Though Applejack had tried to creep back into her house unnoticed, it seemed that was near impossible. Since his younger sister had caught a ride with Twilight instead of himself, Big Mac was more than resolved to stay up and wait for her to get back. Unfortunately, after all the commotion with Spike and Felix, she returned home much later than she had expected, or perhaps it was early in the morning. She didn't know.

Slowly, she placed her boot onto the hardwood floor just inside the front door, knowing well which boards were creaky even in the dark of the night. Evading the incriminating steps, she turned around and gently pushed the door back into place, clicking the lock as carefully as she could. She stood still for a good few seconds, listening for any noise besides the distant ticking of the kitchen clock. A sigh escaped her lips as she was relieved by the silence, and the warm breath reminded her of the tingling sensation she had felt on those same lips just moments ago. She smiled, remembering the goodnight kiss between her and Rainbow Dash, but the smile lasted no longer than another step or two into the house.

“You're late,” her brother's deep and sonorous voice stopped her dead.

Applejack sighed for a different reason, and stepped for firmly into the bronze prongs of the shoehorn her family kept by the front door. Since she was already caught, she responded promptly, “Ah know.”

“Where were you?” Big Mac asked suspiciously as he stood up out of his old chair, since he had it facing the door from the den which adjoined the foyer, and clicked on the lights.

“Ain't nothin' t' you.” Applejack kept herself facing away, reaching up and popping the edges of her collar off the crease and around her neck. When she had it like that, the fabric irritated her skin, but she didn't have much of a choice if she wanted to keep the fresh bruising from Big Mac's sight. Unfortunately, he noticed the move.

“AJ, look at me.” He walked over to her, carefully trying to peek over her shoulder as she kicked her boots to stand upright on their own by the front door. Still, she did not comply, and went to head upstairs in spite of him. He growled and grabbed her arm, stalling her as he spoke more commandingly. “Look at me!”

“Hey, lemme—!” Applejack tried to pull away, but Big Mac yanked on her arm and brought her nearer, turning her to face him.

Big Mac’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the bruising along her neck, made more obvious by the lines of blood that had not been completely wiped away yet. At first, he couldn't even find his words, and his horrified expression made him look like we was about to cry. But suddenly, his concern turned into anger as he noticed her pouting and distant expression.

“What in the hay happened t' you?!” Big Mac shouted, his voice shaking and he squeezed her by the shoulders. “Applejack, y'tell me right this second, missy!”

“It ain't no big deal, al'right?” Applejack murmured blankly, but his hand slid under her chin and tilted her head. He tried to get a better look at it, pressing his thumb against the affected marks as he turned her again. “Ouch, quit that!”

“Who did this, AJ?” Big Mac asked seriously, his eyes narrowing as a name came to his lips. “Was it Dash?”

“No, of course not!” Applejack denied firmly, swatting his hand away and meeting his gaze. She stared at him honestly, though he still seemed to not believe her. “It wasn't!”

“Was she there?” he asked more calmly, but she pursed her lips in response. She couldn't lie and say no, he would have known. So instead, she chewed at her cheek silently and looked away, which was response enough. This made Mac furious, and he turned her head to look at him seriously again as he raised his voice. “Applejack, what were y'doing with her? Ah thought Ah told you not t' go near that punk!”

“You ain't th' boss'o me,” she told him in a grumble, and he gaped at such a disrespectful response, something very unlike her.

“What happened,” he asked more directly, but went on, “What did she do?”

“Ah done told ya: nothin'! It was ma fault, she was—!” Applejack tried to explain, but found herself unable to sell Spike out as the bad guy. Instead, she kept it vague, but still true. “Ah was try'na protect her.”

“Ah knew it, Ah frick'n knew it.” He pressed his hand against his face and sighed deeply, shaking his head. He could not stand it, seeing his baby sister coming home with blood and bruises, it killed him. He looked at her between his fingers, and noticed the sad expression on the girl's face, so nervous and shameful. “Darn it, AJ. C'mere.”

He put his arms right around her and embraced her, pressing the shorter girl into his chest warmly. Though she was surprised by the action, she returned the hug readily. After all, he was her older brother, and just trying to take care of her. After stroking her blonde hair a few times and fighting off the fury that was brimming his eyes with near tears, he released her. Keeping one arm around her, he led her into the bathroom and sat her up on the counter, soaking a cloth with water.

Applejack watched her feet rock back and forth off the side of the counter carefully, folding her hands in her lap. At last, Big Mac came over to her and softly tipped her head back and to the side, running the dampened cloth along her neck and cleaning the blood off. It was uncomfortable, having him touch her somewhere like that, especially when his brutish forearms brushed against her chest. Applejack felt disgusted by such a thought, and adjusted herself so it would not happen so easily. He, on the other hand, didn't even care, as something else seemed to be on his mind.

“The blood ain't mine,” she tried to ease him with something so simple, but he said nothing in return. She swallowed, and he could feel it on his fingers as he held her still. Though he was such a large and strong man, he was being very gentle with her, as if she was delicate or fragile. Noticing this, she spoke again. “It don't hurt much 'r nothin'.”

“Ah can't watch y'do this t' yourself, you're ma little sister. It's killin' me seein' ya like this. You should never come home lookin' like this, it just shouldn't happen. Ah wanna pr'tect y'all from this.” Big Mac frowned deeply, wrinkles forming on his brow and chin. “Ah know y'think you care 'bout Dash an' all, but her draggin' ya into stuff like this, it just ain't right. It ain't.”

“Ah do care about 'er, plenty. An' it wasn't her fault, Ah'm tellin' ya,” Applejack said passionately, her resolve clear and firm. “If it meant bein' with 'er an' keepin' her safe, Ah'd take a lot worse than this—a heck of a lot worse, lemme tell you. An' Ah bet she don't feel no different.”

Big Mac stopped cleaning her for a second to look up at her, noticing the strange fire in her eyes. Applejack sure did mean all of that, and he knew it. But still, there was no way that he could bear seeing her like this, never again. He squeezed at the cloth in his hand, little drops of bloodied water sliding out over his knuckles and falling onto his sister's shirt.

“AJ, if Ah catch Rainbow Dash near you again—” His voice was steady and deep, his teeth grinding together as the last few words slipped out. “Ah'll kill 'er.”

“Mac?! You can't be serious!” Applejack sat more upright abruptly, her eyes widening in horror at the prospect. At once, her brother stood up straight and hurled the bloodied rag at the mirror, splattering it with the clear and muddied liquid, before turning right around and storming out. Applejack jumped off the counter to chase him, calling, “Mac? Mac!”

The bathroom door slammed in her face, and she jumped as it did, actually deathly scared of the man for the first time in her life. She took a moment to register what he had actually just told her, and her chest got all tight as the image of him doing something like Spike did came to her mind. Shaking her head back and forth, she stumbled backwards and caught herself on the bathroom counter, trembling from her fingers to her toes. She glanced back over her shoulder at the mirror, which had runs of slightly tinted water leaking down it, distorting the view of her own face.

“Oh no,” she pressed her hand over her eyes.

Applejack could not stand the idea of anything happening to Rainbow Dash, that was why she always stepped in, why she always warned the girl to be more careful when she was angry or obnoxious or mischievous. And now, it might be her fault that something horrible could happen to her. If these were the consequences merely for stepping into the fray, Applejack could only imagine what Spike was going to have to deal with.

Rolling in a ball seemed to be the only thing Twilight could force herself to do. It was the only thing she could think of that had worked at keeping her from having an outburst. The couch cushion squeaked as she did. Twilight ignored the liquids pooling beneath her rear; most likely her father’s drink. Night Light lost the ability to care about making a mess when he saw his adopted son hauled out in handcuffs, being read his Miranda Rights as it happened. Twilight felt a knot in her stomach and a pressure in her chest reminiscent of a bear-hug, and breathing was a far more tedious task, almost dry heaves.

“No, you have to tell me what happened!” her mother had cried out.

Twilight’s eyes jolted to the right as her mother was frantically begging a police officer for information. Twilight wished for nothing more than the courage to tell her mother what had happened, how it happened, and why it happened. Besides her own troubles and distress, Twilight was positive Rarity was an absolute wreck. She lived alone, and with nobody else present, no reason to hold back the emotions. Twilight wasn’t sure if she even wanted to go to school the next day. It just wouldn’t be the same without Spike, let alone due to all the questions she would surely be receiving.

Night Light had simply stuck to sitting in the corner, his head hung and his expression hidden. Twilight’s eyes jerked back and forth around the room. The motion made her think of a cat chasing a laser pointer. Consecutively, she pictured a little red dot and imagined herself as a cat. Even if it was utterly stupid to her and nonsensical, it was better than continuing to let the night’s events run through her head. Inevitably, the picturing of the red dot made her think of the red she had already seen earlier that night.

Twilight Sparkle began to sob once more, keeping her cries muffled like a guilty child.

Up the stairs, Shining Armour clutched the wall of his room, facing the same dilemma as his younger sister. Self-blame, utter guilt. Every single thing he said to Spike as a coach, as an older brother—as an adopted older brother, it haunted him. The thing Shining had said to Spike the first night he learned he had a new brother… who happened to look like a freak to the young Shining. Slitted pupils, more jagged teeth and a naturally spiked hair. The idea of another boy coming in and threatening young Shining’s stance as the would-be man of the house. It was trivial and stupid, and he knew Spike would never say anything about it; they were on good terms.

Shining Armour still knew it was just one part of the proverbial snowball that happened to hit them that night. Shining Armour huffed and grunted and grit his teeth in various successions as he tried to make sense of it all, tried to imagine what he could have done differently. His hands were tense, clenched into tight fists; any tighter and he’d wind up piercing his palm with his nails.

“Goddammit, I should have… I should have...” he muttered, but there was no conclusion to his what-ifs and could-bes.

Sniffling back what little mucus had built up in his nasal cavity, Shining let out an exasperated breath. He hated the breath that came from his mouth. It reminded him of a drowning individual, desperate for air, even though he felt physically fine. He knew he felt fine. Even if he hadn’t taken a breath in over a minute, he felt fine. Even with some darkness threatening to cloud his mind as his lack of oxygen got to him, he felt fine. While his younger brother did not.

Pushing himself off the wall, Shining let his arms hang loose, dangling at his sides as he stumbled backwards. Feeling his poplit hitting the edge of his bed, Shining’s legs buckled and he fell onto the bed, sucking in a sharp breath of air.

“It’s not my fault,” he mouthed, or tried to, over and over. Shaking his head, he brought himself back and thought better. If he was going to be that man he wanted to be, the man to set an example for Spike, the man who would one day uphold justice, he had to be strong. “I can’t let this get to me. But still…”

Pipsqueak tossed his bag towards the rustic nightstand by his bed and rolled onto the rickety frame holding up his pathetic excuse for a mattress. He didn’t hate his room, though; immigration cost them a lot, and sacrifices had to be made. He didn’t mind the few things he had and was considering himself rich simply from owning a phone. He had to leave soon, potentially, if the police came for him. He knew that Twilight had gotten a ride with the cop to go pick up Spike. Meanwhile, Shining Armour opted to make sure the station wagon got home, as well as drop off the others.

Three hours from the incident, Pipsqueak wanted to prolong going home if merely for sleeping in his bed. Fears of nightmares potentially entering his dreams. Sighing, he rolled onto his back as he heard his mother and father fighting about something in the kitchen. And his teammates thought his accent was thick…

Grabbing his cheap mobile, he flipped it open and went into the contacts. He pressed the down key until Dumbbell’s name was highlighted. Pressing one key, he activated multi-select and went on to select Score and Hoops’ numbers before hitting the enter button and beginning to compose a new text.

‘Trouble afoot. Spike laid a beating down on those guys bugging him before. Severe stuff. Maybe a lawsuit,’ Pipsqueak typed out, wondering if it was urgent enough to merit the correct response.

Pipsqueak glanced to the closed door after hearing a bang and his mother let out a shriek. Routinely, he dropped the phone on the floor and paced himself to the door, opening it as he stepped into the kitchen. His father was far smaller than him, yet was physically superior to his mother. The man turned his gaze to his son before glaring back at his wife.

“Don’t think that jus’ ‘cause yer fuckin’ brat came t’ save yer slutty ass you’re off th’ ‘ook,” the man barked, grumbling as he pushed past Pipsqueak.

Pipsqueak felt his arms tense as she walked by and he watched the man leave the apartment, stepping outside for another midnight walk. As the door slammed shut, Pipsqueak’s body loosened up and he felt his arms shaking. He had enough violence for the night already, and simply wanted to remove his soaked, potentially bloody clothes. He felt a damp spot on his hip where his side connected with Spike upon tackling him. He watched as his mother relaxed more and leaned against the stove before he turned around, walking back towards his room without an uttered word. She’d hardly listen anyway, she never did.

Stepping inside, he hit the send key on his phone before reaching between his bed and nightstand to fetch a charge cord. Plugging it into his outdated phone, he set it on the nightstand and closed the blinds, slipping his wet shirt off under the bed before tossing it aside, kicking his jeans off. Just before he was about to get to sleep for the night, he remembered someone else he should have texted, and went back to his phone instead.

Dumbbell checked his phone, feeling a vibration in his pocket. Pulling it out, the other two taking little notice, he saw that Pipsqueak sent it. Unlocking the phone, he navigated to his inbox. Tapping it, he read it absently before spotting the word, ‘lawsuit’. He reread it several times before rolling his eyes. He sat up on the spot, glancing around Joe’s Doughnuts before typing a response.

‘laid a beatin? we talkin couple punches or creamed the bichs?’

Dumbbell hit send and glanced back towards the platter of doughnuts. Shrugging his shoulders, he grabbed a boston cream and jammed it in his mouth, not caring how much his teeth and cheeks got coated in the slimy liquids. That night was rough, having absolutely murdered their opponents in the game.

“Suddenly you’re interested in your phone. I thought you said no fuckin’ textin’ on doughnut night,” Score prodded, swatting at Dumbbell’s phone.

Dumbbell planted the phone flat on the table while Hoops seemed interested in something outside the window. Sighing, the lead wolf wiped the chocolate icing on his sleeve before gulping the doughnut in his mouth.

“Spike beat some guys up tonight,” Dumbbell explained simply.

“Woah, for real? I thought he was too pussy for that,” Hoops wondered, his attention turning towards Dumbbell.

Dumbbell’s phone vibrated and he read the message over briefly. His brow raising briefly as he planted another boston cream in his mouth. After finishing, he glanced towards the two next to him and swallowed. His eyes shifted back down to the text as he read it out.

“‘Spike beat up several kids, broke several bones. Almost killed, I’d say. Police are en route to his house with Twi to go take him to the station, parents are gonna press charges if the kids consent’,” he read before locking his phone.

“Wait, this is serious shit!?” Score asked, his grin fading. “We roughed up our fair of pussies a million times over the years and never got a chewing out!”

“Apparently it’s a big deal now or some bullcrap. I don’t blame him though, Felix was a dick. Unlike Rainbow Crash, that fucker was intolerable,” Dumbbell went on boredly, grabbing another sweet treat and playing with the hardened icing.

“How bad?” Score asked as he took a jelly doughnut.

“Broken bones; a trip to the ER. I’d ask for a pic but I doubt they took any, but this shit means we may be out of the next game,” Dumbbell grumbled lowly, gritting his teeth.

Glancing down at the platter, Dumbbell sighed, recklessly jamming another dessert in his mouth. He seemed angry to the others; only Hoops was too reluctant to speak up.

“What’s got you all pissy?” Score grew the gall enough to take a shot at his buddy.

“Stupid idiot,” Dumbbell muttered, wondering what Spike could have done.

The door squeaked open slowly as Apple Bloom poked her head in, clutching the slab of wood tightly. Despite the fact that the room inside was pitch black and draped in hanging shadows, Apple Bloom could make out a figure on the bed. There were such small and stifled sounds that she could hardly make them out at all, but even though she was nervous about it, she stepped inside.

“Uh... Applejack?” Apple Bloom asked in a hush, glancing back out into the hallway to see if anyone else was awake, which did not seem to be the case.

“A-Apple Bloom?” a weak voice spoke back, and she could see the figure shift.

“Ah heard ya get in, er, well, Ah heard Mac yellin' somethin' awful,” the younger girl explained as she crept deeper into the darkness, leaving the door open to cast enough light to see her way around.

“Sorry, didn't mean t' wake y'all,” another terribly blank and even tone coated the shaky words.

“Did somethin' happen? Why'd y'get home s'—?” Apple Bloom stopped speaking as her eyes widened, catching a better sight of her sister.

The older blonde girl was laid out on her stomach, clutching a pillow to her face. She turned over just as quickly as Apple Bloom saw her, but she could not hide the few damp spots on the pillowcase or the bright red puffing of her eyes. She forced a welcoming smile, but Apple Bloom did not believe it for a second. Coming closer to the bed and leaning over it, she went to address the issue.

“Are y'cryin', sis'?” Apple Bloom asked gently, trying not to make it worse.

“Naw, big sisters don't cry, silly,” Applejack hurriedly forced a chuckle, but noticing Apple Blooms disbelieving frown and the way she planted her hands knowingly on her hips, she knew she had been found out. “Yea'... Ah reckon Ah am.”

“W-well, uh... wha's wrong?” Apple Bloom wondered, not knowing how to deal with a situation like this, as it had never come up before.

“Y'ain't gotta worry 'bout it sugarcube, it's ma problem,” Applejack tried to turn her away, but the young girl simply plopped herself right on the side of the bed.

“Quit babyin' me, sis',” her little sister pouted, keeping the eye contact. “What happened? An', an' what's been goin' on 'tween you an' Mac, anyway? Y'all been fightin' non stop ever since Dash left th' team; not that th' rest'a them loser's 're much different. Speakin' o' which, everyone thinks y'all had somethin' t' do with all that, did ya?”

“Well,” Applejack started as she cleared her throat and tried to wipe her eyes without her sister noticing. “It's a kinda funny story.”

“How so?” Apple Bloom tilted her head to the side, and Applejack couldn't even look at her.

“Thing is, Dash an' Ah,” Applejack glanced up, finding the endearingly innocent face of her little sister unnerving. “We, uh... well see here, we—”

“Y'all 're knockin' boots?” the younger girl guessed, and Applejack went bright red in the face.

“How'd y'know that?” Applejack asked in surprise.

“W-wait, y'really are?! Ah was right?” Apple Bloom's eyes grew wider as she realized it. “Oh ma God, you an' Dash?!”

“Well… Yea',” the blonde hung her head and bit at her lip shyly. “Is it that weird?”

“No, no, it's,” Apple Bloom tried to think of the right word, only coming up with, “Cool!”

“Cool? What's that s'posed t' mean?” Applejack flinched as she heard the word.

“Ah dunno! It's just, it's neat,” that word left no better impression on her older sister. “Even though she can be a goof ‘nd all… Ah can totally see y'all together, she always was jokin' kinda rough with ya, wasn't she? No one could push yer buttons like Dash. Darn, Scootaloo totally called it, too. Ah should'a listened t' her!”

“Yea', she did,” Applejack knew that to be true, shifting tensely on the bed. “An', uh, Mac knows too... he ended up findin' us... uh, doing stuff together th' day that Dash quit.”

“Uh oh, he knows? But, but he hates Dash!” Apple Bloom crawled forward, a concerned expression spreading across her face. “Wait... what did he find y'all doin'? Were y'all...?”

Apple Bloom's face got all serious and she pursed her lips, looking up at the roof as images floated into her head. Her face went a little redder as she imagined what the two could have been doing that would have made him so upset, though she really felt like giggling. Applejack noticed the look on her curious little face and stammered to try and distract her, steam nearly shooting out of her ears with embarrassment.

“D-don't be thinkin' 'bout that stuff!” Applejack told her, pulling her knees up to her chest as if to conceal herself from the girl's imagination. “A-anyway, he told us that if Dash didn't keep away, he'd tell on us an' get us kicked off th' team an' stuff.”

“An' tha's why she quit, ain't it?” Apple Bloom asked curiously, her expression softening as Applejack nodded. “Ah didn't think nothin' could get that punk off th' team. She must really like you, AJ.”

“A-Ah hope so,” Applejack murmured into her knees.

“Tha's why y'cryin'? 'Cause y'can't see her?” the younger sister inquired.

“No, we, uh...” Applejack grinned sheepishly to recall. “We saw each other a couple'a times after that. But, tonight, Ah was with her an' a couple o' th' other players, an' we... well, we ran into a bit o' trouble.”

“What kinda trouble?” Apple Bloom’s voice dropped more seriously.

“Y'know them hooligans that were both'rin' Spike?” Applejack asked, and her sister nodded firmly. “Well, they came 'round when he was alone, an' they got into somethin' of a fight.”

“Is Spike okay?!” Apple Bloom asked hurriedly, worried for the boy.

“Oh, y'aint gotta worry 'bout him in a fight.” Applejack chuckled lightly, though her throat was still sore when she did so. “He really did a number on 'em, Ah don't even know if they're...” Applejack faded out, not wanting to speak the word aloud. She went on a different tangent instead, “Anyway, cops 're involved, an' Ah can only hope things turn out okay for 'im from this point. We'll have t' wait 'til tomorrow t' hear from Twi about it.”

“It's that bad?” Apple Bloom's voice was soft and nervous, and she frowned deeply. “Wait, Ah don't see why Mac would get mad at y'all 'bout that... so why're y'cryin'?

“Ah might'a... Ah might'a stepped into it, try'na stop Spike an' all. Well, tryn'a stop Spike from hurting Dash, t' be honest. We found him poundin' on them boys, an' Dash an' Ah ran out t' stop 'im, but he didn't much like it.” Applejack reached up and undid the top two buttons of her collar, pulling it away from her neck and revealing the still darkening mark of wide fingers wrapped around her throat. “Ah was jus' try'na get him t' calm down, an' keep Dash outta harm's way. Turns out Ah wasn't lookin' out too carefully for m'self.”

“Spike...” Apple Bloom examined the mark closely, her lips twitching and her eyes becoming so very horrified and sad. “Spike did that t' you?”

“He wasn't himself, Ah swear on that,” Applejack quickly defended his name. “Somethin' like rage had gotten a hold o' him by th' time we got there, Ah’d never seen him s’ furious, he was like a whole different person, like a… a monster. Luckily Pipsqueak was 'round, else this could'a been a lot worse.”

“Pip was there? An'... an' he saved y'all?” Apple Bloom seemed very relieved and proud to hear such a thing, but her expression darkened just as quickly. “Then why didn't that lil' pansy text me a head's up?!”

“It was pretty chaotic out there, Ah'm still a lil' rattled by it m'self,” the older girl admitted, trying to calm her little sister down. “Ah didn't tell Mac 'bout what happened though, Ah can't sell out Spike like that, if Mac found out Spike put his hands on me... well, there'd likely be another fight. But he sorta... he shook it outta me that Dash was 'round, now he's got it up in his head that it was somehow her fault.”

“How mad is he?” Apple Bloom carefully asked, knowing how volatile his anger could be, especially about protecting the two of them. At her sister's silence, she asked again, “Applejack? How mad is he?”

“He... said he'd kill Dash, if he finds her anywhere near me again,” Applejack recited coldly, her face falling.

“What?! No way! That's so, so—he can't do that!” The younger girl seemed to have a tantrum about it, slamming her fists against the bed.

“Ah know Mac's only try'na keep me safe, but Ah can't respect them stupid wishes o' his if he ain't even gonna try t' understand me... An', an' Ah... Ah don't know what t' do!” Applejack buried her trembling fingers into her hair frantically. “There ain't no way Ah could stop seeing her, Apple Bloom. Ah just can't. It's crazy, but Ah love her. Damn it, do Ah ever love her!”

“You... y'love her?” Apple Bloom's face because so serene and adoring, just hearing those words.

“But if Ah wanna be with Dash, Ah'm gonna have to keep it a big secret again, makin' sure he ain't never gonna find us. But then again, can Ah be so selfish as t' put 'er at risk like that?” the farmer weighed her options over and over as she had been for a while now. “Ah couldn't handle it if anythin' ever happened t' her, Ah just couldn't.”

“Ah know Ah ain't very smart m'self,” her younger sister spoke up, murmuring through her pouted lips. “But Ah say, ignore Mac; screw 'im an' his dumb demands. It's his problem, if he don't like what y'doin'. But... maybe you should talk t' Dash about it. If she's anythin' like the reckless rascal Ah know 'er t' be, she ain't gonna wanna back off n' matter what.”

“Yea',” Applejack grinned a great wide grin and hugged her legs tighter, her eyelids falling down fondly as she knew such a thing to be true about the girl in question. “Thanks, Apple Bloom.”

“Don't mention it, anythin' y'need, Ah'm here,” she said through a wide smile, pointing a thumb at herself.

“Ah'll keep that in mind,” Applejack laughed lightly. “Ya'll should get off t' bed now sis'.”

“Ah know, Ah know,” the young girl hopped off her sister's bed, but looked back before leaving. “You gonna be okay?”

“Don't worry 'bout me, kiddo,” Applejack flashed another falsely confident smile, but this time, it was somewhat brighter. “Ah'll see ya t'morrow, 'kay?”

“Kay,” Apple Bloom repeated in a much more childish and cute way, smiling before pulling the bedroom door closed and leaving.

Apple Bloom crept back across the hardwood floor into her room, making sure not to run into Big Mac if he was still awake. She sure didn't want to catch the business end of his lingering anger. Making it safely into her room, she closed the door with her back and sighed in relief. It sure was a lot to take in for the young girl, suddenly learning such a thing about her sister. Not that it bothered her, though she didn't understand what it must have been about Rainbow Dash that she liked.

Apple Bloom made it over to her bed through the darkness and crawled onto it, noticing a dim light from her bedside table. Picking up her old, beaten phone, she flipped it open and waited for the screen to load. She noticed one new message, and pressed hard on the button to open it up. It was from Pipsqueak, she noticed, and she scrolled through it in interest.

'Hey Bloom, I dont want you to worry, but Spike's been in a bit of a fight. We'll talk more tomorrow. I know it's late.' the text read, and Apple Bloom frowned at it.

“Darn, he did text me,” she grumbled, losing her reason to be mad at him.

With her less than experienced fingers on the old keyboard, she typed out a response, 'I no, my sis told me sum stuff. dont sound good.'

Climbing into her bed and kicking her feet around so her pyjama pant legs wouldn't ride up her shins, she held the phone closed in her hand. It didn't take long for Pipsqueak to reply, which was odd because she knew he was usually dealing with some family matters around that time. Her phone vibrated loudly and shifted in her palm before she opened it up and found the message.

'She doing okay? She wouldn't let anyone but Dash take a look at her.' came the reply, and Apple Bloom giggled as she understood why that might have been.

'ya, she'll be fine. she's tuff like me xD.' Apple Bloom smirked, but added more, 'I hope spikes okay. he's lucky you were around.'

Apple Bloom’s phone vibrated once more, and she read it over with a simple smile, 'It's what friends are for.'

Little did the young girl know, however, that her older brother had been awake. After everything that had gone on that night, it would have taken a miracle to put him to sleep.

He shifted again in his bed from his side to his back, the sheets rustling under him. Staring up at the ceiling, he went over her distant words again and again. His two sisters hadn't been all that quiet, especially since Apple Bloom had left the door open, and he had heard nearly every word, with the exclusion of the tidbit regarding Spike.

“Stupid kid, go'n git h'self hurt,” he grumbled in a whisper, frowning and wrinkling his brow.

With another groan, Big Mac turned again, but just as quickly, he shifted once more onto his back. There was a great big knot in his stomach anyway, and he already knew what it was from. He felt guilty for being so rough with his sister. He was acting no better than Dash, pushing people around and being selfish. Big Mac usually didn't get so worked up, but there was something about the situation that had his boxers in a twist.

Placing his hand over his eyes as if the darkness created would ease him to sleep, he carefully let out a breath and tried to calm himself down. As much as he hated Rainbow Dash, he really didn't want to lose his sister to a mere disagreement. He cursed the girl's name, for putting him through something like having to interfere with his sister's—as much as he hated to use the words—dating life.

No matter how long he laid there, and he laid there for a good long time in silence, he just didn't understand it, not at all. He could not comprehend why in all of Equestria his sister would want to be with someone like Rainbow Dash; and why she would devotedly stick by her side no matter what he said to her, no matter what anyone might have said, no matter what Rainbow probably did to her. He did not want to imagine the latter. The little punk was a menace, what did she even have to offer?

Before he knew it, his legs were swinging over the side of his bed and he was shoving himself upright. His toes touched the carpet and squashed it down with each step, carrying him out his bedroom door and down the hall. He stopped completely still, however, in front of Applejack’s room, glaring at the wood that obstructed his path.

Making sure to turn the knob all the way before gently pushing the door in, Big Mac peeked in through the small gap made from the frame and observed the still darkness. Leaning in a bit farther, the only noises he could hear were faint and slow breaths, which were evenly spaced and peaceful at last. He stepped carefully into the room, leaving the door barely open for an easy escape if he happened to make any noise. Coming across the room to the girl asleep on the bed, he titled his head, watching her rest.

Even though the bruising on her neck poked out and was visible even in the dim light, she slept on so blissfully it seemed strange. He went over to the slumbering blonde, reaching out only to brush the stray hairs from in front of her face to see her more clearly. His expression softened on hers, and he bent just a bit closer to observe her. As he did, though, a flash of reflected light caught him in the eye, and he looked over at the source. It was a picture frame on her bedside table, pointed directly at her.

Having to pinch it by the frame and turn it to see it clearly, Big Mac squinted to try and make out the image. With the lights reflection, he found it still difficult to identify, and ended up picking it right up off the table. Letting it fall into his wide palm, he held it up before his eyes and managed to trace the picture at last.

It was a picture of his sister, but she wasn’t alone. As usual, that same obnoxious little brat had her arm slung around his younger sister, though the two of them were a good deal younger in the photo. He pressed his thumb hard over the rainbow-haired girl’s face, frowning at the familiarity of her unruly hair and unfitting, tattered clothing. Looking over at his sister’s young face, though, he noticed that same fond expression across her features, and noticed she was staring at the girl under his hand. He felt the need to pull his hand away to view it all again, and for a moment, he found himself comfortable with the reflective way they looked at each other. But only for a moment.

Big Mac could not hope to explain what unsettled him about Rainbow Dash, perhaps there was just too many things to name. He had to admit, she was kind of cute in a weird way, and she did seem to love to be attached to Applejack by the hand or hip. The more he looked at the two of them, the more he realized that Rainbow Dash had changed, if only a little. What irked him most though, was that he still truly did not trust Rainbow Dash. Applejack sure seemed adamant about being there for the girl no matter what, and he knew her well enough to believe that, but he knew too little about Rainbow to say for sure what she really might have wanted.

Still, Big Mac knew that he indeed had been too harsh on his sister. She was only trying to do something to make herself happy, even if that thing was... Rainbow Dash. But then again, he was only trying to make her happy too, trying to keep her safe and away from things that were unpredictable. He replaced the picture at once and turned it to face the sleeping girl, who shifted a bit to hear the small tap as the frame touched the bedside table.

Perhaps he had been too hasty to threaten Dash like he did, but Applejack needed to know how serious of an issue their relationship could turn out to be. There would be a lot more trouble opposing the two for such a lifestyle if they chose to stick with it, that would always be the case. He placed his hand on his sister's head for just a few brief seconds before trailing it down her body. Over her shoulder and arm until he removed it at her hip, he let out a slow exhale. Even though she was asleep, perhaps she could hear him.

“Y'may hafta hate me for a while, AJ,” he whispered to his younger sister, lending her a worried look and softening his hard gaze on her. “Ah'm sorry.”

He turned at once and left the girl alone in her room. He was sorry, truly, he had never intended to cause her so much grief. And though it might have seemed difficult or impossible for him to change his mind about Rainbow Dash, he resolved himself to make something of an effort.

‘Twilight, is Spikey-wikey okay? Have they said anything yet?’

‘No, the lawyer is still at the hospital. It’s at least a forty minute drive to the police station.’

‘Have you managed to speak with Spike at all since last night?’

‘No, they won’t even let mom or dad in there.’

‘Do they know I have his phone?’

‘You have Spike’s phone!?’

‘I found it broken after the fight.’

‘Oh, right.’

…

Rarity: 12 Unread Messages

Rarity stared at the phone, glancing at the inbox’s messages. She saw the previews of the final messages she had sent and felt her heart grow heavy as she read them. She only saw the first ten words before she’d have to tap a message to read the rest and she could see how frantic she had gotten in her words. Tucking the phone in between her breasts, she laid in the bed, only a loose sheet covering her body as she glanced at the larger mattress. Rarity ran her hand over the spot next to her, remembering how for several nights, Spike had slept over.

Rarity closed her eyes and remembered how happy he had been initially just to be with her, and be able to hold her. She remembered how happy she had been. And she remembered how, though she should have been the first to see it and help him with it, she barely realized that he was allowing the glory run to his head. Glory he had no idea what to do with, no idea how to keep held back.

Rarity’s phone began to vibrate, a familiar ringtone playing. She glanced at the screen and spotted Rainbow’s caller ID. It was rather unusual for her to call, so Rarity took the time to sit up and turn her light on. Propping herself up on her elbows, Rarity slid the green ringing telephone icon to the centre and held the device to her ear.

“Hello?” Rarity answered, her voice trembling initially.

“Hey, are you, like, free right now?” Rainbow spoke over the line, her voice slightly distorted.

“Oh, I suppose. You didn’t call me a skank for once, is something wrong?” Rarity asked, chuckling at the memory.

“Nothing, I just… kinda wanted to talk. Scootaloo’s tagging along with me for a bit but I wanted to ask you some shit about Spike,” Rainbow admitted without hesitation. “Well, if you want to or whatever.”

“I suppose, as long as it isn’t too personal,” Rarity agreed, shrugging as she allowed herself to slide back into a laying position.

“Well, it is you, skank. You don’t have to answer if it’s weird, but… well, do you still love Spike?” Rainbow’s voice faded, becoming quieter as she finished her question.

Rarity paused, an image of a smiling Spike glancing at her from afar as he adjusted his helmet came to her head. Several memories came into her mind: their first kiss, their date at Per Se, how he practically tore her clothes off… it came flooding in. Close to two months of memories. She held onto that hope to him speaking up for seven years. She let out a sharp wail, attempting to catch it in her throat before Rainbow heard her. Rarity rolled onto her left side, glancing at the wall that seemed so dull at the moment. Her lips quivered as her breaths came in shorter intervals, light and raspy. Rarity didn’t like when she despaired; the liquids always stained her pillows and she clenched her eyes shut as if that’d stop them.

“I do, but... it hurts. I truly realize now that I don’t know him as well as he knows me, and I feel awful about it. I don’t know how he reacts or how he’ll respond or what sets him off or what I should or shouldn’t say. I just want to kiss him, and never let him go home sad, and let him want to come to me when he’s upset, and I want to let him know that I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. I want him to hit me or do something to help him relieve his pain... yet it was too late, I didn’t help him or notice that anything was wrong, and now he’s somewhere I can’t reach.” Rarity gulped, feeling her head go light. “I had so much I should have said and done, but I was afraid or naive. I love him, yet it all fell apart so fast that I don’t even know how it happened.”

“I hear you… I kind of have the opposite issue. I think I talk too much. But I don’t know how to express myself enough to let her know how much I love her, how I love every little silly detail about her. I’m not good with words, and I can’t even convince Big Mac that I really have changed… and that I love Applejack. Yet even though I don’t know, I just take a risk and gun it. I didn’t know how Applejack would respond that night. Or, part of me did, but I didn’t know if she was going to push me off or get mad at me or anything. Well, she kind of did that stuff at first, but she came around.” Rainbow let the silence hang as if to let Rarity respond. She couldn’t; the fashionista was too busy holding in her emotions. “Honestly, I’ve just been lucky. Yet my luck ran out… because of me, I fucked the team over, I pissed off Spike, I hurt Scootaloo, Big Mac caught us; basically, my stupid mistakes finally caught up with me. I don’t know how to fix it…”

“I-I suppose,” Rarity sniffled.

Silence hung in the air once more and Rainbow’s voice squeaked as she had attempted to speak. She coughed once before erupting into laughter on her side. Coming off her fit of giggles, Rainbow spoke.

“S-sorry, my voice box is a super cunt too. Anyways… I don’t know if I say this enough, or ever, and no homo, but I love you girls. All of you. I mean, if it wasn’t for you, my lovely Applejack, and Jazz and Gala, I probably would be snorting coke off Gilda’s ass or something dank and slutty like that. I mean, I kind of take people for granted… Spike reminded me of that.” Rainbow’s voice was shaky now and then but Rarity listened to her the whole time.

“Spike did that?... Wait, Jazz and Gala?” Rarity repeated in a mumbled wonder.

“Nevermind,” Rainbow chuckled once more. “I also have a suggestion.”

“Shoot,” Rarity said, smiling as she wiped the liquids from her eyes. “Also, thanks for this, Rainbow. I kind of feel better after that.”

Silence. Rarity held the phone in front of her as she gasped, seeing that Rainbow hung up on her. She frowned, gritting her teeth as she let out a groan, pounding her fist against the bed as she let go of the phone, watching it bounce. With a single motion, she swung the blankets over her body and she rolled over onto her front, burying her face into the pillow. A vibration caught her attention once more and she realized Rainbow sent a text. She sighed, rolling over so one eye could see over the soft pillows as she retrieved her phone, opening the message.

Receiving Image…

Raising an eyebrow, Rarity waited patiently as the text processed. Her phone vibrated again as it connected and Rarity’s face flushed as she read the message below the photo, double-checking it to see if her eyes were correct.

‘Rule #1: never let Rainbow Dash near your phone ever again, k skank??? ;3’

Rarity was faced with a nude photo she had sent Spike with text superimposed with Rainbow’s cheap built-in photo app. The text merely said “Raritits” below her bosom and Rainbow cheaply scribbled a phallic image with presumably her phone’s note app. Rarity hit the lock key on her phone and scrunched up in bed. She let out a deep sigh, feeling part of her chest feel lighter.

“I won’t give up on you, Spikey-wikey,” she muttered as she gently fell asleep.

Scootaloo trailed behind Rainbow Dash obediently as the girl snickered and put her phone away, the younger girl’s eyes glued to the heels of the girl in front of her. Rainbow’s shoes must have been over three years old judging by the worn down fabric and the many patches done to them. Scootaloo tentatively glanced up as the rainbow-haired girl led her down a hallway. She briefly looked up at a sign that read Student Services.

They both stepped in and Rainbow pulled out a slip from her pocket, waving it in front of the attendant. She merely glared at Rainbow in response before considerably softening up upon laying eyes on the beat-up younger girl. Stepping into an office, Scootaloo followed suit and closed the door after briefly waiting. A woman spun around with a smile before catching sight of Rainbow and sighing heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose as she winced painfully.

“What is it this time, Rainbow Dash?” she asked curmudgeonly.

“First off, I want to apologize,” Rainbow started, her voice turning into an apologetic one for once. The woman glared at her. “Y’know, for stabbing you in the knee a few years ago. I was a punk, and I was stupid. I know you thought that trying to make me blab about shit would help, but I didn’t want to deal with anything. But I do now. It probably doesn’t matter anymore, but I wanted to say it anyways, because I really am sorry.”

The woman’s glare faded slowly and she sighed wistfully, a gentle smile appearing on her face.

“It’s fine, Rainbow Dash. People can change over time, given the chance,” the woman seemed fond of the sentiment. “Now, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

Rainbow sheepishly grinned, scratching the back of her head as her eyes wandered, the girl contemplating her words.

“Well, something I inadvertently caused because I was such a bitch back then,” Rainbow vaguely began. “I clearly wasn’t the best role model, anyone could see that. But, I want to help my… my sister, in any way I can, and I figured I’d start by seeing how she feels in a chat with you. I promise, I’ll keep all the sharp objects out of her reach and everything.”

The woman turned her eyes towards Scootaloo, the girl still hiding underneath her bangs as she rubbed one arm, eyes aimed at the wall. The elder woman didn’t say anything, staring at the girl until Scootaloo’s eyes turned towards her.

“Hi, my name is Mrs. Stable,” she told her with a smile. “I was a medicinal doctor before deciding to switch over to this field, so don’t think I’m just some shrink. What’s your name?”

“... Scootaloo,” the younger girl meekly responded.

“So, Rainbow Dash is your sister?” Mrs. Stable wondered, having never heard of such a thing before. “I can’t imagine the early years.”

“Believe me, they definitely didn’t help me in the long run,” Scootaloo responded with a chuckle while Rainbow lightly scoffed. “Hopefully, I’ve got some people who can now.”

“Here, take a seat,” Mrs. Stable said, motioning to one of four chairs in the room. Scootaloo responded by picking one closest to the corner and Mrs. Stable glanced to the older girl. “Do you want Rainbow Dash to leave?”

Scootaloo smiled again, shaking her head. “Never again.”

Rainbow couldn’t keep a grin off her face as she sat down next to the younger girl, wrapping an arm around her. She punctuated the moment with a quick noogie.

“So, is there anything you’d like to say?” Mrs. Stable asked to begin. “I’ll be the first to remind you that whatever is said here will never leave this room unless I believe you are endangering others or yourself, all right?”

Mrs. Stable handed a clipboard over with the written permissions form pinned to it. Immediately, Rainbow and Scootaloo filled it out before handing it back. The woman took a moment to look over it before pulling the form off and putting it in a folder. Scootaloo sighed deeply, resting her head on Rainbow’s shoulder as the older girl held her supportively.

“Where do I begin…?”

The schoolyard buzzed with the news the next day, as it had slowly seeped out from the Dumbbells to the rest of their crowd. None of them were too good at keeping secrets anyway, and by the end of the day, everyone had heard something of the events that transpired after the Manticore’s latest victory. Out by the bleachers, as they waited for cheer practise to begin, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom brought such a subject to light.

“Tha's what ma sister tol' me, anyway,” Apple Bloom finished explaining the situation, nodding her head firmly.

“No fair! My sister wouldn't even come out of her room this morning,” Sweetie Belle whined with a frown. “I thought she'd show up at school later, but I never saw her. I think she’s waiting to hear about what happened from Twilight.”

“That ain't the point, Sweetie Belle,” Apple Bloom tried to keep her on topic, shifting back to the important stuff. “Spike could be in a lotta trouble, an' if he's off'a th' team, we can't even play our next game.”

“Did you girl's hear?!” another frantic voice called out as a red-headed girl ran over to them, hardly managing to stop before slamming into them. Adjusting her glasses ecstatically, Twist relayed the message, “Felix and his friends are in the hospital! The official report isn't in yet, but it looks pretty bad. Word around the school is that it was the Manticore's tight end who did it!”

“Uh, a lil’ behind on th’ times as usual Twist, we're talking about that right now.” Apple Bloom scoffed and clicked her tongue.

“Who told you, Twist?” Sweetie Belle asked, furrowing her brow.

“It's all over school, how did you girls know before me?” the frizzy ginger-haired girl wondered.

“I was there,” Sweetie Belle responded with some sense of pride in it, and Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “But Scootaloo was there before any of us, I think she saw the whole thing. She was standing right there next to Spike in the fight and everything.”

“Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom perked up, having not heard that bit of information yet. “She was in the fight? Is she okay?”

“Don't worry, she didn't actually fight, she just watched it all,” Sweetie confirmed, flipping her bright curly hair.

“Well, good.” Apple Bloom yawned, folding her arms. “Lil’ thing like her probably would have gotten herself killed, Ah don't even know how she can play football with guys, being th’ size she is. Scootaloo can’t bench press f’ shit.”

“Just because she’s a girl who’s not built like a train, she can’t hold her own? We are not all made of glass, thank you,” Sweetie Belle remarked, raising an eyebrow at the larger girl.

Upon hearing some outrageously loud laughter, the girls looked back towards the end of the field to see Pinkie Pie dragging Fluttershy over to practice. She was shielding herself all the while, as she still hadn't gotten accustomed to the fitted uniforms Rarity had made for the cheer squad. The two stopped in front of the younger girls, and Pinkie clapped her hands at once.

“All right! We're here, we can start now!” Pinkie chimed as she spun around, making her ruffled shirt fly up just a bit too high.

“Look girls, right now, the team needs us to cheer better and louder than ever. With Spike and Dash both absent, we need to step up. Remember, we have a song to rehearse for halftime,” Sweetie reminded them sternly. “The next game is right around the corner and we... we suck!”

“I blame the lyrics,” Apple Bloom murmured, dully gazing over at the writer, Sweetie Belle.

“I blame global warming,” Pinkie chirped in, raising her hand.

“Oh, um, I do too,” Fluttershy agreed on that point, though she didn't really understand the relevance of the phenomenon to cheer practice.

“Ugh, just...” Sweetie slapped her forehead with a groan. “Nevermind, let’s just get working on it already.”

Apple Bloom hurried over to the rest of the team, who had already begun to gather on the opposite end of the field. With two players missing from their usual lineup, they sure did seem quite a bit smaller. In fact, Scootaloo was absent as well, though Apple Bloom knew she usually just showed up late. As she arrived, she noticed her older sister and brother talking on the sidelines, and flashed them a warm and mediating smile.

With her eyes cast low onto the clipboard, Applejack avoided talking to her brother directly, and used Shining Armour as an intermediary as much as she could. Scribbling some revisions to the planned practise, Applejack let out a slow sigh, feeling quite lonely out there as captain. They were shoes she was not too particularly eager to fill. Glancing out at the scattered players, she handed the clipboard off to Shining Armour and nodded for him to take the lead. The three of them walked out into the middle of the group, and the captain was the first to speak.

“Al'right, gather round,” Applejack called, but over the mumblings about the previous night's events and the obvious lack of respect or concern, she went mostly unheard. Hissing another, larger, breath in, she raised her voice and expelled some of her pent up frustration in a shout, “Y'all listenin'?! Ah said get over here!”

Everyone tensed up immediately as they heard her shout, and they came running over as to avoid any further chastisement. Big Mac looked down at her carefully, wondering how much more of that anger she was holding to herself. Shining Armour was the one who stepped up, though, and he addressed the whole team at once.

“What's with all the long faces?” Shining asked loudly, though he already knew. “Sure, the way you all played last night wasn't anything to be proud of.”

“Got that right,” Big Mac agreed with a grumble, but Shining Armour went on.

“But we need to stay focused. With the next game much sooner than we expected, we do not have time to be dragging our feet.” He walked around them, forcing eye contact on most of the players he faced. “I know that it will be difficult, considering we're short both Rainbow Dash and Spike now, but that's no reason to stop trying.”

“We're short Spike, too?” Big Mac piped up, not having heard the news correctly from his sister, who froze to hear it commented upon. “What 'appened t' him?”

“He, well,” Shining Armour looked over at Applejack, noticing the knowingly worrisome look on her face that warned him. Taking the hint, he kept it vague, “He got into something of a fight last night. It's serious, but I'm sure he'll be back on the field with us in no time.”

“A fight, eh?” Big Mac repeated with a huff of a laugh, casting a firm and accusing glance at the older of his sisters. “Ah reckon Ah know someone else who got int' one o' those.”

Applejack frowned and glared over at him, daring him to to speak another word. He did not seem interested in going on however, and though his voice seemed suspicious, he sounded more interested in pointing a scolding finger at his sister than connecting the events. Most of the players exchanged uncertain glances, none willing to speak up any more about what rumours they may have heard.

“Anyway,” Shining Armour spoke as he stepped back into the spotlight. “Remember guys, this is the last game before the semi-finals, if we lose here, the tournament is over for us.”

“When is the next game, exactly?” Featherweight shyly spoke up, and everyone else seemed to want to know as well, waiting on the response.

“Jus' over a week,” Applejack confirmed with a slow exhale, noticing their expressions fall doubtingly.

“Well, we're fucked.” Dumbbell simply shrugged, speaking what was on most player's minds.

“With that attitude,” an obnoxious and brash voice called out from behind Big Mac, approaching from the bleachers. Everyone turned around to identify her as she lazily stepped up. “I bet you are.”

“Dash?” Applejack reverently recited her name, her eyes gleaming at the girl without fail.

“Sup faggots?” She nodded to the team, knocking her dark black sunglasses onto her head and tugging on the collar of her cool leather jacket. Nudging the younger girl at her side, Scootaloo as it was, she spoke, “Go on, get in line short stuff.”

“What're y'doin' here, Dash?” Big Mac asked in a low voice, his eyebrows dropping down over his eyes angrily.

“Dropping off the squirt, like a responsible big sister,” Rainbow told him in a more serious voice, tilting her head as she noticed that same hostility Applejack had warned her about via text. In fact, she had warned Rainbow not to come around the football field at all until Big Mac calmed down and until the two of them could talk more directly about what was going on. But she hadn’t bothered to listen. “What's it to you?”

“Y'ain't on this team no more,” he reminded her slowly, hinting at something else hidden between the lines.

Noticing the way his crossed arms tensed up as he gripped at his forearms and biceps, Rainbow Dash seemed eager to bother him. Cocking that same old arrogant smirk of hers, she swung around before him, side-stepping right up in front of him smoothly and giving him a quick look up and down. If nothing else, the girl was ballsy.

“Ooo, come on, Mackie, we can make a little exception, can't we?” Rainbow murmured in a cutesie voice through her puffed out lips. Stepping back suddenly and backing right over to Applejack, Rainbow took hold of the new captain and pressed their bodies innocently yet teasingly close. She pulled Applejack to turn away, which she did, following obediently like she was enchanted by the crazy girl. It didn't seem to matter what anyone else thought of the display, she went on with a wink, “I just need a minute.”

“Rainbow, what're y'doin'? Didn't y'get ma text?” Applejack frantically whispered under her breath, glancing between her and Big Mac. “Be careful, will ya?”

“I just had to see you, make sure you were okay,” Rainbow whispered back, ducking her head a bit lower to try and see the damage to her neck that she had hidden by wearing a long-sleeve turtle-neck under her jersey. “He's really that mad?”

“If ya don't mind, we got a practice t' get back to,” Big Mac snapped at them, grinding his teeth together.

“That's a yes,” Rainbow snorted a stifled laugh. “Look, just... don't let these dumbasses get to you, okay? You're an awesome captain. And once we get this shit sorted out, you wont have to do it alone anymore, kay?”

“Dash, leave,” Big Mac found himself raising his voice, but the girl flashed him a glare that hardly stuck.

Shining Armour gave a perplexed gaze to his friend and lightly slapped Big Mac’s shoulder, something the co-coach ignored.

“Yeah yeah, shit Mac, relax, would you?” She rolled her eyes at him, but released Applejack, backing away in the direction she came from.

“Bye,” Applejack vacantly waved, her expression growing more solemn the farther away Rainbow went.

“Iron fist, babe.” Rainbow Dash thrust her fist into the air, but fell into a characteristic wink and extended her index and middle fingers up higher. “Though two fingers is probably enough.”

“Dash,” Big Mac repeated her name in a growl.

“I'm going!” she called back with an innocent shrug, turning around and slinging her hands into her pockets.

Applejack looked over at her brother, finding his response quite tame. After the way he had reacted the night before, this felt much too calm. He may not have been comfortable with the two of them, but he wasn't as violent as he claimed he might be. He looked over at her, too, and the siblings shared an easy silence between them. Something like understanding and apology was felt between them, but it went unspoken of.

“Well, now then,” Shining Armour cleared his throat as he looked back down at the clipboard. “Where were we?”

“So Big Mac, what the hell was with all that, anyway?” Shining Armour asked, slapping Big Mac’s shoulder roughly.

“Hmm?” Big Mac asked, glancing at Shining while sipping from a beer can.

Shining Armour tossed the bag of footballs into the shed, slamming the door as they began to walk towards Big Mac’s truck.

“That little thing with Rainbow Dash. What’s your problem?” Shining asked, slowing his walk in hopes of prolonging the conversation.

Big Mac never slowed his pace, fishing out his keys as he tossed them to Shining, since he was the sober one out of the two of them. Big Mac simply shrugged.

“She’s a punk, nothin’ more t’ it,” Big Mac responded nonchalantly.

“No, she’s rude and obnoxious, sure,” Shining argued. “Maybe not all that easy to like, but she was likeable to the team, and needed. I don’t know what the hell went down between you two, but stop dragging that shit to practise, or just—”

Big Mac stopped, twisting to the right as he grabbed Shining’s shirt. A yank brought the two of them closer and Big Mac glared at his friend.

“Stay outta other people’s affairs,” Big Mac growled in a menacing voice.

“Then keep them private.” Shining’s eyes squinted as if it’d allow some new view of Big Mac. “Whenever someone mentions the girl you get this stupid scowl on your face, and it’s been going on for a long time. Did she kill your pet cat or something? I mean, seriously, what’s the benefit for everybody when you turn into an asshole because of one girl?”

Big Mac let go of Shining Armour’s shirt, sighing heavily. Looking down at his beer, Big Mac tilted it, reading the label and information. A few shakes, he hung his head for a second and glanced into the distance.

“Ah dunno,” he bitterly admitted. “I don’t want ‘er associating with m’ sisters, Dash’s too bad mannered.”

“Whatever, it’s not my business what went down. Just suck it up, the football field is a public place and Rainbow has every right to go there. Not like she can laser her bad habits to Applejack from the bleachers. Besides, don’t you think your sister is responsible enough to make her own decisions, maybe her good habits would rub off on Rainbow. Give the kids a chance.” Shining Armour walked away, chucking Big Mac’s keys at him.

Big Mac clumsily caught the keys, dropping his beer can. It was merely his fifth after practise ended. With a confused glance, his eyes trailed up to Shining Armour.

“Ah can’t drive,” Big Mac muttered.

“I could use a walk. And you could use some time alone with your thoughts while you sober up,” Shining Armour sighed wistfully. “See you whenever.”

A pinch in his chest made Big Mac avert his eyes and he sighed, slumping towards the truck. Shining Armour had left the parking lot when Big Mac finally arrived at his passenger side door and he glanced up to the sky. It was glowing orange, shades of purple peeking through some distant clouds. Eventually, Big Mac climbed into the bed of the truck rather the passenger seat and laid out amidst the tools, using Applejack’s sports bag as a pillow. The farmer girl had opted to ‘walk home’ too.

Shining Armour had been walking for over an hour when he reached a convenience store near his house. With nothing better to do, he stumbled inside, exhausted and worn out from the past two days.

Nodding to the cashier he knew so well, he made his way to the beverages, grabbing six cans of a green coloured energy drink. On his way to the counter, he grabbed several candy crystals. Chocolate, banana and strawberry; his three favourite flavours. All of it seemed childish but part of him wanted to revert to being a teen for a minute, hyped up on energy drinks, buying sweets in bulk and being in agonizing pain for three hours.

His own problems reared their ugly heads in his mind as he contemplated his education. His grades were not the least bit ideal, and sometimes he wondered if he was even passing. The last two days had dumped quite a lot on his lap. The idea that his brother was locked in a cell or being interrogated or worse probed his mind, and he wondered what it was like for police officers to arrest bad guys. Then he wondered what it was like for police officers to arrest someone like Spike; good guys who just had a bad day. Shining Armour couldn’t imagine how those men reacted; was it just routine? Were cops indifferent to who they arrest? Then again, he knew cops were trained to respond in certain ways to certain situations; not every scenario is luxurious enough to allow understanding and trust to be built. They required action. Like his younger brother, Spike. They needed attention.

Arriving at the back of the line, Shining Armour lazily glanced to the right, spotting an old advertisement on the corkboard. Alongside the various neighbourhood events and garage sales, he spotted a few public messages. One that seemed to zero in on the very things he was thinking about.

“We need you,” Shining Armour whispered as he read the words on a Police Academy ad. It was at least six years old, faded severely like the rest of the public service messages. “Join the force.”

Shining Armour returned the beverages and candy, feeling a new energy swell within him as he practically sprinted back home. Going back to being a kid would never help him grow, would never make him a better big brother or give him motivation to study harder. But something else might.

“Son, do you know why you’re here?” the man asked.

Spike nodded his head meekly, his drowsy eyes glancing at a small half-eaten sandwich and a glass of water. The man sat down in the metal chair, glancing across at Spike. He eyed the boy intensely as if to strike intimidation yet his glare softened, replaced with a smile. Spike’s eyes remained on the food. The man pursed his lips, pulling out an object and gently placing it on the table. Eyes turning to it, Spike studied the object.

It was a small box containing a necklace; something he was planning on giving to Rarity seemingly at some point after a date. That plan went downhill fast. It was on his body at the time of the fight and he didn’t think he should care about it… yet some part of him desperately wanted it delivered to it’s recipient.

“I can’t imagine someone like you wearing this,” he said. Spike merely shrugged in response. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“I dunno,” Spike muttered, a few of his first words in hours. It was punctuated with a yawn.

“Well, I thought it was a simple question. Let me ask an easier one.” His elbows were brought up, resting on the table as he tapped his fingers together. “Do you know the identity of the boys you attacked?” Spike slowly nodded. The man studied his response for a second. “Could you tell their names?”

“I’d rather not,” Spike muttered. “I’ve done enough damage.”

“Felix Garble, Ian Cox and Matt Hill. They have names,” the man responded. “I do too. My name is Haruo. I’m not a doctor, criminal psychologist or cop. I’m here simply to talk to you.”

“So I’m not required by law to talk to you,” Spike muttered, burying his face in his arms.

“Actually, if you don’t talk to me, you lose any chance of walking out of this situation with a slap on the wrist,” Haruo said. “The punishment may as well make what happened to those three boys look like a papercut.”

“Fine, whatever, so you’re here to talk to me. Why?” Spike asked irritably, leaning back as heavy bags under his eyes sagged in an ugly manner.

“I want to know who you are. For starters, what is your last name?” Haruo probed slowly.

“I’m mononymous,” Spike told him, but noticing the odd look on the man’s face, her clarified, “I don’t have a last name.”

Haruo reached down to his side, shuffling through presumably a bag and pulled out a folder. He slapped it down next to the necklace box and Spike’s hand twitched as if to guard the box.

“Not according to this,” he started.

Spike rolled his eyes, resting the side of his head on the table top. The man didn’t seem angry at his response, merely amused.

“What’s she like? She your age?” Haruo changed the subject casually. “Your girl.”

“No. Older by two years,” Spike responded dully.

“Alright. How did you meet? Is she a friend of a sibling?” Though the line of questioning was odd, Spike actually wanted to answer the questions if it meant talking about Rarity.

“I’ve known her since I moved from Canterlot seven years ago,” Spike responded clearly.

“How is Canterlot? Do you miss it there?” Haruo asked, mimicking Spike’s actions, resting his head on the table.

Spike sat back up, the man doing the same as he chuckled. Spike averted his gaze and his lip trembled. Sniffing, he scowled briefly before sighing.

“I don’t want to go back there,” Spike muttered uneasily. “I can’t, there’s nothing for me there.”

“I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Solaris,” Haruo stated Spike’s surname, and it prompted an unexpected response.

Spike burst from his seat, standing as his muscles grew tense and he felt rage shooting up. The man seemingly shuffled back in fear yet he maintained his calm expression. Spike was preparing to leap over the table towards him… yet he didn’t. With a low growl, Spike plopped back in the chair.

“I apologize. I wanted to see your reaction, Spike. I won’t try anything like that again,” Haruo admitted easily, folding his hands on the table.

“Whatever, what’s going to happen to me?” Spike asked the question that had been burning, his voice weak and on the verge of cracking. “Do I have to run away again?”

“Let’s go for a drive,” Haruo said as he gathered his belongings.

Spike practically dove for the necklace box, something provoking him to guard it with his life. Spike pocketed the gem and grabbed the sandwich, forcing it down even if he didn’t feel hungry. He knew he was. As the man lead Spike out, an officer stopped him for a moment. Glancing down at the smaller cop, he waited as the man tugged on his handcuffs until Spike held it up in front of him. In a second, the key had unlocked both cuffs and Spike rubbed his wrists, somehow feeling alien without the restraints. Stretching for the first time in 18 hours, he staggered down the hall after Haruo. Walking out of the area, he stepped into a waiting room and, before he could react, a girl ran up to him and squeezed him tightly, immediately sobbing.

“Oh, Spike,” Twilight cried out, rubbing his back. Spike’s arms wrapped around her and Haruo stopped, turning to watch the scene. “I’m so sorry. I’m a bad friend. I should have been there for you more, I’m so sorry!”

Spike removed his arms from around Twilight as he glanced down at the girl. With a single motion, he pulled her head up by her chin and she stared into his eyes, tears flowing down her cheeks. Spike forced a smile, feeling it become more natural and genuine as his words came to mouth.

“But you’re a good sister. I didn’t think about it until now,” Spike said, gulping down a lump in his throat.

“I don’t mean to break this up, but we have somewhere to go, Spike,” Haruo told him sternly.

“Can Twilight come?” Spike immediately asked.

A brief moment of silence occurred before Haruo nodded, shrugging. “She’ll have to wait in the car, or at least the lobby of the hospital.”

Spike gulped as he realized where they were going. Twilight’s hand landed on his cheek and he glanced down, seeing a teary smile. Releasing her grip on him, Twilight skipped out the door, much to Haruo and Spike’s amusement. Spike hung his head, thinking about what would come next, wondering what he could possibly say to the boy he had wronged, as he would have to figure it out promptly.

Spike stared at the body before him. Several bandages covered his torso and his face was almost entirely bandaged up, a heart monitor beeping steadily being the only tell of life. Glancing down, Spike saw several X-ray’s depicting much internal damage; mostly bones, a few organs. Haruo wasn’t in the room, yet he was at the door, listening. Gulping, Spike looked back to Felix.

“Is… that… an… acceptable… deal…?” Felix asked between deep, heavy, pained breaths only achievable via a machine.

“You don’t bug me again and I don’t bug you. No one has to know you and your drones got bested by a loser like me, and I don’t tell them you guys ever jumped me. We leave each other alone for good,” Spike recapped their short conversation. After a moment of thought, Spike exhaled slowly as he looked to the window. “And no charges.”

“Take… it… or… leave… it,” Felix coughed out. Spike waited with bated breath. “Faggot… iguana… hah.”

Spike snorted, unable to stop a chuckle. Sighing, he turned to the wall and rested his head against it, deep in thought. Throughout the years, all seven of them, he never imagined that Felix would try to compromise with him. To try talking to him, and admitting he had done wrong. Perhaps he was just the kind of guy who found something of respect through physical confrontation, Spike was uncertain. He was certain, however, of what he had to do.

“Deal,” Spike muttered, turning around. “And… I’m sorry about everything, I’m sorry I paralyzed you.”

“Fuck off… you… are… not sorry… don’t… lie… you wanted… this,” Felix choked out, doing his best to maintain a sarcastic tone. “But I… don’t… blame… you.”

“Thanks… for, not pressing charges,” Spike murmured, and he honestly was thankful.

“Seriously… fuck off… these… are… the last… words… I’ll… say… to… you… cuntshit,” Felix grumbled, seemingly drifting off to sleep throughout the statement.

Spike turned to his left, feeling an urge to retort. His anger was gone, though. He didn’t even think he could respond to Felix, yet he stopped just short of leaving. Turning his head, he glanced at Felix’s bed one last time. Smirking, he let out a small chuckle.

“Take care, you douche bucket,” Spike muttered as he walked towards the door.

The room was dark. It was heavy. It was hot. Spike never felt more trapped before. Everything that lead to that day was in that very room. Because of himself. His past wasn’t just Felix’s fault… it was his, too. He never tried to fix it. He always looked away when offered help.

His hand wrapping around the handle, Spike pried the door open, the hallways of the hospital awaiting. Light shone through, blinding him as if he’d never seen it before. Wincing, Spike knew it was just his lack of sleep and being in a dark room getting to him. The more he opened the door, taking in the light on his face, the more he felt himself grow lighter. Stepping outside, his eyes registered the painted wall opposite from him.

Turning his head, he followed his hand as it grabbed the door handle. Feeling time slow down, he bit his lip, thinking about what was happening. Just short of closing the door, Spike’s hand slid over the handle, memorizing the texture. It wasn’t a football, it wasn’t her hand, it wasn’t the texture of his own fingers on his balled-up fist. It was a metal door, but somehow, it was more comfortable than any of those things he had felt before. Closing his eyes, he turned away and tugged once.

*click*

The door closed. Felix Garble was gone from his life. Forever. The only place left to go in the life of an oblivious, naive boy?

Up.

Author's Notes:

Yes, that did just happen. Oh, and if you were wondering, the number 6 is the number on Spike's jersey... so... yeah.

Also: News! Since we are drawing near to the end of the story (another chappy or two at this point), Arby and I figured we might find a new way to entertain you and tide you over until our next collaboration.

Namely: an Ask Blog. (askthemanticores.tumblr.com)

Yes, it's true. Now, we aren't professionals with this tumblr stuff, but do bear with us as we get it off the ground, and for more information, head on over to my FIMfiction blog! http://www.fimfiction.net/blog/265681/ask-the-manticores