One day, you'll get it right...
...and I will be so proud of you.
Sweetie Belle's eyes shot open, and she woke with a start, thrown back into the second floor room she was sharing with her big sister, Rarity. Her heart pounded and her head swam with the memories from her dream. So vivid...so...so real. The place and circumstances of her dream were still with her. She was still there, in that funeral home, staring down into that casket...
She tried to shake the thoughts from her head, focusing instead on the here and now. She stared out at the opulent bedroom, trying to place herself back into the apartment above the dress shop where her sister lived, her sister who was alive and well and certainly not lying in a casket...
She felt a surge of sadness well up at the thought, threatening to escape as a deafening, anguished cry. She forced it down as her face screwed up and her eyes burned. She was here. She was here...
She was strong.
She was strong...
No she wasn't.
Leaping from her fold-out bed, she galloped full-force across the room towards her sister's bed, jumping up onto it and burying her way under the covers. Rarity was there. Rarity was there.
...
Rarity was jolted awake as a cacophony of bedsprings and shuffling fabric met her ears. Peeling off her eyemask and setting it on the nightstand, she shook sleep from her eyes to find Sweetie Belle scrabbling her way into her arms, burrowing her muzzle into Rarity's chest and shaking with what Rarity guessed were tears.
True to her guess, a wail sounded from around Rarity's middle, muffled by her fur but nonetheless heart wrenching in its utter and sincere grief. The filly shook with sobs and nuzzled her way deeper into her arms, still crying hysterically.
"Sweetie Belle," Rarity asked, confused, "Dear, why, whatever is the matter?"
The sound of her voice seemed to calm Sweetie for a split second, before she broke into a chorus of renewed sobs once more.
Rarity pushed on, "Did you...have a bad dream?"
She felt Sweetie nod her head slightly, before looking up at her with wide, sad eyes brimming with yet more unshed tears.
"...y..y...ye..s.." she choked out, before latching onto her sister once more.
A few more minutes of coaxing got her to reveal the details of her dream. "...Y...You died and...a...and I made a...d...dress...s...for your fu..funeral and...and..."
Unable to continue, she resumed crying once again. Rarity renewed her hug, now slightly confused.
"I...died? Oh Sweetie, it's alright. I'm perfectly fine. I'm right here and I'm perfectly fine."
Sweetie Belle continued. "I...remembered all the things you taught me, all about...p..patience and...precision and...diligence. And then you weren't there. You died and...I...made your funeral dress and...I remembered you said you were proud of me."
Sweetie looked up at her sister, her tearstained face shimmering in the darkness of the moonlit room. "You are?"
"W...of course I am," Rarity replied, taken aback at the question, "How could I not be, you're my sister. I will always be proud of you. I will always and am always proud of you. Nothing could ever change that."
Sweetie Belle smiled tearfully, before laying her head against Rarity once more.
"Oh Sweetie...everything's going to be all right. I'm right here, okay?" Rarity whispered, wrapping her forelegs around her. Sweetie still hitched with sobs, evidently still haunted by her dream. Rarity stroked her sister's light pink and purple mane with her hoof, nuzzling the top of her head, trying with all her might to hug the tears, the fear, away, to communicate her presence, her healthy, loving presence, with every stroke of her hoof, with every squeeze and shift of their embrace.
Eventually Sweetie's cries subsided, and Rarity spoke, "How about you stay up here for the night, hmm?"
A nod, relief and gratitude seeming to come in waves from the filly in her arms, and down they settled, Rarity pulling the covers over them both once more. Sweetie never relinquished her grip on her sister, snuggling up under her chin, lulled into a serene calm by her sister's heartbeat and the soft breaths ghosting through her mane. Rarity nuzzled Sweetie once more before whispering into the night a familiar, comforting tune, one they both knew well and one that Rarity had often sung to her sister in the past.
"Hush now, quiet now
It's time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
It's time to go to bed..."
And thus, all was well once more.
...
A/N Not sure how it turned out as I wrote this late at night. I may revise this in the future but for now, here's version 1.0.
Edit: Version 2.0, with added dialogue to further flesh out the story.