Chapter Four

Apple Bloom stared at Scootaloo, head tilted and eyebrow raised. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a droning "Uhh..." came out. Scootaloo didn't look up, keeping her eyes on the book, scanning the words over and over again.

Two worlds... Barrier... Holes... Journey...

"Uh... Scoots? Equestria to Scoots. Hello?" Apple Bloom yelled, waving a hoof in front of Scootaloo's face. "Yer 'goin''? Goin' where? Why? What the hay are ya talkin' 'bout?"

Scootaloo's eyes remained glued to the book.

Apple Bloom glanced at Sweetie Belle, as if expecting her to suddenly have an answer, but she shrugged and spoke up as well, voice cracking.

"Yeah, Scoots. What are you talking about?"

Scootaloo's mouth twitched, but she didn't look up. "I'm going..." she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. We heard that. Don't make a lick of sense, though," Apple Bloom said, staring her down.

"I'm going."

Apple Bloom placed her face in her hoof and groaned. "Ya said that a million times already. What the hay ya goin' on 'bout? Where the hay are ya off ta?"

"I'm going to get Rainbow back."

The room fell silent.

"What?" Sweetie Belle collapsed onto her haunches, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"I'm going to get Rainbow back."

"Are ya serious?" Apple Bloom scoffed, earning a glare from Scootaloo. She ignored it and continued. "You're serious? You really think..." She trailed off, shaking her head and scrunching her nose. "Unbelievable," she muttered, just loud enough for Scootaloo to hear.

"Of course I'm serious!" Scootaloo's cheeks burned hot like the sun. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"Well... let's see." Apple Bloom paced around her before stopping in front of her. She tapped her chin with her hoof and glanced at the ceiling, as if its boards held the answer. "Because..." She lowered her hoof and glowered. "It'sstupid!"

Apple Bloom didn't have time to react before Scootaloo dashed forward, coming nose to nose with her. "Stupid?" Her voice shook the clubhouse. "It's not stupid!"

"Sounds pretty stupid to me," Apple Bloom scoffed. "I mean... gettin' Rainbow back? That there's crazy talk."

"No, it's not!"

Apple Bloom sighed and reached out, patting Scootaloo's shoulder. "Look, Scootaloo. I know this is hard on ya... Celestia knows it's hard for me, but..." She stared at the floor and took a shaky breath.

Scootaloo furrowed her brow. The hay? What's wrong with... A sniffle graced Scootaloo's ears. Is she... crying?

Scootaloo backed away and cleared her throat. "Uh... Apple Bloom? You all right?"

Apple Bloom wiped her face with her foreleg and cleared her throat. "I'm fine... just somethin' in my eye..." She sighed. "Scoots... this ain't easy for any of us, but... but this ain't helpin'. Ain't helpin' you, ain't helpin' me, ain't helpin' nopony."

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. "The hay are you saying?"

"I'm saying that ya need ta let this go. Hold onta Rainbow, but don't hold onta a pipe dream."

"A pipe dream?" Scootaloo snorted. "That's what you think this is?" she picked up her book, opened it to the first page, and pressed it into Apple Bloom's face. "Look here, Apple Bloom. Look at this map! Notice anything familiar?"

Apple Bloom shoved the book off her muzzle and scanned the map. She frowned. "No, b—"

"Look right here!" Scootaloo tapped the lower right corner of the page with her hoof. "You see the name? Right beside that dot?"

"Canterlot." Apple Bloom looked up and shrugged. "So?"

Scootaloo's jaw dropped. "So? So there's a chance that this could be real!"

"What's 'this?' What am I s'pposed ta be lookin' for here?"

"Here! Look here!" Scootaloo tapped near the center of the page. "That mountain right there is where the Phoenix Pool is."

"What the hay is a 'Phoenix Pool'? Sounds like a swimmin' hole."

"A swimming hole? A swimming... Really?" Scootaloo groaned and massaged her forehead with her hoof. "No, no... it's not a 'swimming hole.' It's this... well, it's basically a place where you can find... dead things and bring them back."

Apple Bloom snorted. "Sounds like a load of hogwash."

"No! this is... there's a chance." Scootaloo closed her eyes and dredged for an answer that wasn't there.

"There's a chance that Winona could sprout wings and a horn, and be named heir ta the throne, but ya don't see me spoutin' that off as fact."

"This... this is different. This is—"

"This is important ta ya... yeah, I know. But ya got—"

Scootaloo slammed her hoof against the floor. "You're damn right she's important to me! And that's why I'm going to do something about it."

Apple Bloom groaned. "Scootaloo. Quit bein' a fool. Ya—"

"Oh, cut the crap, Apple Bloom."

"Crap? What crap?" Apple Bloom's mouth curved into a disgusted frown. "Scoots, what're ya—"

"Stop acting like you care... like you're hurt. You didn't know her like I did. You—"

"Shut up!"

Scootaloo nearly fell to the floor as Apple Bloom bore down on her. She backed herself against the wall, and stared up at her enraged friend through shrunken, shaking pupils.

"You... selfish..." Apple Bloom seethed, her face reddening. "Ya think I ain't torn up 'bout Rainbow? Ya think that just 'cause I didn't worship the ground she stood on that I don't care? Haven't ya wondered why I've been goin' ta see that psychologist the last two weeks? It sure as hay ain't 'cause of no pimples."

Scootaloo stared at her hooves as she rubbed them together. "Apple Bloom... I... Look, I had no id—"

"Stop... just stop, Scoots. Ya've been a real jerk the whole time ya've been here," Apple Bloom said, head lowered and eyes set in a glower. "Honestly, I've had enough of ya at the moment." She trudged to the door, stopping briefly to give Sweetie Belle a quick pat on the back and whisper something in her ear. They exchanged nods, and Apple Bloom swiftly trotted out the door. Before descending the ramp, she turned to Scootaloo. "Ya go on ahead with yer little adventure. It ain't gonna do ya no good."

With that she turned and trotted down the ramp.

"What the hay was that all about? Can you believe her?" Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle, perplexed.

Sweetie Belle stared out the window, mind obviously elsewhere. "I..."

"Sweetie... what's wrong? You okay?"

"She's right," Sweetie Belle said flatly, refusing to make eye contact. "You need help."

Scootaloo frowned and cocked her head to the side. "Huh? What? What do you mean, 'help?'"

"You're scaring me, Scoots..."

Scootaloo laughed nervously. "How? I'm as big as you are? I... you seriously think I'm scary?"

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. "Not like that, you dodo. The way you're acting. It scares me. It's scaring all of us."

"What are you talking about?"

Sweetie Belle sighed and shook her head. "Come on, Scootaloo. You think I'm that stupid? Just an hour ago you were acting like you'd seen a ghost. You took one look at that tree and you froze up." She trotted to the front window, and stared off into the orchard. "Then you come here and just blow up in Apple Bloom's face. And... And then..." her voice shook. "Then you say you're going on some wild goose chase. It—"

"Woah, woah, woah. Wild goose chase? Sweetie... don't tell me you don't believe me either."

Sweetie Belle sighed and lowered her head, biting her lip and glancing at the floor through darting, quivering eyes. Scootaloo cleared her throat, and Sweetie Belle looked up at her, eyes misted. "I'm sorry. I want to believe you, but... I can't. I'm sorry."

"Why?"

Sweetie Belle tapped her hoof against the floor and glanced around the room. "I... I don't know why. I just can't..."

Scootaloo slammed a hoof on the floor. "Why?"

Sweetie Belle recoiled, lowering her head and trembling. "Please, Scoots. Don't be mad."

"Answer me!"

"I... I..." Sweetie Belle stammered. She lowered herself to the floor.

Scootaloo looked away, shaking her head as she scolded herself. Stop it! She didn't do a damn thing. Don't take your frustrations out on her.

Scootaloo sighed and trotted to the table. She picked up the Rainbow Dash balloon and turned it in her hoof.This isn't how she'd act... Scootaloo let out a sad sigh and placed the balloon back on the table.

"Sweetie Belle?" she called over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Sorry for yelling at you." She walked back to her friend, and sat down. Sweetie Belle glanced at her for a second, but quickly looked away. Scootaloo bit her lip but wrapped a foreleg around her. "I'm sorry," she repeated.

Sweetie Belle smiled. "It's okay."

Silence overtook them once more. Scootaloo glanced out the window and noticed that a hint of orange was starting to grow in the sky. "Wow, this late already?" she muttered. "I'd better get going."

"Yeah, same here."

Scootaloo lifted herself up and, after stretching out her cramped hind legs, trotted out the door and down the ramp, Sweetie Belle on her heels. Once they reached the bottom, Scootaloo retrieved her scooter and flapped her wings, warning her tense muscles that they'd soon be working double-time. She rode up beside Sweetie Belle. "Want a ride?"

Sweetie shook her head. "No, I'll pass."

Scootaloo giggled and leaned on the handlebars. "What? You chicken?"

"No. I'd just prefer to not break my neck."

"Oh, come on. I'm not that bad."

"Sure, whatever you say Miss 'I Only Crashed Two Times This Week.'"

"Hey, that's a personal record!"

Sweetie Belle giggled and trotted down the path, Scootaloo rolling close behind.

They were almost out of the orchard when Sweetie Belle spoke up.

"So... are you still going?"

"Huh?"

"That whole 'getting Rainbow Dash back' thing. Are you still going to do it?"

Scootaloo looked to the sky and sighed. Of course I'm still going to do it, she wanted to answer. I'm not going to change my mind and quit just like that! However, once she saw Sweetie Belle's pleading look, she brushed it aside. "Nah. It was a silly idea, anyway."

Sweetie Belle smiled. "Okay. So... you want to meet up here tomorrow?"

"Do you think Apple Bloom would let us?" Scootaloo asked, eyes locked on the path before her.

"She'll be fine. She just needs some time to cool off, like you did."

Scootaloo nodded. "Well... I'm not sure about tomorrow. How's Sunday sound?"

"Sounds fine with me."

"Great. See you then."

"All right, see you Scootaloo." Sweetie Belle waved and gaily trotted in the direction of Ponyville.

Once she was out of sight, Scootaloo sighed and rolled down the path towards home.

*N*

Scootaloo rolled down the path at a snail's pace, gaze set on the dry earth. A cool wind brushed against her back, rustling her already disheveled mane . She lifted a hoof and wiped her bangs out of her eyes for the umpteenth time. As she lowered her hoof, she caught sight of the red leaves that loosely hung from their branches as they swayed in the breeze, and she felt a smile tug at her lips.

Soon the annual Running of the Leaves would occur, and the entire path would be covered with a reddish-orange blanket. Tons of fun to ride over. Scootaloo smirked as she thought about the coming months. The Running of the Leaves was always memorable, but there were also the pumpkin muffins at Sugarcube Corner, the clouds of fallen leaves shooting out behind her scooter as she rushed over them, and the long evenings spent crusading with only the fireflies to light the way. Good times, good times.

The feelings of peace were short-lived. Scootaloo doubted that there would be much crusading this autumn. She lowered her head, rested her chin on the handlebars, and fretted.

Apple Bloom's bitter words still rang in her ears. Losing her idol was hard enough, but losing a friend over a silly argument? That was something Scootaloo doubted she'd be able to live down.

I'm going to fix this... somehow. Though the voice in her head carried a tinge of uncertainty. Normally, she would have puffed out her chest and charged at the problem headfirst, but there was something about what Apple Bloom had said, or rather, the way she had said it.

She sounded like she hated me.

Scootaloo stopped her scooter. She sounded like she really hated me. She sighed and leaned forward on the handlebars, letting the sun beat down on her troubled mind.

A squeak pierced the silence. She perked up, glancing up and down the path. Not a single soul was on the road, but the squeak filled the air once more. Curious, Scootaloo slowly rolled forward, keeping her ears and eyes open for anything suspicious.

Suddenly, there was a loud splash, and Scootaloo fell backwards, landing painfully on her haunches. She staggered to her hooves, coughing and brushing dust off her coat. She looked around and realized with a slight grimace where she was. Mumbling, she hopped on her scooter and rolled forward, and within seconds was beside a stream and staring directly Fluttershy's cottage.

Passing by Fluttershy's home was a daily routine. The only path to Scootaloo's house from Sweet Apple Acres ran right by it, but Scootaloosped past it as fast as her scooter would allow. Especially nowadays; she didn't want to risk seeing Fluttershy in the pitiful state she was surely in.

Fluttershy had changed since the incident. She had shut herself in — locking all the doors and windows — and Scootaloo hadn't seen her since. There were rumors, however. Featherweight had weaved a tale at lunch two days before, claiming that he'd seen Fluttershy standing in the pond beside her house. Not swimming or watching a family of ducks or anything. Just standing in neck-deep water. Though Scootaloo doubted the legitimacy of Featherweight's story, there was something about it that seemed believable.

The squeak pierced the air again. It seemed closer, but Scootaloo still couldn't make out where or what it was. "Probably just my imagination," she muttered, turning to ride away from the cottage as quickly as possible, and right into a large red nose.

"Nope! Just me!"

A red blob filled Scootaloo's vision, and she screamed, swinging a hoof at it as she staggered back. A foalish giggle emitted from the blob, and Scootaloo frowned.

Pinkie...

"That tickles. Do it again!" Pinkie Pie squealed.

Scootaloo shook her head and tried to catch her breath. "Jeez, Pinkie, you scared the feathers off of me. What are you..." Scootaloo tilted her head. "Uh, why are you dressed like a clown?"

Pinkie grinned, stretching the white and red paint on her face out into a rather disturbing smile. Another squeak rang out as she stepped forward. Scootaloo looked down and saw that extra-large flippers adorned each hoof.All she needs now are some balloons, Scootaloo chuckled at the thought, but stopped when she noticed two large yellow, banana-shaped ones floating behind Pinkie's frilly mane.

"Why not?" Pinkie piped up, somehow managing to smile even wider. Scootaloo groaned and placed a hoof on her scooter, spreading her wings. It's just Pinkie, her mind told her. These words of encouragement didn't calm her nerves. You don't dress like a clown and walk around just 'cause. This is strange... even by Pinkie standards.

Scootaloo cleared her throat. "So, uh... Pinkie. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just here to see Fluttershy."

"Ah..." Scootaloo slackened her guard. "How is she?"

"Fluttershy and I are having a party!"

Scootaloo's mouth fell open. "Wha... What?"

"A party," Pinkie repeated. "You know? Balloons, cake, music, games, punch, smiles, balloons..."

"I know what it is. I'm just... it's just... weird."

Pinkie blinked, still smiling. "Why? There's nothing weird about parties. Well, okay, maybe there are some weird parties. Like the mango-themed one I threw a few years ago, but besides that they're not weird at all!"

"They are when you..." Scootaloo sighed and looked away. She was tired of talking about Rainbow, but her mind kept drifting in that direction. Scootaloo turned back to Pinkie, but kept her eyes lowered. "When you just lost somepony close to you."

"Really? That's the best time to party!"

Scootaloo grunted and waved her hoof. "Yeah, yeah. 'Think of the good times,' 'celebrate her memory!' And all that stuff. Irregardless, I'm pretty sure Fluttershy's not in the partying mood. I haven't seen her outside her house recently."

"Well, you haven't been looking much, have you? She's always in town. Why, just this morning she was in Sugarcube Corner for, like, forever. Even ate five muffins. It was crazy! Then there was..."

Scootaloo receded into the less spastic comforts of her mind. Pinkie could, and would, talk for hours on end. Ignoring her was a lesson Scootaloo had learned quickly. She had learned more about the mating habits of bunnies during her sixth birthday party than she ever wanted to know.

Her head would occasionally bob in an agreeable nod, but Scootaloo kept most of her attention locked on the cottage. The very thought of Fluttershy partying at such a moment was a real head-scratcher.

Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash had been friends since about the dawn of time. The fact that such opposite ponies could tolerate each other, let alone become close friends, was sometimes difficult for Scootaloo to swallow, but Scootaloo was one to talk. Sweetie Belle had been one of her closest friends for as long as she could remember, and they had next to nothing in common.

I guess opposites do attract.

If Fluttershy and Rainbow had been as close as it seemed, Scootaloo was sure Fluttershy wouldn't want to get out of bed, let alone party. While braver than she let on, Fluttershy was still a timid and fragile mare. Scootaloo didn't even want to think about how devastated she was.

Only partying she'd be doing is drowning her sorrows.

She noticed that Pinkie was still talking, so she shifted her attention back to her.

"... And Rarity jumps up and yells, 'Not my debutante gown, you produce producing dolt!' So, Applejack stares her down, and you know what she does?"

Scootaloo shrugged, completely lost. "I don't know. What?"

"She tosses the rest of the outfit into the mud... including the headdress!" Pinkie Pie burst into a fit of laughter and fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt and clutching her stomach. "It was so funny," she managed to squeak out between gasps.

Scootaloo did her best to chuckle along, but she knew she was far from convincing. Not that her performance mattered. Pinkie's laughs were loud enough to wake the dead.

Not to mention loud enough to mask approaching hoofsteps.

"Hi, Pinkie."

Pinkie stopped laughing and sat up. Scootaloo turned her head and had to suppress a gasp.

Fluttershy stood in front of them, two songbirds perched on her back. She smiled at Pinkie Pie, chin up and back straight. Scootaloo couldn't remember a time when Fluttershy had stood taller. It was perplexing.

She didn't even notice me. Scootaloo waited for Fluttershy to glance over and throw a warm smile in her direction, but Fluttershy kept staring at Pinkie, unaware of Scootaloo's presence.

Scootaloo stared quizzically at Fluttershy and noticed a glint in her eyes. A hint of something Scootaloo couldn't put her hoof on. Desperation? Torment? Scootaloo didn't have time to find an answer before Pinkie Pie scooped Fluttershy up in a bear hug.

"Heya, 'Shy! You ready to partay?"

"Of course. I always am." Fluttershy replied without mumbling or shying away. Scootaloo narrowed her eyes, her suspicion and confusion rising with each blink.

"Well, then. Let's get this party started!" Pinkie shouted.

They broke their embrace and quickly trotted towards the cabin. Scootaloo followed as quickly as her tiny legs would allow, but the two mares had disappeared behind the cottage long before Scootaloo could reach a steady gallop. As she neared the cottage, she caught a shadow out of the corner of her eye. She stopped and peered into the woods, but whatever had been in the trees had vanished.

"Must be seeing things," Scootaloo muttered before turning and trotting towards the cottage once more.

Behind the cottage was a small table with a vase full of wildflowers and tea set resting in the center. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy sat on opposite ends of the table, chatting and sipping from their cups. Well, Fluttershy was sipping. Pinkie was downing cups of tea like they were shots of punch.

Scootaloo slowly walked up to the table, eyebrow arched, debating whether or not she should leave. She plopped down in the grass and looked up at Fluttershy quizzically. Scootaloo studied every detail of Fluttershy — eyes, posture, mouth — searching for a hint. Something smelled fishy, but the answer escaped her.

"... Mr. Cat and the Mice family have finally settled their differences." said Fluttershy.

"Great!" Pinkie blurted, downing another cup of tea.

"And Mrs. Bluejay's sore throat has finally healed up, thank Celestia. I was so worried that I'd have to find another contralto. Do you know how hard it is to find one at this time of year?"

Pinkie shrugged and shoveled three chocolate teacakes into her mouth. "I have no idea."

"Difficult. Really difficult." Fluttershy sighed and stared into her cup.

Like 'losing your best friend' difficult? Scootaloo thought. She could see through the facade — could see the hurricane brewing right below the surface — but she had no idea what to do about it. A hug may let Fluttershy release her emotions, but hugging wasn't Scootaloo's thing. Prodding her with questions wouldn't do much good either; Fluttershy would probably just shrug them off and continue chatting with Pinkie while ignoring Scootaloo completely. Still, Scootaloo felt the need to do something, so she decided to give talking a shot.

"So, umm, Fluttershy... uh, what's up?"

Surprisingly, Fluttershy looked down, giving a warm smile. "Oh, the same old stuff. Feeding the animals, having fun with my friends."

Nuh-uh, Not buyin' it. Scootaloo cleared her throat. "You sure nothing's bothering you?"

"Oh, no," Fluttershy shook her head vigorously.

Scootaloo cocked her head. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure," Fluttershy flashed a too-wide grin. "Everything's been just fine... just fine... just..." Her smile faded, and she glanced downwards, seemingly enthralled by the tablecloth. Pinkie had stopped chowing down, and now looked at Fluttershy with concern.

The sound of wood sliding on grass filled the air as Fluttershy pushed her chair back. She turned and trotted away from the table, eyes downcast and a blank expression on her face. Pinkie Pie swallowed a mouthful of cake — chasing it with the rest of the tea in the kettle — jumped up and pursued her distraught friend. Scootaloo looked on in shock as they both disappeared into the cottage, the door slamming behind them.

A chorus of voices arose within the house almost as soon as the doorframe stopped shaking. Scootaloo snuck to the window, hoping to catch the conversation.

"Fluttershy? What's wrong? Answer me!" Pinkie pleaded .

"What's wrong? What's wrong? You know what's wrong!" Fluttershy's voice cracked, not used to projecting such anger or volume.

"Please, 'Shy, don't yell at me. I... Fluttershy... you're crying."

"Of course I am," Fluttershy sniffled.

"Why?"

"Why? Why shouldn't I?"

"Because being sad won't—"

"I know! Okay, I know it won't help... I know that, it's just... Scootaloo... she... I... I can't!" Fluttershy burst into a loud series of pathetic sobs.

"Hey, now... c'mere," Pinkie said quietly, all her youthful energy vanishing as she sniffled herself.

"I... I'm barely holding it together as is, Pinkie," Fluttershy wept, her words muffled in Pinkie Pie's coat. "I can't even leave the house without seeing something that reminds me of her, and even then there are the books, and the pictures... and then there's Tank always wandering around the yard, confused and scared and... alone. And... and... then Scootaloo shows up out of the blue... and Rainbow was always... Rainbow... I... I miss her, Pinkie. I... I want her back... I want her back..." Fluttershy's voice dissolved into a series of squeaks, sobs and whimpers.

"Shh," Pinkie whispered, her voice sounding like it belonged to a completely different pony. "It's okay, Fluttershy... I do too... it's okay..." Pinkie's voice cracked, sending a chill down Scootaloo's spine. She had never heard Pinkie Pie express any emotion that wasn't jolly or one of its synonyms. To hear Pinkie's voice crack under the strain of her emotions was spine-chilling.

Scootaloo listened carefully, wondering if the conversation was going to continue. Her ear perked up at a sudden shaky inhalation, but it was followed by another series of sniffles and muffled sobs.

Scootaloo sighed and slowly walked away from the cottage, leaving the two ponies to release their emotions in peace.

Is this all I am? A problem causer? She wanted the answer to be 'no,' but all she could see was a giant, glowing 'yes.'

Her mind was elsewhere as she rounded the corner of the cottage, and she nearly ran smack into a very familiar tortoise.

"Tank?"

Scootaloo grinned, leaning down and patting him on the head. The tortoise looked at her with expressionless eyes, but the hint of a smile rested on his weathered lips Although she sometimes questioned Tank's intelligence, she could tell that he recognized her. She hadn't spent much time around him, but the times she had were interesting moments to say the least.

"Hey, dude. 'Sup?"

Tank blinked.

"Fluttershy treating you good?"

Tank blinked again.

Scootaloo looked over her shoulder and sighed. "Look, Tank... I don't know what you know or don't, or what you're going through, but... I wanna let you know that I'm going to get her back. Rainbow, that is. I know you probably miss her. I... I do too, and... that's why I'm going. Not just for me, but for you... for Fluttershy... for everypony."

Tank blinked and smiled, and Scootaloo grinned, rubbing the top of his rough head. The explanation had been more of an excuse, but Scootaloo thought it was good enough reasoning, and Tank seemed to be buying it. She chuckled and gave Tank one last pat on the shell before standing and trotting towards the path. She looked over her shoulder and saw Tank watching her. Scootaloo smiled and waved a hoof. "See you around, bud. Keep Fluttershy company... she needs it."

Tank blinked and smiled.

Scootaloo waved one last time before pushing off and speeding down the path.

*A*

Maler studied the map, squinting and rubbing his chin. "So, the sculptors will be set up on Main Street?" He placed a hoof on the wrinkled sheet of paper.

"That is correct," Rarity replied as she read over the checklist.

"And the painting booths will be on Goldwire?" he pointed to the other end.

"Mhm."

He looked up, eyes narrowed. "Aren't we being a bit unfair to the potters?"

"The potters have gotten Main the past two years. The sculptors got shoved into the botanical gardens last year. That's much too far away from their fellow artisans. It's only fair that they get the opportunity to actually show off their goods this year."

"Yes, but pottery bring in a huge profit. If we shove them into the alley, aren't we doing more harm than good?"

She laughed "I wouldn't worry about that. I have some splendid designs all set up. Extravagant, luxurious and, most importantly, valuable. We'll be able to turn a healthy profit without those lazy potters. Good heavens, Maler, for a sculptor you sure are intent on selling yourself short," she looked to the corner of the room. "Not to mention... some of those sculptures are, dare I say, your best work yet."

Maler shrugged. "I don't think any of them are in my top five."

"Well, it's not about what you think, is it? It's what is desirable, and I can guarantee that every single one of them will be purchased by the end of the fair."

"Maybe, I don't kno—" The front door opened with a squeak and closed with a slam.

Scootaloo walked into the center of the den and flopped down in a chair next to the unlit fireplace. She rested her head on the aged fabric, stared at the ceiling, and traced a crack before closing her eyes and sighing.

"Looks like somepony's home early." Maler smirked.

Scootaloo looked out the window. The sun was, once again, nearly settled below the horizon. Very funny, Dad. She stifled a rebuttal when she noticed the white unicorn peering over her father's shoulder.

"Rarity? What are you doing here? Sweetie Belle said you were at the spa... boy, she's going to be in for a surprise when she gets to the boutique." Scootaloo chuckled, but arched her eyebrow in suspicion.

Rarity's eyes widened. "Oh dear. She went back to the boutique, didn't she?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Bother..." Rarity sighed before turning to Maler. "Looks like our meeting will have to resume at a later time." With another sigh, Rarity trotted to the door, muttering something about burned fabric the whole way.

"You didn't answer my question!" Scootaloo called out. "What are you doing here?"

"Scootaloo, that is none of your business." Maler stepped in.

"No, no, she has a right to know," Rarity said, lifting a hoof and turning to Scootaloo. "I was in the area, and I remembered that I had yet to discuss the upcoming Arts Faire with your father. He and I are in charge of it as you know."

"So... you didn't go to the spa?" Scootaloo tilted her head in confusion.

"What makes you think that?" Rarity asked, briefly giving Maler a rather nervous glance.

"Well, the spa's like... on the other end of town. Not exactly in this area."

"I..." Rarity tried to reply but only a series of squeaks and murmurs came out. She briefly placed a hoof over a silver locket that was draped around her neck before looking over at Maler, eyes wide and pleading. "I... I, uh... should really be going. Um, I'll be here at around, uh, four tomorrow afternoon to finish the planning, okay?"

Maler nodded. "Sounds perfect."

Rarity smiled and quickly exited the house, forgetting to close the door behind her. Maler walked over to the doorframe, watching Rarity gallop down the path. He gave a sad sigh. "Poor girl," he muttered as he closed the door. With another sigh he turned to Scootaloo and glared. "Go to your room," he said sternly.

Scootaloo sat up, eyes wide. "What?"

"Go. To. Your. Room!"

"Why?"

"Because you were exceptionally rude to our guest. That is not acceptable. Not to mention being rude to such a close family friend. Unacceptable," Maler grunted. He shook his head and looked out the window.

Scootaloo jumped out of her chair and stamped her hoof. "Well she should stop being so secretive! What was she doing over here anyway? She's been here like everyday this week."

"She's been here to help me prepare for the arts show... as she does at this time every year."

Scootaloo shook her head. "No. No, I saw the way she looked at you. There's something else going on here."

"What goes on here is none of your concern, Töchterchen. It's adult business."

"I'm old enough to know!"

Maler chuckled. "You have no idea just how much you don't know," he whispered to himself, barely loud enough for Scootaloo to hear. Sighing, he turned away from the window, locking eyes with Scootaloo. He was no longer glaring, but his face was still set in a stern gaze. "Now, go to your room."

"But—"

"Go!" he thrust his hoof towards the stairs.

Scootaloo grunted. Tyranny! Tyranny and lies! she innerly roared as she stomped up the stairs. When she reached the top-step, she turned and glared at her father, trying to form the most menacing scowl possible. He stared back, eyes narrowed. Scootaloo snorted before trudging to her room and slamming the door.

*W*

Scootaloo awoke to sweltering heat.

Sweat poured down her face, dampening her covers and making them impossible to lift. Thunder pounded in her ears, rattling her brain, and she pushed against the weighty covers with all her might.

The thunder transformed into a voice.

"Just remember, squirt. Keep your wings moving and your wits about you."

"Rainbow!" she called out, the words echoing around the void. Scootaloo grunted and cursed — bucked and thrashed — but escape seemed to be a million kilometers out of reach. Despite the python-like grip of her sheets, she continued to fight. She was either going to escape or go down swinging.

'Quitters never win. Winners never give in.'

Then the voice filled her mind once more; the faded echo of a ghost. 'Sometimes the best way to fight back is to relinquish yourself. If your wings aren't lifting you, don't flap harder. Let the air grab your wings, not vice versa.'

Scootaloo bit her lip, closed her eyes and lightly pushed against the smothering sheets.

The covers fell off her, and through the floor.

Scootaloo hopped out of bed and looked around. A vast plane stretched out around her — dead quiet and ghostly white. It was barren, save for her bed and a small speck in the distance. Out of options, she took a deep breath and scampered off in the direction of the spot.

As she drew closer, the speck began to grow and take shape. Soon, it was no longer a blank black dot, but a towering obsidian door. Around the door's body were carved figures. Ponies were the most prominent, but Scootaloo could also make out dragons and griffons, as well as species she didn't recognize. She trembled as the monolith's shadow washed over her. Her raspy breaths fogged the brass door handle as she stared at it with quivering eyes.

"Push it. Open it," said one voice.

"Don't do it," said another.

Scootaloo asked herself what Rainbow Dash would do in this situation. It took her less than a millisecond to conclude that Rainbow Dash would barge right in without hesitation. It wasn't the smartest idea. Listening to the latter and exploring the area for better, less risky option would be the smart thing to do.

But where was the fun in that?

An unseen force pushed against Scootaloo's back, throwing her at the door. It flung open before she made contact.

Scootaloo landed hard on an oak floor. She rolled over onto her belly and gasped for air. Slowly, she raised herself up onto shaky hooves and looked around. She was standing in the hallway outside of her bedroom — or rather an imperfect replica. Everything was exactly as it should, except for one thing.

The pictures.

Her father had removed all the pictures of her mother months ago, yet they seemed to be the only ones covering the wall. Every square inch of the wall contained her mother's warm, grinning face.

Scootaloo gulped and ran towards the stairs. She tripped on the fourth step and rolled head over hooves all the way to the ground floor. The world spun around her, and she wasn't sure which way was up, but she recognized the sound.

The sound of somepony sobbing.

Loud, heartbroken wails seemed to seep through the walls. Scootaloo grinded her teeth as she searched for the source of the ungodly noise.

Her father sat on the couch, forelegs wrapped around a quivering white form. Scootaloo stood once more and tiphoofed towards her father. As she got closer, a distinctive dark-purple mane became apparent against his orange coat. It was not as curly as Scootaloo was used to it being, but that was understandable. Scootaloo was dizzied by a sudden burst of deja vu. She couldn't even make out the words being spoken between the two ponies — it was all echos and static — but the pain in the mare's voice was haunting, just as it had been the last time Scootaloo had witnessed it.

A board creaked behind Scootaloo and she whirled around. Her mother stood in the doorway, facing away from her, staring out into a black abyss.

"Mom?" Scootaloo called out. Her mother didn't respond. She simply unfurled her wings and soared out the door.

"Mom!" Scootaloo cried, chasing after her. She jumped through the doorway as well. Unfortunately, Scootaloo's wings, unlike her mother's, lacked the strength needed to stay afloat — let alone keep up. Scootaloo made it only a few meters before her muscles cramped, handing her body back over to gravity.

She fell, and fell, and fell. The descent lasted minutes... hours. Or was it a matter of days? She wasn't sure; there was no sun in the sky, and the ground wasn't growing any closer, yet she could feel the air scratching at her face and the energy being siphoned out of her body by the passing eternities.

Escape and defeat were both out of reach. She simply floated, disconnected and desperate.

"Help me!" she cried into the abyss. The abyss didn't respond.

Then she saw it. A crystal-clear prismatic figure soaring out of the shadows. The figure grew closer and more apparent.

"Dash?" Scootaloo squeaked, her voice a mere hiccup in the void.

Rainbow Dash smiled and nodded. Scootaloo sighed in relief. She was safe now. Rainbow Dash was there. Everything was perfect.

And then a roar pierced the silence.

Thunder burst a hole in the blackness, and streaks of lightning shot across the sky, illuminating it like the sun.

Rainbow Dash shattered like a glass menagerie slung against a wall, bits and pieces being torn away by the darkness.

And Scootaloo fell...

and fell...

and fell...

*W*

Scootaloo shot up in bed, mane plastered against her face by the liters of sweat that covered her entire body. She gasped for air, gaze darting around.

Darkness surrounded her.

She yelped and jumped out of her bed, landing awkwardly on the floor. For a minute she lay there, trying to keep her spooked mind at bay. The nightmare had been the same one she'd had the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that. Every night it was the same dream, and every time she woke up in the same distraught state.

Scootaloo sat up and looked around, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. She noticed that she was staring right at her bedside table — specifically, the picture that rested atop it. She sighed and placed her hoof on top of the frame, debating whether to place it face down or not. It hurt every single time she looked at it, especially right after the nightmare, yet she couldn't help but smile, and feel encouraged.

There's a chance...

Scootaloo sighed and looked out her window. It was a beautiful night — a cloudless night.

Perfect night for an adventure.

She snuck over to her saddlebags in the corner, moving slowly so she wouldn't wake her father with a creaking floorboard. She opened it carefully, and pulled out any items she deemed 'useless'. These useless items were mostly textbooks and other school-related material, although there were a few comic books and an untouched candy bar that she was very reluctant to toss aside.

By the time she was done, only Daring Do and the Phoenix Pool remained. Scootaloo yawned and walked over to her closet. Inside were some of the bare necessities: a sleeping bag, a canteen, a first aid kit and a compass among other things. Through diligent effort and a little bit of fabric-cutting, she was able to stuff the items into her saddlebags. She scooted under the strap and stood, lifting the bags with her. They were extremely heavy. She could barely take two steps without breaking a sweat. However, Scootaloo looked at the labor as a principle. If she wanted to get something, truly wanted to get something, she would have to work her feathers off — labor the brink of death — to earn it. That's what she'd always been told, and that was the belief she held.

Without the help of another pony the saddlebags couldn't be tightened, but Scootaloo didn't mind. As long as they were on her back, they were tight enough. She still needed to grab a few more materials anyway. Then she'd be off.

Right before she opened her door, she reached over and grabbed the picture of Rainbow Dash off her nightstand. She smiled melancholically, and slipped the photo into the side pocket of her saddlebags. Then she grabbed Rainbow's old flight goggles and slipped them over her head. Scootaloo looked at herself in the mirror, smirking at the sight of her new necklace. Now this is jewelry I can handle.

Once she was certain that the photo was secure, and the that the goggles were not too tight, she opened the door. She looked up and down the hallway, checking to see if the coast was clear. Finding no sign of life, Scootaloo tiphoofed out of her room and towards the stairs.

Maler had fallen asleep at his workbench; an all too common occurrence in the weeks leading up to the Arts Faire. Normally Scootaloo would have woken her father up — sleeping while slumped over a table wasn't doing his back any favors — but waking him up was the one thing she did not want to do at the moment. His coin bag was laid out on the table, probably tossed there carelessly when he had begun to work, and Scootaloo needed the extra bits for supplies. Although the very idea of stealing from her father made her sick to her stomach, desperate times called for desperate measures. If a stain on her soul would erase the pain in her chest, then Scootaloo was more than willing to get her hooves dirty.

Scootaloo carefully leaned over the table, mouth open and ready to grab the bag. She could feel her father's breath on her face as Maler snored heavily, and she held her own, scared to death that a single exhale would cause her mane to brush against his muzzle. Millimeter by millimeter she moved forward, heart racing a little bit faster with each movement. She could taste leather on her tongue and she eased her mouth shut, grasping the pouch between her incisors. Her back popped as she retreated, and she froze, terrified eyes fixed on her father. Maler stirred slightly, snorting obnoxiously, but remained asleep.

Scootaloo waited until she was out of the studio before she breathed.

She opened the bag and slowly plopped the bits on the kitchen table — coin by coin — and counted them. There were twenty-four bits total, so Scootaloo took twelve; a fifty-fifty split seemed fair enough. She dumped the bits in her saddlebags, and placed the rest into the coin pouch. Scootaloo then tiphoofed over to the pantry and pulled out what little food she could fit into her saddlebag. Some berries, three apples, a couple of carrots and a single potato. Any other food she needed she could get from a merchant. The path to the Phoenix Pool may have been off the beaten path, but it couldn't be that desolate. She was bound to come across at least the occasional village or farmstead.

Scootaloo checked her bag, smiling in satisfaction. The basics were all there. All set. Scootaloo slung the saddlebags over her back once more. Due to their weight, she would have to leave her scooter behind. It annoyed her — the scooter would make travel ten times easier and quicker — but it was little more than a minor inconvenience. Once she got a good pace going, she was sure she'd have Rainbow Dash and be back in Ponyville by recess on Monday.

She crept out of the kitchen, and across the living room, stalling at the front door. The house was dark and quiet. Scootaloo hated leaving her father like this, but... what she was setting off to do would make it all worthwhile in the end.

Right?

"See you later," she whispered in a voice that she could barely hear herself. Blinking away the nervous tears that had welled up, she opened the door and walked out. At the end of the path, she turned back and waved goodbye to her house. She knew that nothing would see the wave, but it made leaving slightly easier to take.

Then, with a loud sigh, she turned and marched away from her home.

*A*

An odd glow illuminated the headstones. It wasn't eerie or frightening, but something about it made Scootaloo's legs shake.

She slowly moved around the weathered granite stones, eyes locked on the ground so she was sure she wasn't stepping on any memorial wreaths or stuffed animals. She felt numb as she passed grave after grave. Death was one of the sad inevitabilities of life, and that made Ponyville Cemetery all the more discomforting. The idea that she could be talking to somepony one minute, then watch them take their last breath the next, disturbed Scootaloo to no end.

The only solace she could find was that very few names were familiar, and most of those ponies had passed due to natural causes after a long, happy life.

This peace was immediately erased by the unweathered, elaborately decorated grave at the top of the highest hill in the graveyard, nestled directly below a large oak tree.

Objects of all sorts had been set out in front of the grave. Flowers, photographs, a silver locket, a ratty copy ofDaring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone and so on. There was even one of Pinkie Pie's famous quadruple-chocolate-chunk cupcakes leaning against the slab — although, due to birds, squirrels and the weather, it barely resembled a cupcake anymore.

Scootaloo sat down in front of the grave and stared directly at the rainbow lightning bolt that had been delicately painted on the front of it. Her breath shook, but she kept her emotions at bay.

Don't cry. Once you get done with all this, you won't even need to cry.

Still, she couldn't help but whimper as she placed a hoof on an earthy hump in the ground. She sighed and patted the mound.

"Sorry I haven't been here yet, Rainbow." Scootaloo paused, waiting for a response she knew wouldn't come. The only sound on the hill were gusts of wind and crickets chirping amongst the neatly trimmed grass. She swallowed heavily before continuing. "I guess... I guess I have trouble facing the facts sometimes," she chuckled to herself. "Although you probably already knew that..." Scootaloo sniffled and wiped her eyes, a sad smile stretching across her face.

"Things have been a bit crazy lazy. Everypony's been acting really weird. Understandable, of course," Scootaloo mumbled, scratching the back of her head.

What the hay am I supposed to talk about here? The weather? Everyday life? Her being gone? Ugh, this is hard. She sighed for what felt like the hundredth, and she kicked at the dirt while searching the sky for answers.

Finding no solution in the stars, Scootaloo picked 'everyday life,' and began to speak, stumbling over her words. "Uh... the weather patrol's been pretty ineffective... I guess that's to be expected. It's hard to replace the... the greatest flier... well, ever. Umm, Rarity and Twilight have been closing up shop earlier and earlier, and Applejack and Fluttershy have been steering clear of town altogether... can't say I blame 'em. Pinkie's still Pinkie though... little bit on the fragile side, but she's probably handling... you being... gone better than anypony else," Scootaloo chuckled. "Heh, the world could be ending and Pinkie Pie would still be trying to get everypony to smile." Scootaloo paused and briefly glanced at the goggles draped around her neck, a heavy lump forming in her throat. "And... and I'm... I... I..."

I can't do this.

Scootaloo rose to her hooves, turning from the grave and looking over the valley. She couldn't force herself to talk directly to Rainbow in such a way. To do so would make her look like she was giving in. No, this site was but a motel; a brief stop for Rainbow to rest her weary bones. Scootaloo was sure that, in a few days, the grave would be unneeded — the items strewn before it, pointless — and Rainbow Dash would be back where she belonged. Scootaloo had faith, and that was enough.

That had to be enough.

"I'm going to fix this," Scootaloo whispered, her words lost behind a sudden gust of wind. "I'll get you back, and I'll fix this."

Without turning to look at the grave, Scootaloo began to make her way towards the exit. She'd have plenty of time to talk to Rainbow in the future. Words, apologies and tears could all be spilt at another time, to a far more alive face.

Scootaloo pushed the iron gate open, flinching as the loud squeak pierced her ears. She looked to her left and right, and saw that the path was clear. Although she doubted anyone would be out at such an hour, she felt it was best to best to be sure. Her father could wake at any time and, after going up to her room to apologize or simply check on her, discover that her bed was empty.

Confident that the coast was clear, Scootaloo trudged down the path. At a fork in the road, she reached into her saddlebags and pulled out Daring Do and the Phoenix Pool. She opened the book to the map, studying the page as best she could in the moonlight.

A route through Canterlot was the quickest option, and also the easiest. Scootaloo looked up at the Ponyville clock tower and noted that the time was eleven forty-five. A train — used mainly to transport ponies who worked the graveyard shift — departed from Ponyville's train station every night at midnight. Smiling at her luck, Scootaloo shoved the book back into her saddlebags, and galloped towards the station.

As she made her way into town, she stole a glance upwards. The skies were clear and the moon was bright.

Perfect! Absolutely perfect! A grin tugged at her lips. The great unknown beckoned her and she was all too eager to comply.

Scootaloo began to lower her gaze, halting when she caught a flash out of the corner of her eye. She stared at the vacant spot in the sky for a few seconds before shaking her head and continuing towards the train station.

Still, the image kept sneaking into her mind.

The image of a grey rainbow streaking across the sky.

*L*

A/N: Okay, so... updating at a steady pace isn't my forte. I have an I-Write-Whenever-I-Want-And-Am-a-Lazy-Dick personality. I've never liked this procrastinatory side of me, and thought that I'd be able to avoid it when it comes to fanfiction, but as my updating schedule (or lack thereof) has shown, this side is just as prominent as ever.

I plan on changing this part of me, however. I have scheduled a deadline for chapter updates. A new chapter every two weeks (i.e chapter 5 will be released on July 9th, if not earlier).

So, anyway. Thanks for reading. Hopefully the speedy updates will help me reach a broader audience on .