It was a beautiful night in Cloudsdale. The skies were crystal clear and littered with countless stars, planets, and constellations. Many Pegasi had taken advantage of the pristine weather and gone stargazing but now, as the moon began to sink from the top of the sky, almost all the ponies in Cloudsdale had gone to bed.

Almost everypony.

"Let me sleep…please."

Soarin rolled around on his bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. It was a bland, pale blue color and dotted with microscopic cracks. Pearl columns rose from the floor and formed a pathway from the foot of the bed to the door. Moonlight shone in from the small window above the bed, casting a pale white glow on to his face.

Soarin slowly turned his head to the left and instinctively covered his eyes with his hooves; his eyes were blinded by the gleaming light of an alarm clock. The digits blinked several times, causing the room to be briefly illuminated. He continued to observe the blinking digits and edged closer to the clock. Every time the digits flashed, it felt like the striking of a gong;

2:30

Soarin extended his neck towards the alarm, but he over-extended and fell face flat on the floor.

2:30

He began to get up, but one of his legs gave out and he fell to the floor once again.

2:31

After several attempts, Soarin got back on his hooves and wobbled over to a closed door on the far left side of the room. He pushed the door open with his head; it was a small room, containing only a sink, bathtub, and mirror. Soarin stood up in front of the mirror and looked himself over from top to bottom.

His mane was a mess; half of it drooped over his face while the other half was spiky and haphazard. His coat was much paler than normal and rough to the touch. He looked down at the patterned linoleum. It was made up of black and white diamonds, with miniature crevasses separating the two colors. Soarin began to fall over, but he caught himself and tore his gaze away from the floor. When he returned to normal height, he was confronted by a disheveled stallion.

2:32

The stallion looked exactly like him, cutie mark and all. The one thing that separated the two was their eyes. The other pony's eyelids blinked rapidly. Dark lines had formed beneath his eyes, and the iris of the eye itself seemed out of whack. Soarin raised his hoof and the other pony did the same. He reached his front leg forward and their hooves met halfway through the air.

"Do I really look like that?" Soarin said to himself. He backed away from the mirror and stumbled into his bedroom. The walls were covered with Wonderbolts memorabilia. Newspaper articles, posters, tickets, all sorts of things were present. He walked over to one of the newspapers and read it aloud. "On Wednesday, the Wonderbolts will be accepting their newest members; Soarin, 23, and Spitfire, 25, of Cloudsdale…"

3:15

"…The Wonderbolts will be performing at the Grand Galloping Gala from 5 P.M. to 7:30 P.M."

Soarin vigorously nodded his head. "Yes sir, we did that…" He slumped against the wall and yawned. "Now, for some sleep!" The Pegasus shut his eyes and laid his head on the cloud floor.

3:30

After several minutes of tossing and turning, Soarin got up and pouted over to the bathroom sink and slammed his head against the mirror.

"Why…"

A small collection of cracks had formed in the center of the mirror.

"Can't…"

He bashed his head against the mirror a second time, leaving a small cut on his forehead.

"I…"

Soarin crashed against the mirror once again, causing it to shatter. Shards landed all over him, from his nose all the way to his tail. He fell forward onto the sink.

"…Sleep."

Soarin slowly lifted his head off the sink and hobbled towards the door. His bedroom was pulsating with a neon green color. He heard the sounding of a loud bell and pressed his hooves against his ears. "Make it stop!"

3:50

He lied on the floor for several minutes, watching the green light flicker on and off. A muffled shout came from downstairs, followed by repeated knocking.

"Soarin?"

Soarin crawled over to the stairs and grabbed the railing as he slid down the stairs step by step. He slipped mid-way down and tumbled the rest of the way, landing at the bottom in a jumbled mess.

"Soarin? Soarin, are you there?"

Soarin started to untangle his legs and cleared his throat. "Come in."

Spitfire pushed the front door open and trotted in. She was wearing her goggles, but the rest of the Wonderbolt's uniform was absent. "I was wondering if you were ever going to answ—Soarin!"

Spitfire gasped and rushed over to her friend. "What happened?" Soarin stood up and tried to walk towards the stairs, but his legs gave out. "Nothing" he muttered. Spitfire cocked her head. "Something must've happened!" She slid her wing under his belly and helped him up. Soarin reached his hoof over her back for support. "I'm fine, see?" He gave a wide, toothy smile. "Then why are you covered with blood?" Spitfire gasped. Soarin looked at his left hoof; several shards had cut into it and little streams of blood flowed from the wounds. He looked down at the floor and saw small blood droplets scattered from where he was standing all the way up the stairs. His eyes widened as he realized what he had done. "I need…" he sniveled. "I need help."

Spitfire helped him over to the kitchen and brought over a wet rag. She began to wash all of the blood off of his coat. Soarin flinched as the rag pressed against the glass fragments. "What are you doing here at this time of night?" Spitfire threw out the blood-soaked rag and searched for another one. "Uh, Soarin, it's four o' clock in the morning. Where are your towels?" Soarin weakly pointed towards a door under the stairs. "In the closet." He looked around his kitchen. Even though he came down here every day, it seemed alien. Everything looked as though it was a mile above him. Spitfire draped the towel over Soarin's back and lied down next to him. "Soarin, what is going on?" He began to pick the glass out of his skin. "I can't sleep." She pushed his hoof away from his head. "You shouldn't do that." Soarin let his head hang down. "I don't care…" he muttered. Spitfire leaned in closer. "What was that?"

"I said I don't care!" he yelled. Soarin limped away from the shocked Wonderbolt and up the stairs. The light in his room still flashed, although it was less prominent than before. He clambered up onto his bed and stared at a poster of the Wonderbolts on the wall. "I can't do this anymore." He rolled onto his side and stared at the clock.

4:15

"Would you stop?" Soarin shoved the clock off its stand, tearing its power cord. The flashing stopped and he let out a sigh of relief. His relaxing was abruptly interrupted when Spitfire knocked on the door.

"Hey." She said as she climbed up onto the bed. Soarin became red in the face and edged away from her. He turned towards her and began to cry. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't me—" Soarin stopped as she put her hoof around his shoulder. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it." Soarin wiped the tears way from his eyes. "I just don't know what to do." He looked at Spitfire and she motion for him to go on. "I haven't been able to get much sleep for the past few days. I've been late to practice, messing up our routines AT practice; I'm an all around mess." Spitfire looked at the trail of blood that led from the bathroom to the stairs. "What's with the blood? Did you try t—" "No!" Soarin interjected. "I did not try to kill myself!" Soarin sheepishly slid under the blankets. "Sorry." Spitfire gestured towards the wall. "Forget it. I didn't ask it in the right way; go on." Soarin popped out and took a deep breath. "I went into the bathroom because I didn't know what to do. I was frustrated so I bashed my head against the mirror until it broke into pieces." He held up his cut-up hoof towards her and she blinked rapidly. "Wow; we need to get you to a doctor tomorrow."

The room was completely silent for several minutes. Neither Pegasus spoke; they just lied there, staring at the ceiling. Spitfire chuckled "You know, I haven't gotten much sleep either. That's why I was out, trying to tire myself." Soarin continued to look about the room. He moved his head to turn towards Spitfire several times, but he never fully completed it. Finally, he turned to face her. "Would you mind…?" Soarin began to feel nervous. "Yes?" Spitfire smiled, causing him to become even more nervous. "…Staying with me tonight? N-n-not in that way! I just need some…company." She reached over and patted his mane playfully. "C'mon, Soarin. We've been friends since we were foals. Sleeping over isn't a big deal." He pulled out his pillow and fluffed it. "Well, yeah, it's just that now we're older and…I didn't know what you'd think." Soarin placed his pillow and carefully laid his head so it wouldn't put much pressure on the cuts. "Hey, Spitfire?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he whispered. "You know, for everything."

"Anytime."

Soarin looked up and closed his eyes. Within five minutes, both Pegasi were fast asleep.


Deceptive description is deceptive( in my opinion, anyway)

Normally, someone would look over this more closely. I wanted to really get something out there, so I edited it myself. I'm sure there are plenty of lay/lie mistakes and PoV issues, so I'll edit the chapter of the next few days and purge it of mistakes.

What Spitfire did to treat Soarin's wounds probably isn't the right thing to do, but oh well; in a world where ponies can travel faster than the speed of sound and pull 90 degree turns at the same time, anything is possible!

I have noticed a lack of non-romantic fanfics starring Soarin; this grave error must be corrected.

This story was inspired by Soarin's 'tired eyes' at the Gala.

I don't want to set a definite date for the next chapter, but it'll probably be up by at least two weeks. Stay tuned. The title may change(because I'm bad at titles and descriptions), so look for my name as well as the story.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review!