything’s good.” “You’re not worried about that incident in school are you?” “Don’t you have some really important order you’re supposed to be working on? Why don’t you go finish that? Really, I think that’s something you should do.” Sweetie desperately tried to usher her sister out of the room using as little force as possible. “Okay, I was just checking you were alright. Is Scootaloo okay?” “Yea, Scootaloo’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Please do work now. Work is important.” Sweetie refrained from openly pushing her sister out of the room and instead tried to reinforce the whole ‘work is important’ thing by standing as distressingly close to her as she physically could until she got the message and left, before shutting the door as forcefully as possible whilst not sounding rude. Sweetie braced herself and turned back to Scootaloo.
Who, surprise surprise, was failing badly to conceal a smirk. Sweetie’s ears began to get a little hot, “Don’t even say it.” “Incident in school?” “Shut up.” “Is that what I think it is?” Scootaloo beamed innocently whilst Sweetie’s face began to burn. “The particulars of such an incident are not open to discussion. They are not your concern and you should stop asking about them. In fact, why not just forget that my stupid sister ever mentioned anything pertaining to incidents. Okay?” “Such sophisticated vocabulary! It must be pretty damn secret then. If I guess right, will you tell me?” Sweetie cast Scootaloo a malicious smirk of her own, “Don’t pretend Rarity didn’t notice your wings. And yes, she knowns what it means.” Scootaloo frowned and folded her forelegs, subconsciously shuffling her wings in embarrassment. “Okay fine. I’ll stop asking.” “Thank you.”
“By the way, one of us still has to tell my sister about our relationship.”
“Sis? Can I have a word with you?” Sweetie peered round the door to her bigger sister’s work room, feeling a little more terrified than she would have liked. She waited patiently for a response. “Just a moment, Sweetie Belle.” Sweetie took that as an invitation to properly enter the room, and she took care to quietly close the door behind her. Her sister was, as she had expected, hunched over a sewing machine ferreting away at seams and stitching. The room was surrounded with mannequins and fabric of all shades, and torn up shreds of paper were prominent on the floor. Sweetie tapped her hoof anxiously, eager to get this over and done with. The anticipation had kept her up the night before.
After what felt like a season had passed, Rarity stopped working away at the material and turned to face her sister, who had a peculiar look etched across her muzzle. Rarity frowned, “Sweetie, what’s the matter? Is something wrong? You look nervous.” “I-it’s nothing really. I just… need to talk.” “Of course, Sweetie, come over here. Are you having any big filly worries?” “Sorta. I dunno, it’s hard to explain. I just need you to listen to me for a while, okay? Do you promise me you won’t try and interrupt me until I’m done?” “I… I suppose. Sweetie this is very odd behaviour for you, are you sure it’s nothing serious? Is it school related? Have you spoken to Cheerilee about it?” “Rarity, please!” Sweetie snapped at her sister, immediately feeling a little guilty for it. She needed Rarity to be quiet, just until she could explain what she needed to explain.
She had been putting it off for a few days. She’d spoken to Scootaloo about it and they both agreed that she would be best for the job. Whilst she knew it was silly of her to be worried by such things, it didn’t stop her from trying to delay the inevitable for as long as she could. But it had gotten to the point where she couldn’t stall any longer, and she accepted that she’d just have to bite the bullet. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, indeed, she didn’t know whether she even could do it, but she knew she had to try. For both her sake and Scootaloo’s, she had to at least try. Her throat suddenly felt very dry, and she inadvertently swallowed, not knowing what was coming.
She took a deep breath.
“So… Basically, I’m in a relationship with somepony. We both really like each other and I’m… I dunno, I feel happy with them. It’s just that…” “Sweetie, that’s great news! Why were you so worried about telling me? Who is he? Is he nice?” “Rarity! Let me finish! So, I’m in a relationship with somepony, we both like each other, and I feel happy with them. But… I… It’s not exactly… Oh Celestia, give me a minute.” Sweetie chewed her tongue nervously. Why was this so difficult? Just say it and be done with it, no big deal. Rarity would be totally cool with it and things could carry on as they were, just say what needed to be said. State the facts, don’t beat about the bush. But… But it was so scary. ‘What ifs’ floated around Sweetie’s brain and she found herself rendered completely silent, unable to speak and unwilling to force herself further.
“Sweetie? Has this pony done something to you? Something you didn’t want?” “No, it’s not that.” “Has he hurt you?” “No, it’s not that either.” “Sweetie are you…has he… you’re not… Sweetie please tell me you aren’t…” “What? No! No, absolutely not! That’s not what it is at all! It’s nothing like that. I don’t know, it’s just something silly. I shouldn’t be having this much trouble telling you but… I’m scared of what you’ll say. What you’ll think of me.”
Sweetie began to sniffle. She could feel something pricking at the corners of her eyes and she tried to fight back the wall of emotions inside her. Was this even right? Was it even okay? “Sweetie, darling, come here. What’s with the tears? There isn’t anything you could tell me that would make me stop loving you. Whatever it is I’ll always be there for you. I don’t want you to feel worried about telling me things. Now come on, what’s got you so upset? If you tell me then I can help you get through it.” Sweetie sobbed lightly into Rarity’s chest. Sure, it was all well and good saying that now. What about when she told her, what then? There was no guarantee that Rarity would stay true to her word, and Sweetie was scared that it was going to come down to a choice between her big sister, whom she loved dearly, and her marefriend, whom she also loved dearly. She sobbed a little longer, before desperately trying to regain her composure. Now or never, Sweetie Belle, just say it and this whole mess can be over.
“Well… It’s not a colt. I’m not going out with a colt. It’s… It’s another mare. I… I think I might be gay. I don’t know! I don’t know if I am! I’m so confused! I know it’s not right for a mare to like another mare in that way but I can’t help how I feel! I know deep down in my heart that I love her like I would any colt but at the same time I don’t know why I feel that way. I’ve never been attracted to mares before it’s just now. Is it a phase or something? Do all mares go through this? I don’t know! Please don’t hate me Rarity, I know it’s wrong, just don’t hate me!” “Sweetie Belle! Sweetie Belle, calm down! You’re getting worked up into hysterics! My darling little sister, I don’t care if you want to be in to mares. Sssh, listen it’s okay. Sweetie, please.”
Rarity sat with her little sister clutched tightly in her fore legs, squeezing her gently and desperately trying to calm her down. Eventually her sobs died down to only the occasional choke, yet tears continued to stream down her face and her bottom lip quivered maniacally. She gently stroked her sister’s mane, hushing and cooing all the while. Rarity eventually looked down at her sister and asked in a tender voice, “Sweetie, darling, why were you so scared about telling me? I don’t mind if you find mares more attractive than colts. I just want you to be happy. Does this marefriend of yours make you feel happy?” Sweetie didn’t answer immediately, but eventually she nodded her head. “Then that’s all that’s important. Honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. So long as he or she makes you happy and you legitimately love and care for each other, that’s all I can ask. There, there, look you’ve got yourself all worked up into a tizzy over it. Has this been worrying you for long?” “I dunno. A week. Maybe two.” “Oh, Sweetie, I wish you hadn’t been so scared about it. You know that I’ll always love you, you’re my precious little sister! So long as they treat you right and you both respect each other, I don’t care if you want to go out with a mare or a stallion. Okay?”
The two shared a moment of silence with each other, wrapped in a tight embrace of the sort they hadn’t shared since Sweetie was a really little filly. Rarity sighed inwardly. At least Sweetie didn’t have to worry about that anymore. She’d known that the young mare problems would set in eventually, and she’d made sure she knew how to handle it. After a while, the two let each other go, but still remained close, Rarity ready in the wings in case her services were required again. Rather quietly, she eventually asked, “So who is she? Is she somepony from school? Or did you meet her around town?” “Somepony from school. You know her.” “I do? How did you get together? Was it romantic?” Sweetie couldn’t help chuckle slightly, “Not really. We just started spending a lot more time together than usual and… I dunno, one thing led to another I suppose.” “I see. So… have you kissed yet?” “Rarity!” “Sorry, was that a bit too sudden? Are you still just getting past the holding hooves phase?” “No, we’ve… We’ve kissed and stuff. It’s no big deal really.” “Aww, that’s so sweet. Have you been on any dates yet?” “Not really. It’s been kinda secret until now. She… she doesn’t really like going out much. Just personal things, you know.” “Of course, my little Sweetie, I understand. I think you make a cute couple.” “Wait, how can you..?” “I can take hints, darling. Your big sis isn’t quite as dim as she looks.”
Sweetie sighed and inwardly chuckled, taking the opportunity to snuggle back into her sister’s protective embrace. At last that was out of the way. Now there was no need for Sweetie to worry about it, it was out there, it had been said, and she’d been understood. Her sister hadn’t blown a fuse or gone psycho or anything. And of course she wouldn’t have, how could she have even thought that? It was Rarity, her sister! The pony she’d spent her entire life with and getting to know. Of course she would have understood. No need to worry about it anymore.
But…
Why was Sweetie still nervous?
All had been said and done now. Rarity knew, she and Scootaloo could carry on their relationship without having to hide it from her but… she still felt uneasy. As if something wasn’t quite right. She believed what she’d said, and she’d spoken from her heart, but still something nagged at her, twisted her round its axel. Rarity gently stroked Sweetie’s mane as she spoke softly, “Now you make sure you’re careful, alright? I don’t know what it is you two do and I don’t want to know, but just make sure you do it carefully. I’ve known ponies who’ve had their lives ruined because they didn’t take proper precautions so just you promise me that you’ll not do the same. You’ll be safe, won’t you Sweetie?” “Yea. I’ll be safe. I know all that, we were told in school.” “Yes but I worry, Sweetie Belle. I just don’t want you doing anything you regret. Don’t let this mare of yours force anything on you and for goodness sake if you are going to do anything take time to plan it first. Do it safely once and you’ll save yourself a world of bother. Don’t rush these things and don’t let them put pressure on you. You are only sixteen after all! There’s no rush to do it all now; save something for when you’re a little older and more mature, okay? You’ll appreciate it more then.”
Sweetie only nodded silently into Rarity’s chest. She’d heard it all before, from her and from the national curriculum. She could handle herself now, she had maturity beyond her years, and she knew when to quit and when to stand her ground. But that wasn’t what was concerning her. There was something else, something that still ate away at her. Sweetie couldn’t figure out what it was, but it wouldn’t go away. There was something she hadn’t said, or something that she still knew but wouldn’t admit to. But she didn’t know what it was. Was it that she didn’t truly love Scootaloo? Was she only doing this out of sympathy for her? No. No that wasn’t true, she did love Scootaloo as much as anypony else, more even. That wasn’t it.
So… what was it?
Maybe…
Maybe she just needed to calm herself down again. That was probably it. She’d just had a very tense fifteen minutes or so and she still had the jitters. All she needed to do was get away and chill for maybe an hour or two. That would probably be it, it felt something like that. She still had some homework to do for tomorrow too, so that might be playing a part in it. She groaned inwardly. Mathematics wasn’t her strong suit, that landed more in Scootaloo’s ball park, but she had to get it done. She hadn’t missed a homework this year and she was determined to keep her record clean. After all, if she was planning on entering further education she’d need all of the positive attention she could get. That was probably contributing to this feeling. There was a lot of academic pressure on her and she felt compelled to succeed, if not for her sake then for her sister’s sake. And there were also chores she’d promised she’d do and hadn’t done. That certainly wasn’t helping. Oh, and she’d said she’d try finding a job somewhere. Her sister was reluctant to take her on though. She said it was because she wanted her to ‘get a real taste of the employment process’ but she had her doubts about that.
Well that was it then, she was just suffering from the combined pressure of several different minor things. She needed to calm herself down, then she could tackle what work she still needed to do. If she felt up to it, she’d do those chores, otherwise they could wait. As for a job, that could definitely wait until the summer. All that would probably take her to… what, 5 o’clock? Three hours maybe, four hours tops? That wasn’t too bad, and that was assuming her equations were especially challenging. She could always try asking Scootaloo for some help there, but chances are she was way behind the drag curve and wouldn’t be of much help at all. Then, when everything was over, she would feel a lot better. The nerves would have dissipated and she could enjoy the rest of her afternoon with Scootaloo. Maybe they could even start planning a date or something?
“Okay, Sweetie Belle?” “What?” “Promise me that, Sweetie.” “Oh, yea. I promise.” “You have been listening to me, Sweetie? Haven’t you?” “Yea, all that about being safe and not rushing ahead and all that.” “And coming to speak to me if you have any concerns.” “Yea. That too.”
The two sisters shared a moment of silence together, wrapped in each other’s embrace and enjoying each other’s comfort. The only sound for about five minutes came when something on the ground floor clattered noisily and startled the two. Rarity sighed, “Well, thank you for telling me all of that Sweetie. I knew something was bothering you and I’m glad you’ve got that in the open. And thank you for listening to me, too. I know you’ve heard it all before but I feel better for knowing that you understand.” “No problem. Thanks sis.” “Don’t worry about it. Now go and sort that filly out. I don’t know what she’s doing but it better not be expensive. Anyway, I have my work to finish and I think you do too.” Sweetie pushed herself away from her sister and rose back to her hooves, a little shakily as her knees ached somewhat. She sniffed once to herself, brushed her mane a few times, and exhaled deeply. With one final nod to her sister, she turned to leave the room, closing the door behind her and leaving her sister to her work.
As the humming of the sewing machine once again resumed, Sweetie stood by herself outside the door. Now just to get all that work done. Nothing to it really, it was all stuff she’d done before. She could talk to Scootaloo whilst she worked, that would make it a little less painful. Then all would be well. She could stop worrying and things would be okay again. Things would be okay again. Yes, yes they would. Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
“Hey Sweetie. Sorry about that, I wasn’t looking where I was going. So… uh… did you tell her?” “Yea.” “Was she cool with it?” “Yea.” “You sure? You look a little nervous about something.” “No, I’m fine. Just gotta get my work done. I’ll be fine after that. Everything will be fine.” Sweetie absentmindedly went about putting the kitchen in its place whilst Scootaloo sat at the table, drumming her hooves on the wooden surface as an awkward silence fell between them. “So… what happens now? Are we good to keep on going? Does she even know it’s me? Did you tell her it was me?” “We can keep on going. She knows it’s you. I didn’t tell her but she knows. She figured it out, I can tell.” Sweetie threw a collection of crockery items into a cupboard and swept the table clear of detritus. Scootaloo just waited as Sweetie carried on with her work.
“Sweetie are you sure everything’s okay? You still look a little nervous about something. Was she not cool about it? Are you just trying to come to terms with it? Trust me, Sweetie, if my… if my parents… if I’d told them I was into mares I don’t think they’d have taken it very well but your sis? She’s cool, okay? Even if she doesn’t seem it now, she’ll come around, I know she will.” “She is cool with it. She has no problem with it. Everything’s fine, Scootaloo. I just need to get my work done.” “Sweetie, I…” “Hey Scootaloo do you know how to solve a simultaneous equation?” Sweetie pushed a sheet of printed paper towards her and tapped at one of the lines of numbers with a pen. “Because I can’t do this one. I know you did a bit of it back just before you left school so maybe you could help me? You’re a numbers filly, aren’t you?” “Yea… okay, let me have a look at that.” Scootaloo took Sweetie’s pen and started to jot a few numbers down next to the question. “But Sweetie, I know something’s up with you. You can always tell when there’s something up with me and… and I think I can tell when there’s something up with you. You’re never this quiet. And you never randomly change the topic like that. What’s up?” “Nothing’s up, I was just focusing on my work, that’s all. Don’t worry yourself, Scootaloo, I’m fine! It’s you I’m worried about. Have you been sleeping well? Are you having anymore nightmares?”
Scootaloo underlined her answers to the question and slid the pen and paper back towards Sweetie, leaning forward as she did so, “Don’t make this about me, Sweetie. I’m fine. I’ve had a few nightmares but I’m learning to cope. Stop trying to pass off the focus to me or these stupid questions. Answer me, Sweetie, what’s wrong?” “Oh, I would never have got that. What method were you using? Am I just missing something obvious? Perhaps you could talk me through the next one.” “Sweetie! You’re doing it again, stop it! Look at me,” Scootaloo pushed the papers off the table so as to leave nothing for Sweetie to use as a distraction. The filly looked around frantically for a moment for something to draw attention to other than herself, but found nothing. Scootaloo dominated her gaze and where ever she looked Scootaloo moved to block her gaze. “What is wrong, Sweetie? Something is definitely not good with you.”
What could she say? She didn’t know why she felt nervous, she didn’t know what it was that was tearing her up inside. Something was wrong, Scootaloo had hit that nail on the head, but Sweetie didn’t know what, and she didn’t know how to tell Scootaloo that. She’d probably just accuse her of trying to deflect attention again, or of hiding what the real problem was. Sweetie didn’t know, but how did she tell Scootaloo that? “What is wrong, Sweetie Belle?” “I… I don’t know. I don’t know, okay? I just don’t know.” Sweetie buried her face into her hooves, encasing herself into a tomb of blackness. “I don’t know. I should be feeling fine, better than fine even. Rarity knows about us now and she’s totally cool with it and all this other work is just trivial really. There’s nothing left for me to be nervous about but… I don’t know, something’s still making me uneasy. I don’t know, okay Scootaloo? I just don’t know!”
Sweetie sobbed gently.
“Whoa, o-okay Sweetie, keep it cool now. I… I probably came across a little strong there, and I’m sorry. You’re way better at words than me I… I’m sorry if I scared you. Hey, c-come on now, don’t do this. If you start crying I’m gonna cry, okay, so… so don’t do that. It’s okay Sweetie, I understand, alright? I understand. I get that sometimes too, when you know something’s bothering you but you can’t figure out what, I get that.” Scootaloo was quick to rush around the table and warp Sweetie into her fore legs, doing her best to comfort her. Sweetie was so much better at this than she was. Sweetie had that soothing voice and that way with words and those disarming eyes. Scootaloo was no good at that sort of thing. She decided it would be best for her just to stay quiet. She didn’t want to say anything that’d make it worse.
“Maybe you just need to sleep on it.” “Yea. That… that’s probably it. Sorry, Scootaloo, I suppose I’m still just a little on edge. I’ve been anticipating this for weeks now and… I’ve probably still got a lot of adrenaline coursing through me. That’s probably it, actually. I probably don’t even have any problems I’m just making trouble where there is none. I’ll just sleep on it and I’ll be better by tomorrow, I’m sure. Thanks, Scootaloo.” “Hey, no problem. You’ve always been there for me these past months and I’m always gonna be here for you. That’s how relationships work, right? You’re there for each other?” “Yea. We’re here for each other.”
Sweetie was still shaking after Scootaloo let her go. She was still shaking as she finished the rest of her work. She was still shaking when she tucked herself away to sleep. She couldn’t shake this feeling. This feeling that seemed to stand over her. Throughout the afternoon and evening, she thought she’d figured out what it was that was making her feel like this.
Scootaloo tapped her hoof on the desk absentmindedly. She looked around the room. It hadn’t changed a lot since she’d last been there, but most of the posters and notices had been swapped for more mature, more modern ones and the wall at the back had been extended slightly to fit more ponies in. It was a little off putting at first, but Scootaloo had gotten used to it. She only half listened to what was being said as she retreated inside herself, thinking. This was not the sort of place she wouldn’t have seen herself in a few months ago. Nor, indeed, could she believe she was here now.
Yes, despite everything that steered her away, Scootaloo had done the unthinkable. She had gone to school. She couldn’t quite believe it herself, but here she was in the classroom, with her classmates and with her teacher, with Sweetie Belle on one side and Apple Bloom on the other, just like old times. She surprised herself. The notes seemed to be making themselves, the knowledge was just sticking. In fact, she’d barely even exerted herself. After the amount of time she’d spent away, Scootaloo had expected to struggle at first, but here she was, filling in maybe her tenth sheet of notes with numbers and words and diagrams, colourful underlining and careful labelling and all. She’d never been this studious.
Even Cheerilee, the embodiment of all her sorrow, had proved to be little bother. They had both compromised with each other and both come to accept the things they’d done wrong in the past, and they’d moved on. Scootaloo may even have said she’d kind of liked her now. Scrawling onto the blackboard at the front of the class, she balanced with unmatched expertise on her hind legs, both simultaneously writing and explaining like a true tutor. Scootaloo hummed to herself as she worked, firing off another few sheets of notes before she could even comprehend what she was writing.
It was incredible; Scootaloo couldn’t even remember a time when she’d been this intent on learning. Actually, come to think of it, she couldn’t even remember coming into school that morning. Everything prior to the lesson beginning was just a black haze, as if it had never existed. The lesson had been passing incredibly quick as well. Scootaloo looked down at her work, and when she looked back up a whole hour had passed. Maybe it was the thrill of being back, and having not had to deal with Diamond or Silver Spoon. She smiled to herself. It was about time the two of them were expelled.
Scootaloo looked up at the blackboard, which seemed so far away from her seat. She sat and watched for a moment, content in her note taking ability by this point and simply taking a moment to relax her hoof. Cheerilee wrote out an equation, circled it a few times, drew a diagram, labelled it a bit. The teacher stopped for a moment, not writing not drawing and just looking at what she’d put up for her class to see. In her current pose, she was blocking a large portion of the board from Scootaloo’s perspective, but she didn’t mind that much. With a slight nod, Cheerilee resumed her work. Scootaloo still couldn’t see past her, but she seemed to be drawing up another diagram.
Her hoof circled for a while, around and around, trailing off upwards and curving back down. She added a few dashes here or there. Scootaloo leant to one side a little to try and catch a glimpse at it, but it seemed that wherever she moved, Cheerilee moved as well. Scootaloo waited patiently, a full five minutes passing before Cheerilee dropped her chalk to the floor and stepped back. With an artistic flourish, she turned to the side and revealed her creation to the class, ready to explain and to instruct.
And in that moment Scootaloo’s stomach dropped.
“Now look, class, see how it curves around here to just the right diameter to fully encompass the neck. If it’s too big then it won’t work. Also note the adequate length of the extension. The extension should be at just the right length in direct proportion to the distance to be travelled. Now, there are several ways you can do this, none of which are very easy to explain, but I’m sure at least one of you should be able to give it a go,” Cheerilee briefly scanned her audience, before her icy stare fell on. “Scootaloo. You’re quite knowledgeable in this subject. Why don’t you tell us all about the optimum size of knot to use?”
***
Sweetie Belle blinked drowsily in the cold, misty morning. Winter had descended upon Ponyville for sure, and the sun, low in the sky, was masked behind a screen of translucent mist. The air was bitter cold, biting at Sweetie’s face pinching at her skin. She groaned softly as cradled her forehead in one hoof, sleep still desperately trying to retake her. Her muzzle buried deeply into her scarf to protect her nose from the harsh bitterness. Why were the school doors always locked? More importantly, why was she always ten minutes early? In summer it was nice to chill and chat with Applebloom before lessons begun, but it wasn’t the same when their conversations were limited to mumbles through heavy, padded clothing.
With a soft grunt, Sweetie shuffled about and pushed her saddlebags into a more comfortable position on her back. Why so many textbooks? Despite her ears being cosily smothered beneath a large fur hat, Sweetie could hear the incoming trudge of hooves behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder brought a pony so heavily clad in winter gear into her field of vision. Until they were right up alongside her, Sweetie wouldn’t have been able to tell who it was. Beneath a hat surprisingly larger than hers, Apple Bloom’s face glanced to the side to meet Sweetie’s gaze. Her cheeks, nay her entire face, were a bright scarlet, already feeling the full force of the unnaturally cold winter.
“Mornin’.” “Hey. Cold, isn’t it?” “Eeyup. ‘Tis that.” Apple Bloom shivered violently for a moment, trying to get some blood flowing through her legs. “Ya’ll doin’ okay?” “I’m… I’m very tired. Scootaloo had a real bad nightmare last night and… I didn’t really sleep very well myself.” “How is Scoots? She ain’t mad at me or nothin’?” “No, Bloom, she’s not mad at you. I’ve told you that before. She’s told you that before.” “Still can’t help feelin’ the guilt, though. Just want ‘er to be back t’ normal, s’all.” “So does she.”
So do I. Sweetie couldn’t help tacking that on in her mind.
Apple Bloom fell back onto her haunches and squirmed her way out of her saddlebags, furiously rubbing her forelegs together. Sweetie remained standing, not trusting that she’d be able to get back up again if she sat down. She was groggily combing her brain for something to talk about other than Scootaloo. As much as she loved her and everything, and as much as she cared for her, she just… didn’t want to think about her at that moment. She played around with the collar of her coat for a while, trying to angle it against the light but piercingly cold breeze. Her nose suddenly lit up and she sneezed loudly, rubbing her nose back into her scarf short afterwards.
“So how’s the scholarship going?” “What? Oh, that. Meetin’ with somepony next week to talk it over. Can ya believe it? Never thought they’d even consider somepony from mah background. Who knows, if things go well I could be studying up in Fillydelphia this time next year.” Sweetie nodded, “You were always the practical type. Deft with a hammer and nails. I suppose architecture was just the next logical step, huh?” “Ya’ll said it. Still, I think I’ll miss the farm’n all. I’ll miss this stupid little town. I’ll miss you and Scoots. And mah sis, and Mac,” she sniffled and toyed with her gloves. “If I get it that is. Don’t think mah sis nor I could afford to pay fer it. Suppose I’ll just stay ‘n work the farm if I don’t. It’s what I’m used to, after all.” “Mmm.”
There was maybe a minute’s silence between the two. In that time, a rather wide eyed Cheerilee approached them, either desperate to get out of the cold or itching for her third coffee that morning. “Morning girls. Good to see you here as usual.” “Morning, Miss Cheerilee,” Sweetie chimed, admittedly a little half-heartedly. Apple Bloom didn’t reply. “How’s the scholarship going, Apple Bloom?” “Fine, thanks.” “Well, that’s good to hear. Brrr, as much as I love the winter, I don’t much enjoy this chill. Oh, this lock always gets sticky in this weather.” Cheerilee fumbled with the key, dropping it several times trying to keep hold of it with her thick gloved fore hoofs. Eventually she managed to get the key inserted and lock unlocked, letting the door to the senior block swing open. “In you go, girls. No sense in freezing to death out here.”
Sweetie gratefully accepted the invitation, hurrying inside and into the not-so-warm interior of the building. Cheerilee was close behind, and Apple Bloom stumbled in last, dragging her saddlebags behind her having evidently not bothered trying to put them back on. Cheerilee voiced intentions towards putting the heating on and waved Sweetie and Apple Bloom into the common room until school started for the day. They were only too happy to comply; the common room was definitely warmer than most of the other rooms in the building. Sweetie threw her saddlebags onto a shelf and collapsed into a chair, already feeling exhausted despite having only just gotten into school. Apple Bloom was quick to follow suit, also removing most of her heavy winter clothing in the process and hanging it onto one of many hooks.
The two talked for a few minutes, Sweetie trying her hardest to steer conversation away from Scootaloo, despite Apple Blooms ‘subtle’ attempts to bring it up. She loved Scootaloo and all, but she just… didn’t want to talk about her now. Not after the night she’d had to endure with her just before. Ponies filtered into the room in dribs and drabs over the course of the next fifteen or so minutes. Some merely poked their heads round the door to see who was in before vanishing on some personal errand, whilst others unpacked and set themselves up for last minute homework or revision.
Apple Bloom had been trying to explain various architectural principles to Sweetie for the past five minutes (most of which made no sense to her), but the farm pony as well as the majority of other ponies in the room hushed somewhat when a certain infamous somepony arrived. Diamond Tiara was quick to throw a small group of her fellow students off the desk they were using, claiming it for herself and her close friends. Or friend, as it were. Sweetie didn’t immediately notice, but she was gritting her teeth rather painfully hard. She felt tense, expecting Diamond and her slowly growing posse to confront her at some point about some issue or other. What would it be today, DT?
Sweetie’s instinctual tensing was not from lack of experience, and her fears were only too quickly founded when over came trotting the very young mare herself, pride of place before her as though she was expecting to be worshipped, “You two are still here, huh?” “Why wouldn’t we be?” Sweetie was very careful with the words she chose, taking great care not to let slip anything Diamond could use. “Only, since the orange one disappeared, we kinda thought you’d soon do the same.” “Well we’re still here, Diamond. Sorry to disappoint.” “Speaking of disappointments, what ever happened to the little chicken? She’s not still sick is she? What’s she got like, pneumonia or something?”
Out of the corner of her eye Sweetie could see Apple Bloom slowly beginning to turn red. She was about to say something to try and diffuse the situation, but before she could Apple Bloom rounded on Diamond with malice in her voice, “Actually, since ya’ll are askin’, she attempted…” Sweetie quickly brought to bear what little magic she knew and gave Apple Bloom a sharp jab in the ribs. Their eyes met for a moment and Sweetie gave her head the slightest of shakes. Apple Bloom bit her lip. “Well? She attempted what?” “She… attempted to come in last week but… but we said she weren’t well enough to come back.” Sweetie piped up from the side lines with her own little input, “But she’s getting better. Not that you really care, of course.” “No, you’re right, I don’t really care. This was a waste of time, as usual. Come on fillies, let’s see if we can copy Rumble’s chemistry work.”
And thus the fleet sailed off, with the flagship standing tall and proud above the rest. Apple Bloom gently massaged her ribs where Sweetie had shocked her, quietly seething. “Sorry about that, Apple Bloom. I had to stop you telling them.” “Why can’t we tell ‘em? If they knew the truth they’d stop.” “No they wouldn’t. Believe me, it would only get worse. It’s best that they don’t know the truth… for now. Not until Scootaloo’s ready to tell them herself. I think it’s better this way. “She’s a real bitch, ain’t she?” “Mmm. I don’t think it’s her fault, though. I heard somepony say her father hits her.” “I heard that ‘n all. Do ya reckon it’s true?” “I hope not. Nopony should ever beat their own foals, I know my parent’s didn’t.” “Try growin’ up as an Apple then, Sweetie. Ya’ll ‘ll soon know the meanin’ a’ discipline.” “You’re sister’s lovely though.” “When I’m not misbehavin’ she is.”
Sweetie shrugged to indicate she was done talking about it. Whatever the reality of the situation, Diamond was still dangerous. She’d shot Scootaloo down before, in the most brutal of ways, too. Telling her the truth would only give her more ammunition. It wasn’t worth taking that risk, not in Sweetie’s eyes anyway. She could stand Diamond’s teasing. She’d hardened somewhat over the years, numbed to it. It was Apple Bloom she was more worried about. That young mare had a short fuse at the best of times, and when the teasing turned to Scootaloo that fuse was even shorter. All Sweetie could do was keep an eye on her for now, and make sure she didn’t say anything she’d later regret.
“In all seriousness, though, how is she?” “Hmm?” “Scootaloo. Ya’ll keep sayin’ she’s doin’ fine an’ all, but how’s she actually doin’?” Sweetie thought for a moment, then passively shrugged again, “She’s… just fine. I dunno what else to tell you.” “She’s not havin’ no more a’ them nightmares is she? From what ya’ll said they sounded bad.” This made Sweetie shuffle about uncertainly. Should she tell her? Apple Bloom was just as much Scootaloo’s friend as she was, but maybe some things like this were best left unsaid? Would Apple Bloom be able to cope, knowing that one of her best friends was still being tormented by some inner demons? After a while she reasoned that her silence was making it rather obvious that something was up, so she decided to spill.
“Well… not exactly. She’s still having the occasional nightmare. She had one last night actually, and it was pretty bad. I actually think it was worse than the ones she was having only a few weeks after. She woke up in the middle of the night and I only knew she was awake because she fell out of bed. She told me she’d been trying to scream but for some reason she felt like she was choking, or being strangled or something like that. I was up for most of the night comforting her. Probably explains why I’m so tired now.” Apple Bloom was silent. She just gazed at Sweetie, her eyes completely void of emotion, her face barren and expressionless. Sweetie felt quite uncomfortable for a while, unsure of how that had gone down, until Apple Bloom finally spoke, “Damn Sweetie. How could ya have not told me ‘bout that? That’s some nasty stuff. I dunno what to say. I wish I could be there fer her, like ya’ll are, but… I dunno. You seem to be doin’ a good job an’ all, or at least better than I could ever do. I’m still feelin’ pretty powerless though, you sure there ain’t nothin’ I can do?” “Just… just make sure that… when she does finally get back into the swing of things… make sure you’re there to welcome her back. Eventually she’s gonna be back out in the world, and she’ll need even more help and support than she’s getting now. You just gotta… we… just gotta stay strong and wait and… hope for the best I suppose.” “If ya’ll say so.”
A moment of awkward silence fell between the pair. It shouldn’t have been awkward, but for some reason Sweetie felt it was. Simply over-analysing, probably, but it felt that way. Apple Bloom eventually broke the silence by approaching her with another question, “And how are the two a’ ya doing? Like, relationship wise an’ all?” “Fine thanks, yea.” Sweetie sank slightly deeper into her chair. She still couldn’t shake this feeling. This feeling that something was off about the whole relationship. What annoyed her most was that she couldn’t figure out what it was, whether it was something she felt deep inside herself or a vibe she was getting from Scootaloo. The fact remained, though, that something didn’t feel right in the air. Maybe she should talk to Scootaloo about it? No, she did that too much, and every time she did the feeling still didn’t go away. Maybe it was just a temporary feeling? Maybe it was just that her mind was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that she wasn’t straight? Or maybe, and this thought worried her, maybe her mind was trying to tell her that she was, and she was only lying to herself for Scootaloo’s sake? She didn’t like any of those thoughts.
“Ya’ll planning to do anything nice?” “Hmm?” “I said are ya’ll planning anything nice? Like, a date or something. I ain’t seen you two out together much.” Sweetie pondered that thought for a moment. Maybe that would help? It would provide a little extra stability, help to prove that this wasn’t just in her head and it actually was real. A sign of commitment, a display of sincerity. Would that put her mind at rest? It was certainly worth a shot, and even if it didn’t work, she could still have fun anyway. “Well not really, but now you mention it I reckon it’d be nice to go out for an evening. Yea, I’ll pitch it to her this afternoon, see what she says. She’s getting a lot more confident with going out again, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble for her.” “Well ya’ll keep me in the loop, ya hear? I don’t wanna be left out.” “You’d rather be a third wheel instead?” “Shut up.”
The two didn’t speak for quite some time after. They just sat in silence, letting everything sink in. Sweetie knew how Apple Bloom felt, that feeling of wanting to help but not knowing how. That’s about how they’d both felt just before Scootaloo’s… incident. Sweetie yawned loudly, last night starting to really catch up on her. She just hoped she’d have the energy to make it through the day. And she’d just realised she’d forgotten her lunch. And her chemistry homework.
“I suppose the worst part for me is… the nightmares. They come and go but… they can be pretty bad. Like, real bad.” Scootaloo shuffled about anxiously in the extremely uncomfortable plastic chair she’d been in for the past hour and a half. She kept her eyes firmly affixed to the floor, not daring to look in fear of being confronted by judging faces. This was so stupid, why did she agree to this? Why was Sweetie so persuasive? Scootaloo gently rubbed a hoof against her throat, silently reassuring herself that there was nothing wrapped around it that could harm her. She felt so silly sitting here doing this, she just wanted to disappear.
“I know how you feel, I used to have nightmares. They’ve mostly subsided now but I’m getting these freaky flashbacks instead. Usually it’s maybe once a day. It’s pretty debilitating, and it worries my sis no end.” Scootaloo looked up at another young mare sitting maybe a yard away from her. She kept rubbing her forelegs just above her hooves, as if protecting them. Scootaloo took in the rest of the ponies in the room. Three stallions, two other mares, all sitting anxiously and fidgeting and all carrying a burden of regret. The mare spoke again, “I just wish I could go back and change things. Stop myself doing it, you know? I wish I could… slap myself round the muzzle and just tell myself to pull myself together. Can’t even remember what was going through my head; how I could have been so stupid.”
A stallion with a deep green fur coat, garbed in a long white lab coat with an identity badge clipped onto it quickly intervened, “Now Meadows, you remember what we said. We aren’t stupid, right? Depression is not the same thing as idiocy, and you did your best to try and fight it, you all did. Nopony remembers what they were thinking at the time, nor why they thought it would solve anything. The reality is that we’re all still here, right? So let’s just be thankful of that fact and try not to dwell on the past. Let’s focus instead on improving our lives now, in the present, so we can go on and improve our lives for the future. Scootaloo you look like you want to say something?”
The pegasus folded her forelegs before her subconsciously. She didn’t like this stallion. She didn’t trust him. She was, however, aware of an entire room full of eyes upon her and expecting her to say something. Scootaloo snorted and looked the doctor in the eyes, “Well, doc, it’s just that…” “Please, Scootaloo, we like to keep things informal here, just call me Mental Spectrum.” Scootaloo ground her teeth slightly, “It’s just that… what you said about not remembering is wrong. I remember. I remember exactly what I was thinking, and what I was feeling.” “Oh? Would you care to share your feelings with the group?” The doctor leaned forward slightly, peering at her with light brown eyes devoid of all emotion but cold and calculating analysis.
“Yea, you know what, I will share it with the group. I can remember feeling relief. Relief that it was finally over, that everything was about to end, that I wouldn’t have to care about all the shit life had dealt me. I was happy to be ridding the world of the burden that I was. I didn’t want to survive. Unlike all these… pansies who were all silently hoping they’d be saved. Well I didn’t, I wanted to end it, I didn’t want to survive.” “And yet you did, Scootaloo, didn’t you? Why was that?” “Because… because somepony rescued me. The only pony in this world who still cared for me… she rescued me.” “And are you not thankful for that?” “Yea, well… well of course I’m thankful.” “You’re glad she rescued you? Glad that you’re still here with us?” Scootaloo was silent for a moment, “Yes. But only because it’s meant I can see how much she did truly care for me.” This guy was way too good at shutting ponies down for Scootaloo’s liking.
“Scootaloo?” One of the stallions, maybe a year older than Scootaloo, spoke up for the first time in the entire session. “If you’re cool with me using your name?” “Yea, I’m cool.” “Well… I know you’re angry. I’m not gonna tell you what you’re angry at. I was angry too. That’s why I… that’s why I drank... it. Rage did me no good, and it’ll do you no good either. If you keep being angry at everypony, you’re never gonna get better.” The stallion looked at Scootaloo with something she’d almost consider to be concern. Scootaloo could feel her anger begin to mellow slightly. The stallion had those same disarming eyes that Sweetie had, that same buttery smooth voice. Scootaloo felt sorry for him. At least she still had the use of all four limbs. She eyed the set of crutches that rested against the back of his chair and exhaled deeply. “Yea. I know, you’re right. I’m sorry everypony, I just… lose control sometimes.” “That’s okay Scootaloo,” the doctor spoke again. “You’ve been through a lot, we all have. But now it’s time to start thinking about how we can make things right again. We’re out of time this week, I’m afraid, but I would like you all to go home today and ask your friends or your family or whoever is close to you if they forgive you. Some may take it harder than others but sometimes ponies are unable to move on and recover because they still feel guilty, or they feel like those close to them don’t forgive them. Remember, if any of you have any problems throughout the week, you can contact me by telephoning my place of work in Canterlot. I’ll see you all next week.”
There was a chorus of mostly rather half-hearted ‘thank you Mental Spectrum’s, before the ponies in the circle stood themselves up and gathered what items they’d brought with them. Scootaloo flung her head back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. She felt drained, emotionally speaking, by the whole experience. She didn’t really feel any better having spent the last two hours sat in a room with other ponies who’d been through similar circumstances. She should tell Sweetie that she wasn’t going back, it would save her the twenty two bits. No, this sort of thing was never going to work for her, so she should just stop before Sweetie wasted too much of her money. With an exasperated sigh, Scootaloo picked herself up and motioned towards the exit, not keen on stopping for an after session chat.
As was to be expected, Sweetie was waiting for her in the room just beyond the main hall. She was nestled deeply in a scarf and coat, cradling a mug of coffee in her fore hooves and sipping every once in a while. Had she been waiting there the whole two hours? Scootaloo hoped not, she didn’t want to feel she’d wasted her time. Sweetie looked to be deep in thought, but as Scootaloo approached her she quickly snapped back to reality and perked up, “Oh, hey, is that the session over then? Wow, two hours really flew by. How was it? Was it helpful? Did you pick up any useful techniques? Did you meet anypony nice?” Scootaloo sighed, “Sweetie, I really appreciate you doing this for me and all, but I don’t think…” She was abruptly cut off as somepony behind her called out to her.
“Hey Scootaloo. I’ll see you next week, right?” Scootaloo glanced over her shoulder to see the stallion burdened by crutches stood behind her, towering over her as he was forced to stand almost upright. Scootaloo would probably have felt intimidated if the stallion wasn’t so… nice. “Um… Uh, yea, yea I guess so.” “Alright, cool. Just checking. Who’s this, your friend? I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Sorry, I’ll leave you two to it; I’ll see you next week Scootaloo.” Scootaloo nodded in the affirmative and waved the stallion off. Sadly he was unable to wave back but he nodded his head slightly instead. Scootaloo sighed. Well, looks like she would be going next week after all.
“Sooo who was that then?” “Just some colt from the session. Can’t remember his name. Come to think of it, I’m not convinced he ever said it.” Sweetie gave her partner a little nudge. “What?” “He so has a crush on you, you know that?” “What? No he doesn’t! And I’m all about dat mare anyway so that’d be kinda awkward.” “Yea he does, why else would he be so keen to make sure you’d be coming next week? All I can say is he better keep his hooves off my filly or I’ll knock him six ways to Sunday!” Scootaloo was somewhat taken aback by this sudden display of aggression. Not that aggression was anything new to her, it was just a surprise hearing it come from Sweetie, “Sweetie you can’t beat up a colt with crutches!” “I know Scoots, I was making a joke.” Sweetie winked.
The two walked back to the boutique together from the hospital, talking as they went. Scootaloo got a good chance to unload about how much she disliked the doctor, and Sweetie teased her more about her recently obtained admirer. It was now a bitter early December, and there was talk amongst the weather pony teams of snow in the not too distant future, which promised endless hours of entertainment to come for those that could stick the sub-zero temperatures. Scootaloo had loved playing in the snow when she was younger, partial in her time to pelting other fillies with snow balls from behind heavy cover and becoming a remarkably good shot over the years, but as she’d gotten older she’d started to lose her passion for it. Maybe it would soon be time she got back into it?
When they finally made it back, they were chilled through to the bone and grateful that Rarity had flicked the heating on. Sweetie chirped up again as she unravelled her scarf, “So, did the evil doctor set you guys any homework?” “Yea but I’m not doing that bullshit. Waste of time.” “You know normally I’d ask what it was and then insist that it’s for the greater good, but just for once I’ll leave this one unchallenged. Besides, you can’t be doing homework when we’re planning to spend the evening together!” Sweetie nuzzled up close to Scootaloo as she said this. Scootaloo looked up, her brain taking a moment to make the necessary connections. “Oh yea, how did I forget about that? What is it we’re doing again?” “I thought we’d just go out for dinner somewhere. Somewhere nice.” “Where?” “Shall I leave that up to you or shall I choose and keep it a surprise?” “Yea, I like that idea. Surprise me.” “I’ll do just that then, but you have to make me one promise.” “Mmmm…” “You gotta make yourself look nice for me. Knock me off my hooves so to speak.” “Are my normal dashing charms not enough for you anymore?” Sweetie motioned towards the stairs, hurling her scarf over a hook as she went. “And you have dashing charm in spades do you?” “Fuck off!”
Sweetie giggled, making her way up to the second floor. Scootaloo pulled her own scarf off from around her neck, letting it collapse onto the ground. She sighed. She didn’t have the guts to admit to Sweetie that she wasn’t really feeling it today. Sweetie just looked so excited and admittedly Scootaloo had kept her cooped up for the last couple months. They’d never been on a proper date before and Scootaloo just didn’t want to crush her now. Admittedly, all she really wanted to do was sit around and watch films and eat all of Rarity’s food. Scootaloo didn’t really think that was very romantic though, and she knew Sweetie was somewhat of a Petrarchan. She was also surprised that she knew that word.
“Scootaloo, darling, can you not just leave things on the floor like that, I’m trying to keep things tidy around here. This is still a shop after all, and appearances matter.” “Sorry, Rarity.” Scootaloo scooped her scarf up off the floor and hung it over a peg next to Sweetie’s, watching as the prim and proper unicorn went back to arranging a set of clothes on a rack. “Oh, and could you not use such crass language please? Again, shop and so on.” “Yea, sorry.” Scootaloo looked around. Yep, it was certainly a shop alright. A closed one. With nopony in it. The pegasus made to go after Sweetie, taking the first two steps in one, before stopping to think. “Rarity? Can I have a look at some of those clothes?”
***
Sweetie played around with a few different mane pins on her desk. She simply couldn’t decide which one she liked most. Well, no, that was a lie, she knew very well which one she liked the most, but part of her knew that a glitzy glamoury diamond pin would not go well with her chosen outfit. As her older sister would so aptly put it, it would be the worst… possible… etcetera. However, of her remaining options, she still couldn’t decide what to pick. This one would look alright, if a little too floral, but this one just complimented the trim so perfectly. And this one would just look simply divine, but it might be a little too much for just a simple date such as this. Maybe if she was off to the Gala or something.
Eventually she gave up and just picked one, not putting any more thought into it than, ‘Fuck it, that’ll do’. Really she knew she’d look absolutely fabulous anyway. Rarity had made the dress for her as a birthday present, so she knew it’d look nice no matter what she accompanied it with. The dress was just her style, girly but with sophistication and class. Wherever there was an admittedly somewhat unnecessary frill there was a carefully studded peridot stone that matched her eyes perfectly, and gave off an air of fine craftsmanship. And of course she’d spent hours making sure her mane was absolutely perfect, despite not being allowed to use a hairdryer after a very close call a year ago that nearly hospitalised her. Sweetie was starting to get the feeling that she just shouldn’t be trusted with anything that could cause a fire.
After a quick spray of (expensive) perfume, she felt ready to reveal herself to the world in all of her splendour. She picked herself up and made for the door, picking up a hefty collection of bits on her way. This evening was not going to be cheap, but careful saving and frequent begging and… a generous donation… had landed her enough money to make it affordable. Sweetie slipped the money into a well concealed pocket and pushed her door open, with movements towards the stairs. Scootaloo hadn’t come into her room at any point throughout the afternoon (she had strictly forbade it lest Scootaloo see her before she was ready), and come to think of it Sweetie hadn’t heard very much of her either. Was she even still here? Was she even ready yet herself? Was she even getting ready? Sweetie had to remind herself that this was Scootaloo she was thinking about. If she was getting ready at all she’d have been ready a long time ago.
Sweetie arrived on the ground floor, marvelling in her own magnificence. At that moment she was the prettiest filly in all of Equestria. And then she saw Scootaloo. Sweetie couldn’t help but stumble somewhat, despite herself. The pegasus had around her form a rather tightly fitting pastel yellow dress, relatively plain but oddly fitting for somepony of her character. She had also taken the time to apply make-up, something Sweetie had been sure would burn Scootaloo if it came into contact with her. Her eyelashes seemed to flutter with a delicacy befitting a mare of considerable status, and whatever she’d done with her lips made them look so wonderfully kissable Sweetie had to hold herself back with considerable mental willpower. The filly’s eyes shimmered bewitchingly, and Sweetie wasn’t yet convinced that Scootaloo wasn’t trying to put a spell on her. Sweetie could also make out a faint scent on the filly, floral, for some reason reminding her of lavender and lupines.
“I think I did a rather splendid job, don’t you?” Rarity was soon at her younger sister’s side, beaming with pride at her handiwork. “Having said that, though, it was certainly not easy. To some ponies, ‘sit still’ simply means ‘fidget about some more’. Well, have a pleasant evening you two, and don’t do anything silly. Oh, and I want you back here by eleven or I’m coming to look for you. You look nice, darling, it’s good to see that dress still fits you.” The unicorn strode back into her studio, a spring in her step and a tape measure about her neck. Sweetie stood in stunned silence, struggling to process what she was seeing. When it looked as though her higher mental processes had given up, Scootaloo spoke up. “I tried to tell her it was too much.” “Scootaloo… Scoots, I…” Sweetie was at a sheer loss for words. “I mean, I was cool with the dress for the most part but I tried to get her to stop when it came to the mascara but… well you know how your sister is.”
Sweetie carefully made her way towards the pegasus, unsure of whether or not she was really there. Was this a fantasy, had her daydreaming suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more realistic? Scootaloo fidgeted slightly, “By the way, you should ask your sister about her lipstick collection. It’s… well astounding I suppose is one word for it.” Sweetie didn’t respond. She just raised a hoof and touched it against Scootaloo’s lips. She gazed deeply into the filly’s wonderful purple eyes, as if in a trance. When she spoke, she spoke in a hushed voice. “Don’t ruin it, Scoots.” Scootaloo took a moment to react to this, “Okay.” “You look beautiful.” Scootaloo chuckled and rubbed a hoof against the back of her neck. A red hot blush had appeared on her face, “Heh, guess I’m still not used to hearing that. You look pretty stunning yourself. I really like your mane pin, it goes well with your…” “I chose it at random. Don’t even try and tell me I look anywhere near as good as you, you’re not a good enough liar to pull that one off.” “But it’s…” “Scootaloo, just let me revel in how pretty you are. You can compliment me later.”
The two stood in silence for a while, spending a few minutes admiring each other. Sweetie had never been so transfixed by anypony before in her life, except perhaps Celestia herself, and Pinkie Pie at one point but she’d only been about three at the time and that mare could hold her attention for hours. Eventually, Sweetie brought herself back to lucidity and smiled, “Well, should we get going then, gorgeous, we have a date to go on.” “Um… yea, we should probably do that… darling?” Sweetie giggled, “Leave the cute names to me, Scoots. You might want to grab a coat, or you might be a little chilly.” “Eh, I’ll just cuddle a little closer to you if I have to.” Scootaloo cast her marefriend a wink. “Hmmm, cute, but you can’t complain if you’re shivering out of your skin, okay?” “You got it.”
With Sweetie Belle leading, the pair made their way into the cold winter’s evening. The sun had long ago fallen below the horizon, and the streets were lit by old oil lamps that cast a bright amber glow, piercing the inky blackness of night and bestowing a sense of warmth upon the town. The sky was completely cloudless, and high above the town of Ponyville stars glittered brightly, a large, brilliant moon giving the night an almost ethereal feel. The air definitely carried a certain frosty chill to it, and both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle could tell that there would be some heavy snow the following morning. Shame it wasn’t a school night, or Sweetie could’ve looked forward to an extra day off.
“So where are we going then? I don’t know that Sugarcube Corner is open this late, at least not on Fridays.” “We’re not going to Sugarcube Corner, Scoots. I thought we’d go a little bit more up market. No offence to Pinkie of course.” “How much more up market?” Scootaloo cast Sweetie a sideways glance. How much was the filly planning to spend this evening? There was only really one place in Ponyville that Scootaloo could bring to mind that could really be considered ‘up market’, and that was… “I reserved us a table at La Magnifique. It took quite a bit of negotiation and a little help from my sister to land us a table at such short notice, but I managed it.” “Sweetie you know I’d be totally cool with just stopping by a café or something, right? You really don’t need to spend that much money to impress me, I’m pretty easy as far as that goes.” “Scootaloo I didn’t spend five hours getting ready to go to some café. Tonight we dine on the finest cuisine in northern Equestria, excluding everything in Canterlot. It’s only fitting for the most stunning mare in the country.” “You really are a flatterer, aren’t you?” “I get it from my sister.”
Just on the outskirts of Ponyville, where house prices were outrageously high, stood a grand looking establishment abuzz with the voices of the lucky individuals who had managed to secure a table in the place. Brilliant light poured from the doors and windows and in bright argon lettering the title ‘La Magnifique’ was spelt in impressive calligraphy. The place would have looked more fitting on the Las Pegasus Strip, but as it was it stood as Ponyville’s finest eatery that attracted ponies from all over, particularly those over encumbered with disposable income. Or the occasional savvy saver, as was the case. Scootaloo wouldn’t have admitted it openly, but she felt somewhat intimidated by the place, with its bright lights and buzzy atmosphere and sharp dressers. Sweetie seemed to be in her element so to speak but that did little to surprise the pegasus.
They made their way into a reception area of sorts, the walls of which seemed to be decorated with coats and hats rather than wallpaper. Those ponies arriving hurried in to escape from the bitter chill, and those about to leave loitered as much as possible, moving glacially slowly in an effort to stay out of the cold. Sweetie, with her Scootaloo in tow, approached a short mahogany podium, behind which a lanky stallion in a black waistcoat stood looking down at a register, peering over half rimmed glasses, despite probably being only middle aged. He looked up as Sweetie coughed unthreateningly, and his facial expression changed from one of placid boredom to one of just boredom. In a voice that carried a typical Canterlot accent, he asked, “I trust you’ve booked.” “We certainly have, sir! Table for two under the name Belle.” “Hmm. You’re not friends with that Tiara one, are you?” quizzed the stallion as he gazed down his register searching for the right name. “No, why?” “She’s the only filly I know who could afford this sort of thing. Just through this door here, ma’am, a waiter will take you to your table. Next.”
Scootaloo still rather dumbfounded by the whole thing followed closely behind her marefriend, soaking up scenery and trying not to be blown off her hooves. She disappeared through the door just as an aging stallion approached the podium and muttered, “Table for two, under the name Slide Rule.” Scootaloo was almost dragged by the hoof through the extravagant building, being passed every once in a while by a suave looking guest or an equally suave looking waiter. At some point a mare in the same black attire as the other serving staff appeared in front of them and seemed to be leading them somewhere, but Scootaloo was too busy trying to spot a single pony who didn’t look as though they had a net worth with six zeroes on the end.
The waiter ground suddenly to a halt and gestured at a table to her left, pushed up against a wall. The two took their seats on opposite sides, Sweetie gazing over at Scootaloo and Scootaloo gazing over at the mare on the table next to theirs, who had just made a comment about ‘common ponies’. The faint tinkling of piano music could faintly be heard over the multitude of voices in the restaurant, and Scootaloo managed to spot a stallion bashing away (artistically) at the keys of a large grand piano on the other side of the room. Next to him, as if waiting patiently for their turn, was a familiar looking stallion in a black coat, a guitar leaning next to the wall with him.
“Sweetie, I gotta ask,” Scootaloo managed to bring herself back down to earth for a moment. “I mean… I know you were saving and stuff, but no amount of begging and thrifty behaviour is going to make you enough money to afford all this. Where are you getting all this money from?” “Well… I was sorta hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” Sweetie anxiously ran her hoof in circles on the table, suddenly avoiding Scootaloo’s gaze. She’d promised not to tell. “You didn’t break into a museum or something, did you?” “No.” “Oh… It’s just that’d have been pretty cool.” “Well…” She’d promised not to tell. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt that much if I told you.” Scootaloo narrowed her eyes somewhat. Sweetie wasn’t the type to do anything out of malice, so whatever it was she’d done must have been done with best intentions. Right?
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you can’t tell. I… kinda promised I wouldn’t say. Well, you know the work Applebloom was doing down in Appleloosa? Well apparently it paid pretty damn handsomely and… well… I’m sure you can figure out the rest.” “You stole Applebloom’s money?” “What? No! She… she felt really guilty. Still. I know you’ve told her not to but she can’t help it. She wanted to do something to clear her mind. So she gave me the money and told me to take you somewhere nice. And here we are. Sorry.” Scootaloo was feeling a veritable cocktail of different emotions. Firstly, she was actually somewhat annoyed that Applebloom felt obliged to do something as generous as this. There was also happiness, relief, mild confusion, exasperation, and something that felt like heartburn that made her wince slightly. “Listen Scoots, I just want us to have a nice night. We’ve been through a lot the two of us, and this is our first date after all. Let’s try to make the most of it and not dwell on the past too much, eh?” Sweetie smiled that cute, disarming smile of hers. “Yea. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Are you ready to order, or should I give you a few more minutes?” The waiter that had shown them to their table now stood with a flip pad and pen poised to jot down requests. When both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle cast her blank looks, she put her tongue into her cheek and murmured, “I’ll give you five more minutes, will I?” “Uh, yea, thanks.” The mare bowed her head slightly and stepped off to attend to other rich customers. With a slight giggle, Sweetie pulled a menu closer to actually look at what was on offer. Scootaloo had never been in such a classy establishment before, and was certainly not used to the complicated names of the various dishes, a lot of which were in a language she didn’t even speak. She had to get Sweetie to help her out with what everything was, as even the descriptions were comprised mostly of words she didn’t know. Eventually she managed to decipher enough of the mysterious scripture to take a reasonable stab at ordering something, although her deliver to the waiter was shaky to say the least, and she had to make multiple attempts at it.
As soon as the waiter dragged herself away to the kitchen following the ordeal she’d just endured, she was replaced by a familiar face. Said familiar face failed to recognise the two initially, it was only when a puzzled Sweetie Belle murmured, “Applebloom?” That she acknowledged their presence. “Wha? Oh, howdy! Fancy runnin’ into you two here.” “We’re on our date,” replied Sweetie, a hint of pride in her voice and a slight blush tickling her face. “Ain’t that sweet? Ya’ll look real nice, Sweetie. And you too, Scoots, of course.” “You’re looking quite dressed up yourself,” Scootaloo was quick to point out. The young mare was sporting a professional looking blazer and a plain white shirt, with top button undone. It was perhaps the smartest any of them had ever seen Applebloom. “Heh. Yea, well, I’m meetin’ with somepony from Fillydelphia to discuss my scholarship. If all goes well, I could be up there studying fer a degree this time next year. I still can’t quite believe it myself. I’m supposed to be meetin’ some professor from the university, Slide Rule I think. Wait… I think that’s him. Good to see ya’ll, have a nice night now!” “Oh, we will. Best of luck!”
Scootaloo watched the farm pony nimbly navigate her way through the various tables, only just managing to not knock over a tray of expensive looking glasses as she did so. Scootaloo looked back at Sweetie with a raised eyebrow, “Scholarship?” “Oh yea, you weren’t there when she made that announcement! She’s been offered a scholarship to study architecture at Fillydelphia.” “Huh. Well good for her.” Scootaloo looked down into her hooves, shuffling slightly awkwardly. Sweetie, being Sweetie, noticed straight away that something was bothering her. “What’s the matter Scoots?” “Ummm… well I was just thinking. About education and that. I mean, I know I was never really that studious but… I’m so far behind by now. I haven’t got any qualifications to speak of. I can only just keep myself in the air with these bad boys,” she ruffled her wings slightly. “And I’m not exactly the most gifted mare in the world. I dunno, I guess I’m just now realising that I don’t really have any way of sustaining myself.”
Scootaloo looked away nervously. It hadn’t really troubled her before, but now it was really getting down to it, it was starting to get to her. How was she going to move on from all of this if she wasn’t even able to support herself? She had no future prospects to speak of. Following her experiences, she knew how dark and unforgiving a place the world could be, and she wasn’t looking forward to her future. Her breath caught slightly. Sweetie reached over the table and took one of Scootaloo’s hooves in hers, squeezing gently, “I understand. I know you’re worried about the future, and I don’t blame you. But you sell yourself too short sometimes. You remember back all those years ago when you used to perform your own modifications to your scooter? You even managed to fix up a few other things too while you were at it. You may not be an academic Scoots, or an athlete, but you have practical skills that ponies like me just… don’t. I don’t know how you do it but it’s almost like you can just… see how things work. I don’t know. Sure you’re not a scholar, and you’re not going to be a great scientist, but Equestria will always need a good mechanic, especially nowadays. You’ll find a way, Scoots, I know you will.”
Scootaloo took a moment to let what Sweetie had said sink in. In many ways she was right. But Scootaloo hadn’t picked up a spanner in years now, she was so out of practice she doubted she’d ever get back to the level she was once at. But if there was one thing Sweetie had taught her over the past few months since they’d been together, it was that she should try to be more positive. Sweetie was right, she’d find a way. The future wasn’t totally bleak. Sweetie moved a little closer, leaning over the table slightly, “And besides, I wouldn’t mind having you around a little longer. I mean, look at you, you’re absolutely gorgeous! And this is only our first date; we’ve got so much more to come! Can I be honest with you Scoots?” “Yea, of course.” “I… There was a period not long ago where I wasn’t quite comfortable accepting all of this. Something inside of me just made me feel like something was off. I had a hard time accepting that I was into mares. It’s stupid I know, and I felt like I was just lying to myself to make you happy.” “Oh… well… I mean if that’s how you feel I…” Scootaloo felt her heart sink slightly, and had to stop talking before she choked slightly. Was Sweetie breaking up with her? Now, of all times? Was she? “No, no, Scoots, you need to not jump the gun so much!” Sweetie gave her marefriend a playful push. “I still don’t think I’m totally into mares. I think I’m kinda… in between, you know? But anyway, there was a moment in time where I thought I was only lying to myself for your sake. Well tonight, seeing you the way you are, looking like absolutely the prettiest mare in all of Equestria, sealed the deal.” “Sweetie, I…” “I love you, Scootaloo. I love you with all of my heart. You drive me crazy, Scoots, I can’t get you out of my head. You’re so rugged and scruffy and rough around the edges and I love it!”
Sweetie leaned forward sharply before Scootaloo could even respond, basically standing on her chair to lean over the table. She locked her lips passionately onto Scootaloo’s, putting every ounce of passion she had into this one kiss, losing herself completely in those wonderful lips. She was vaguely aware of somepony to one side making some sort of comment of disapproval but she didn’t care, she loved this mare, her heart exploded every time she thought of her, she wanted her all for herself and she wanted to let her know it. Scootaloo leaned into the kiss, pouring just as much adoration into her efforts as her partner. Sweetie could feel her heart thundering in her chest, and fireworks went off in her head, her spine tingling. Eventually she had to break the kiss, but she did so only very reluctantly.
The two stared into each other’s eyes. Sweetie’s brilliant emerald eyes glittered in that way they always did, but instead of their usual disarming quality, they seemed to possess a strange fire and flare. In Scootaloo’s eyes, one could see so many different emotions and memories as they stared widely, what Sweetie now recognised as fear and concern being replaced by excitement, anticipation, and something that Sweetie hadn’t seen in Scootaloo’s fantastic purple eyes in a long time… joy. Sweetie smiled, “I love you, Scootaloo.” “Oh stop it, you’re gonna make my mascara run!” Scootaloo grinned awkwardly, fighting back tears. She’d never been so happy. Not for a long time at least. Suddenly her future seemed bright and full of cheer. She no longer feared what was to come. She didn’t expect to be totally free from her past, not yet at least, but at least now she could look forward to the future. Bring on the nightmares and flashbacks, she could take it, she could fight through it, because not only was she Scootaloo, the total badass with the sickest tricks, but she had the most wonderful mare in the entire world to support her. Now she knew she could move on. Now she knew she could conquer her past.
Now she knew she could begin to recover.
And this revelation came to her just as their waiter served up the starter.
