Rainbow Dash finally gets into the Wonderbolts when a crash lanes Spitfire in hospital.
A crash lands Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts, in hospital and unable to perform for the next show. Rainbow Dash has been asked to take her place, a mission she accepts. But, not everything is as angelic as it seems when Rainbow is asked to keep her position a secret, and much less when she learns more about the Wonderbolts history...
The ground was dry, long since burned by the sun’s scorching torment, blessed not by the cool of the rain, ground of which would be trodden underfoot without a thought, if it weren’t for the pony inspecting it, Spitfire’s inquisitive amber eyes flicked over the dirt-base ground of the Centre as she hoped the Weather crew was planning rain soon, the whole of Equestria was suffering. Spitfire glanced around her; the sun was beating down on her back, declaring the midst of summer.
Spitfire barley considered that none of the other Wonderbolts were here yet. That didn’t surprise her. They were never here on time, yet, somehow, Soarin’ and Fleetfoot always arrived at the exact same time. She would have happily thought that they were chilling out together, but she knew better then to think they were good enough friends to do that.
Spitfire’s gaze left the floor and drifted over to the Wall of History, as she called it, although, many others would have simply called it the wall of Fame. Spitfire’s eyes darted over all the past captains of the Wonderbolts. The first was a grey Pegasus stallion named Greywing. Greywing had kind blue eyes and a bright orange mane, he had been the founder of the areal team, Spitfire had read his biography numerous times, and apparently he had never thought the group would get so successful.
The next photo was of a white Pegasus with a lime green mane, she had purple eyes and her name was Greenfire. She was, in face, Greywing’s daughter. Spitfire’s eyes scanned photo after photo, recognising name after name. She reached the second last frame, a light blue Pegasus stallion, almost the colour of Soarin’ grinned out at the camera. His mane was the exact same colour as Fleetfoot’s. Spitfire’s eyes finally settled on the last photo, the most recent captain of the Wonderbolts. It was her. Spitfire was looking at the camera, smiling, and her eyes half closed as usual.
Spitfire turned away, “where are they? She thought, glancing over her shoulder to the entrance. “They should be here by now”
Spitfire trotted into the middle of the grounds, figuring there was no better time to start warming up than now. She began her stretches, stretching each individual limb, any pony would laugh if they saw her do this. She was incredibly flexible, possibly even too flexible, that wasn’t a good thing. Spitfire arched her back as a cat might, before standing to her full height. She glanced once again at the door. What if something had happened? What if Fleetfoot or Soarin’ needed her?
“No.” Spitfire hissed to herself. “Just start to practice. What could go wrong? If they need you one of them will come to get you.” Spitfire told herself sternly.
Spitfire took off into the air, gaining height faster than most Pegasus ponies could even dream of. The yellow Pegasus mare looked down, a sick feeling in her stomach, she had the feeling something bad would happen.
“Heh, Spitfire! Your captain of an areal team and you’re afraid of heights?” Although, she knew it wasn’t the height that was the problem. It was the move.
The team was getting ready for an upcoming performance, which was usual, of course. But this one was hard on Spitfire. Most of her routine was relatively easy, but she had one move, one move that she was scared of. She had to free fall a couple hundred feet, before spreading one wing, which pulled her out in a corkscrew. She then had to flatten herself out and rocket back up into the air. It seemed simple enough, but it took a great deal of strength, speed and control.
Spitfire frowned up at the sun. Why did it have to be so hot? She wiped sweat off her brow and once again, and flew around, just in a circle. It was a part of her routine, though simple, it turned out effective when incorporated with the rest of the team. Spitfire drew to a halt, the world spinning slightly around her, already she was dehydrated. Somehow she thought training would be cancelled.
Spitfire flew over to the side of the grounds. It was about the size of the Cloudsdale coliseum, and, likewise, was made of clouds. Hastily, Spitfire grabbed a single cloud and pulled it out of the wall, planting her backside on it. She took only a moment to rest, before leaping off the cloud. She was thirsty, to put it simply.
Spitfire frowned. Why not? She thought. She was at the perfect height to practice it, and what could happen? She could only begin to imagine….
”No” Spitfire told herself, “You’re Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts. You can do this.” Spitfire glanced over at the cloud, she’d leave it as a marker, to see how much height she had gone from, proud of herself for thinking that, Spitfire began her decent. She smirked slightly as she dropped the first hundred feet, then, as she felt as she had enough speed, spread her left wing,
Spitfire began to corkscrew with a satisfying speed. No, she was going too fast. Spitfire gasped as she tried to pull up, but she only managed to wriggle in the air. Both her wings locked into her side. Her head hurt… Spitfire again attempted to spread both her wings, but to no anvil. The ground wasn’t far from her now. A hundred feet… ninety feet… eighty feet, Spitfire felt as though her head might implode… seventy feet, spitfire groaned, giving up on making her wings work… Sixty feet… fifty feet, wait, no, WHAT? She couldn’t give up- a fall like this could kill her… forty feet, her wings refused to budge… thirty feet, why were they doing this? Twenty feet, Spitfire screamed… ten feet, it only lasted a second, her body twisted to the side in one last attempt….
*THUD*
Spitfire winced, pain shot up her whole body. For a second she gagged. The pain was blinding her… She attempted to move a hoof in front of her, but only succeeded in making the pain intensify to the point she could hold it in no longer. Spitfire, captain of the Wonderbolts and one of the best flyers in all of Equestria, drew a ragged breath. Her lungs felt like they were being squished, like they were been held like an iron fist.
“Spitfire!” The voice echoed in her head, it was coming from all directions. Spitfire painfully moved her head to the left, though the slightest movement caused agony she had never felt before.
“Don’t!”
The voice is so loud, why is it so loud? Thought a desperate Spitfire, she managed a last breath before she was plunged into darkness.
Spitfire tried to move, but felt something gently restrain her. She struggled against whatever it was, but found herself too weak.
"Shhh... It's ok, Spits."
Soarin'?
Spitfire slowly started to open her eyes. Her eyes didn't hurt too badly, they just felt like eyes feel when you haven't slept.
Whiteness. The room was purely white, except that dark blue blob swimming around he corner of her vision. Wait- room? How did she get there? Spitfire blinked, trying to make sense of the room around her. She blinked again and everything became clear.
She was in a hospital. The whiteness of the room burnt her eyes. As best as she could, the captain of the Wonderolts glanced down to see her body. Most of it was covered with a starched, white blanket, it she could see her white hoof... White? Spitfire's fur is yellow! Then it dawned on her- she was bandaged up. Why, though? She hardly ever got hurt... She became dimly aware the beeping was increasing in speed...
"Shh... Spitfire, just try to rest." Soarin's voice drifted down to her. She finally realised what the blue blob was- it was Soarin'.
"Soarin'?" Spitfire's voice was dry, it hurt her to talk. She took another breath, and tried to ask some questions. How did she get here? Why was she hurt? What happened? But instead fell in to a violent fit of coughing.
The coughing hurt, it hurt so bad. Every single one of her ribs felt like it was been hit repeatedly with a bat. Spitfire had been so distracted with the pain, she didn't even notice that she was thirsty. If fact, it'd be safe to say she was dehydrated.
"Spits..." Soarin's sympathetic voice cut through her muddled thoughts. She felt something circular press to her lips, and cool liquid gently flowed into her mouth.
Spitfire bit down on the bottle and begun drinking, faster and faster... The water felt so cool, so cool and good on her burning throat.
"Woah there, Spits! You're gonna choke if you drink too fast!" Soarin' gently pulled the bottle from Spitfire's lips.
"Soarin'? What- What happened?" Spitfire asked. Her voice was much stronger now, and it didn't hurt to talk as much.
Soarin' grimaced, and dropped Spitfire's gaze. He drew a breath and opened his mouth, as though he was going to start talking, but then, unsure of what to say, closed his mouth again.
"Soarin'? What happened?" Spitfire put more force in her words this time. She caught Soarin's gaze again, and stared into his eyes. Before he got to answer, the double doors to the room opened slowly.
A small white Pegasus mare stepped in. Fleetfoot, the youngest member of the Wonderbolts. Usually, Fleetfoot would bounce into a room, with an energy supply none of the other Wonderbolts could seem to understand. Today, however, Fleetfoot seemed the exact opposite.
Fleetfoot slowly stumbled into the room, holding a tray of sandwiches in her mouth, eyes downcast. It didn't take an idiot to realise she had just been down to get food from the cafeteria, which only made Spitfire wonder how long she had been lying in the room. What time was it? what happened?
Fleetfoot noticed Spitfire's open eyes, and stopped- it seemed like time had gone still- until Fleetfoot jumped into action. Dropping the tray, and causing the sandwiches fall apart on the floor, Fleetfoot rushed to Spitfire's side, almost unseen due to her speed.
"Spitfire! Spitfire, please tell me you're ok. We thought we lost you! Spitfire? Spitfire, please answer me!" Fleetfoot almost shouted, she was just beginning to reach out to shake Spitfire when she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Soarin' gently pulled the white mare back. Soarin' gently shook his head, and Fleetfoot instantly understood, stepping back, she spoke again. This time at a controllable volume.
"Heh, sorry Spits..."
Spitfire smiled weakly, attempting to sit up, but Soarin's was quick to restrain her. Instead, she turned her head painfully to look Fleetfoot in the eye.
"I'm fine Fleets" She muttered, wincing as a sudden surge of pain flooded her chest.
"Fleetfoot... Do you remember what I said?" Muttered Soarin', which, unfortunately immediately attracted Spitfires attention.
"What did you say? Soarin'..." Asked Spitfire, struggling once again to sit up again, but Soarin' pushed her back down.
"Spitfire... Don't move, ok? You could make everything worse... Don't say anything. You crashed... Badly. We didn't see much, just you hitting the ground. Stop trying to move. And we can't be sure-"
"But- what about-" Spitfire tried, only to be cut off once again.
"Don't stress. You should be sleeping right now..." Soarin' begun, but was almost immediately cut off by Spitfire.
"I don't care what I should be doing! Answer my question or... Or..." Spitfire trailed off, mumbling slightly, none of the other Wonderbolts had a chance to understand what she was saying. Soarin' looked sadly at Spitfire for a second, before sighing and opening his mouth again.
"You don't remember anything, do you?" He asked, careful to keep his voice calm and level, but Fleetfoot could hear it waver slightly.
Fleetfoot shifted, pressing into the warm form next to her, for the third night in a row, she was struggling to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task, no matter how she twisted and turned, she could never seem to be comfortable enough for sleep to take her.
"Fleetfoot, move again and I will personally ensure you end up in a hospital bed." The threat was light hearted, and Fleetfoot knew Soarin' wouldn't have meant it, but she got what he was trying to say.
"Sorry, Soarin'..." Fleetfoot muttered, closing her eyes again, she felt Soarin' twitch slightly, before once again becoming still. Soarin' made no effort to respond to Fleetfoot's apology.
Soarin's gentle snoring filled the room, along with the constant beeping of Spitfires heart rate monitor. This was how the last three days of both Fleetfoot's and Soarin's life had passed. Fleetfoot looked again at Spitfires comatose form- moonlight spilled over her, highlighting her bandages and her expressionless face. It was almost too much to bare.
"Soarin'? Soarin' I can't sleep..." Fleetfoot whispered, turning her head to glance at the pegasus stallion's face. I the moonlight, his features became even more chiseled that usual, each individual muscle visible in the moonlight...
Soarin's eyes opened. He glanced first at Spitfires form, then down to Fleetfoot.
"Fleetfoot... Fleetfoot... Please try to sleep... You'll need it when spitfire wakes up." Something resembling a smile flashed across Soarin's face, the first smile in three days. "Rest now..."
Fleetfoot shifted, crossing her hooves and looking back up at Soarin'.
"But... I-" Fleetfoot paused, her mouth hanging open, then she turned away. "Never mind..."
Soarin' sighed, gently "Fleetfoot- Spitfire will be fine, given time. You have to rest."
Fleetfoot felt a sudden surge of anger- she knew Spitfire would recover eventually, she knew she couldn't let her condition get in the way of something as essential as sleep- but she couldn't help it. Other than having to sleep with Soarin' on a hospital chair, she was worried about Spitfire- the two had always been close, like sisters, and seeing Spitfire in this condition-
"Fleetfoot, if you want, I can go and try to get a blanket again- Redhart might be on duty, and she's more likely to give us one than Stable was." Soarin' offered kindly, smiling gently down at the mare he almost considered his sister.
"Thanks, Soarin'" she whispered
The door creaked loudly as Soarin' exited the room, causing Fleetfoot to wince. As soon as the door clanged shut, Fleetfoot immediately turned to the one lying on the bed.
"Spitfire- I know you can't here me, but- I wanted you to-" Fleetfoot paused, already unable to continue. She reached out and brushed Spitfires tangled mane out of her closed eyes.
Spitfire didn't respond.
"Sometimes they say coma patients can hear you... And that the sound of their voice can help bring them back... I don't know if it's true, but it's worth it, even if it isn't" Fleetfoot begun, tears slowly drizzling down her face.
Fleetfoot wasn't sure if she imagined it, but Spitfire seemed to breathe deeper, but just the one breath.
"Soarin's gone to get a blanket... Because we're not leaving you. As for the upcoming-" Feetfoot stopped herself. She wasn't going to bring up the next show- because if Spitfire could hear her, and work out what she said, it might stress her even more.
Spitfire shifted her hoof, Fleetfoot was absolutely sure she didn't imagine it, she was about to reach out to Spitfire, and keep talking, as the door to the room opened, and Soarin' trotted through.
"Redhart gave us a couple... We can foot one up and use it as a pillow, and-" Only now did Soarin' realise Fleetfoot's positioning in relation to Spitfire. "Fleets..."
"She was going to wake up," Fleetfoot begun desperately, tears again coming to her eyes as she looked at Spitfires comatose form, now completely unresponsive. "She moved... She was- going to."
Fleetfoot barley managed to finish her sentence before breaking down into sobs.
"C'mon Fleets... C'mere." Soarin begun, setting up the blankets to sleep on.
Fleetfoot complied.
"Wen we wake up, I promise we'll both talk to Spitfire, I promise, okay?"
But Fleetfoot didn't respond, she was already fast asleep. Soarin' looked once again at Spitfire, worry clear on his face, then joined Fleetfoot.
