“Babs!” the principle shouted.

The filly got out of the chair in front of the office and walked through the door. Babs went to the chair in front of his desk and climbed onto it, before leaning backwards and crossing her forelegs. She flicked her tail to an indecent position, making the principle grimace.

“‘Sup old man?” Babs asked.

“Babs, please. You know what is ‘up’. Furthermore, that’s Mr. Pencil to you,” he stated.

“Alright, Mr. Pencil.”

He sighed and leaned over to look more closely at her. “Taffy says you’re bullying her again. She said you’ve taken her lunch money for over a month, and threatened to—” he cleared his throat, “—’fuck her up’ if she snitched.”

“Hah! You know they bully me. I had to go to Ponyville to cool off, remember? I’m the victim here. She’s just mad because I keep askin’ her to give me back all the money they stole from me.”

Golden Pencil opened up the large folder in front of him. It contained Babs’ permanent record. He glanced down through the summary of her history at the school.

- Delinquency

- Truancy

- Fights - III

- Arson - I

- Theft - II

. . .

“Look, frankly you’ve got a long list of minor offenses. Usually, you’re stopped before doing something you’d regret, and you always have a well-thought out excuse how it isn’t your fault. Do you want to know what I think?”

“I really don’t,” Babs spat.

“I think that black eye wasn’t from Taffy like you said it was. I think the reason you picked a fight today over lunch money, the reason you punched her today was to cover up the real source of that black eye.”

Babs was about to insult his mother but froze, wondering if he could read her that easily. Indeed, it had not been Taffy that gave her this black eye.

Babs wasn’t looking forward to heading home later that day. School passed quickly and soon she had no choice but to head back to the place she was given a black eye: her home. The door shut behind her as she entered the house.

Babs went to her room, laid on her bed, and started reading her book. The sparsely decorated room had little more than a dresser, desk, and bed. When her father didn’t come home it meant he’d passed out at the bar, or gone home with another mare. Somehow he hadn’t drowned in vomit yet. When he did come home, he made his frustration known.

The front door slammed shut, causing Babs’ wall to vibrate. Her father was home now, and like almost every night, he would be drunk. At this point he’d either go have rough sex with her mother, or come beat Babs. She wasn’t a fool—Babs knew exactly what her father was, and where she fit in the grand scheme of things.

And she did not accept it. Babs was better than him, smarter, destined for bigger and better things. Babs was also shorter, much weaker, and would soon hit puberty. What would her father do when Babs went into heat, and her odor permeated throughout the house?

She did not want to find out.

The door to her room flew open, and Babs jumped off the bed and crawled under it. The effort was as futile as always. Once her father had dragged her out from under the bed, Babs surrendered. She didn’t raise her hoof in defense as he smacked her jaw. Her mind retreated and shielded itself with a well-practiced numbness to emotion.

Pain, joy, anger, sorrow, peace—they were all meaningless to Babs, who struggled to understand why she couldn’t feel them, why she had to fake them around other ponies.

Her father hit her harder than normal, and the stench of his inebriation nearly made Babs vomit. Her jaw was so sore she wondered if she would be able to speak tomorrow morning.

“S-stop! Come to b-bed h-honey!” Mother said.

“Shfuckin’ whorshe! Shoe’ll get yurs!” Father slurred.

“I w-won’t let y-you hurt h-her! The principle—he s-saw that s-shiner you g-gave her! He’ll c-call the c-cops if s-she shows up to s-s-school like that tomorrow!”

Father lowered his raised hoof to the ground and turned around slowly, nearly falling over while trying to keep his balance. “Shu called thish copsh on me?”

“N-no!”

He took a few uneasy steps towards her. “Shue called the copsh!”

“H-honey, c-calm down—”

A siren sounded outside in the distance, slowly growing louder. In Manehatten, they used carts with sirens to ensure they could cut through the bustle of city life and reach crime scenes quickly.

“Shu did!” Father reared up to slam his hooves on her, losing his balance and toppling to the floor. While he got back to his feet, Mother just stood in the doorway, frozen and mortified.

Babs took the opportunity to get up and walk over to her mother. She squeezed herself between her mom and the dresser. The sirens were so loud now, and the red lights had lit up her room as they spun around.

“Mom didn’t call the cops. I did,” Babs said.

Scootaloo tugged on the string and tied it into a knot. Her tail was now covered in fake rainbow hair. With her prismatic wig on, Scootaloo had become an orange Rainbow Dash. She ran downstairs, passing by her parents.

“Off to the fan club?” Roseluck asked.

“Yeah, Mom. But first, Dash promised to show me a few new moves,” Scootaloo explained.

“Be safe, darling,” Nimbus added.

“Okay, Dad, I won’t do anything Dash wouldn’t do. Bye!”

She rushed outside and was about to hop on her scooter when Scootaloo remembered what Dash had told her: “You need to practice proper flying technique. No more scooter until our lessons are done. Fly low, even if you’re just flapping and walking, you need to learn to flap slowly.”

Scootaloo left the scooter and went to the edge of her yard. She climbed onto the fence and looked around, imagining that the dirt road was now lava. Her wings unfurled and beat slowly in the air. Nothing to it, Scootaloo. Let’s be awesome!

With a large flap, she took to the air and flew to the nearest bench, fifty feet away. She was only a few meters off the ground, but for Scootaloo it was as different as night was from day. Soon, Dash would let Scootaloo fly from even greater heights.

After landing on the bench, Scootaloo glanced at a nearby bed of daisies. She didn’t see the owner of the garden anywhere, so Scootaloo ate several of them quickly. Big Mac was walking by and shot her an accusing glance, to which she smiled innocently. With another flap she soared towards a fencepost further down the road.

Scootaloo tried to land on it, but her hoof slipped and she tumbled into the grass. It hadn’t hurt her wings, so after dusting some loose blades of grass off she climbed on the fence to start over. Okay, so the grass is totally not lava, just the dirt!

Just as she leapt into the air to fly to the fountain in town square, Dash landed with a thud in front of her. Scootaloo’s wings folded in from the shock, and she landed in the dirt on her muzzle.

Whelp, I guess I lose. She got to her hooves and spit some of the dirt out of her mouth. “Dash! I was flying like you said, you totally made me fall though.”

“Sorry, Squirt. So how was your sleepover with Apple Bloom?” Dash asked.

“Boring, but I think she feels better. I was really sad about her dog, and she just seemed distant. But we’re not here to talk about that, I want to be just like you and I need to learn how to fly higher and do some stunts!”

Rainbow chuckled and mussed up Scootaloo’s hair. “Alright. Why don’t you walk with me towards the field we use to practice.”

“Uh, sure.” She slid up against Dash as they walked, staying close enough that their sides brushed against each other with every step.

“I told everypony in class today about that stunt you did for me, the Buccaneer Blaze. I told them you’d teach it to me and I’d do a private stunt show.”

“That’s great, what did your friends say?”

Scootaloo frowned. “Well, most of them were excited but Diamond Tiara said I’d always be a flightless chicken.” What she didn’t mention was how her and Silver Spoon would put glue on Scootaloo’s chair in class. If she forgot to double-check her chair in the morning, her feathers would get stuck to it.

She had lost several of her primaries this week from Diamond’s pranks. Cheerilee had promised to suspend Diamond and Silver for a week if it happened one more time. In response they had backed off, for now.

“Squirt, I wanted to talk to you about something important.” Dash gestured at a park bench that was slowly approaching. Once they reached it they both took a seat. “You remember my application to the Wonderbolts?”

“Of course! You did that crazy Sonic Rainboom in a thunder storm. My hair was frizzy for weeks!”

Dash smiled and put a wing around her, pulling her in close. “You don’t know how much I’ll miss having such a great fan.”

Scootaloo’s mind screeched to a halt, and she pushed herself away. “Miss? Why would you miss me? Are you leaving me?”

“No! I got accepted to the Wonderbolts, that’s great news! It means I have to spend most of my time training in Cloudsdale, though. I might only be able to visit Ponyville on weekends, or even once a month, but I’m not leaving you!”

Emotions started to well up inside Scootaloo. Part of her knew Dash wouldn’t leave, and yet Dash was going to leave. Everypony always left Scootaloo. “Y-you are gonna a-abandon me like my mother. Please, you can’t do it! I’ll move in with you, in Cloudsdale!”

Dash held Scootaloo against her side, letting the filly cry gently into her fur. Rose had warned her that this would happen. “Listen, Squirt, you’re my sister and I love you more then you know. I will never abandon you like your mother. If she hadn’t put you up for adoption at birth, you wouldn’t have two wonderful adoptive parents, and you’d never have met me. You should be happy.”

Scootaloo dug her hooves under Dash’s ribs, holding onto her tightly. “B-but y-your still l-leaving, I w-won’t s-see you.”

“Hey, I promise I’ll visit every chance I can, and give you free tickets to every single show. And while I’m gone, you’ll have the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They’re your friends too, and they will never abandon you either.”

She was slowly calming down as she listened to Dash’s heartbeat. Her warmth and soft fur, her confidence and loyalty—Scootaloo often wished with all her heart that Dash had been the one to adopt her. She was perfect, and Scootaloo couldn’t imagine life without her.

“P-Pinkie promise?” Scootaloo asked.

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” Dash replied. “Now, you ready for some flying?”

Scootaloo thought about it for a moment. “No, I feel kinda sleepy. Can I take a quick nap? Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Sure, Squirt, I’ll let you take a little nap here with me until the sun sets.”

She edged herself closer to Dash, watching as her fake wig and Dash’s real rainbow mane mixed together. Scootaloo nuzzled under her wing, causing her to wrap the wing tightly around her.

Scootaloo felt happy, safe, and as if nothing in the world could go wrong. She fell asleep in the warm embrace of the stunt pony who had promised to keep Scootaloo under her wing.

“What?” Babs’ mother said. She looked down at her daughter. “H-honey, you c-called the cops? You shouldn’t h-have! You’ll m-make him m-mad.”

“Mad? It’sh too latesh for mad, I’m shfuckin’ pished!” He swung a hoof, slamming it against his wife’s skull. She managed to stay on her feet, slamming against the wall, and sobbing softly as her ears rang.

There was a pounding at the front door. “Manehatten police, open up!”

“Babs,” her mother whimpered. “A-apologize to d-daddy.”

“No, Mother. You’re pathetic. I’ll never be weak like you.” Babs reached underneath her dresser, gripping something. “I’m just like Father, and I never want to see either of you again.” She reached up to her mother’s neck with a knife in hoof, slicing it open in one clean stroke.

Mother fell to the floor, clutching her neck in shock, as warm fluid spilled out. Babs tossed the knife down and backed up, being sure not to get the spreading pool of blood on her hooves.

Her father was still standing there in a drunken stupor as the pieces slowly clicked together in his brain. His beloved wife, his property had been taken to him by his bitch of a daughter.

Yet instead of anger, her father felt grief for the first time in years. This had been his fault. I’m just like father. The words echoed in his ears. He stumbled forward and slipped in the blood, wrapping his hooves around his wife.

She was still gurgling on the blood, and her husband held a hoof against her neck. He couldn’t stop the flow of the blood no matter how hard he tried. She looked at him, uttering one final word as her eyes glossed over.

“Babs.”

There was a loud cracking noise as the police rammed the front door open. Splinters of wood scattered across the living room and they rushed in, night sticks drawn and ready.

The first police pony skidded to a halt when he reached the door to the bedroom, his eyes drawn to the crimson tide seeping through the doorway. A stallion lay in a puddle of blood beside his wife, a knife not two feet away. He could smell the liquor from here, then noticed the filly in the corner of the room.

Babs had curled up in the far corner, putting on her best act. “D-don’t l-let d-daddy kill m-me too!” she wailed. As she began to cry she curled up tighter until her muscles trembled as if in fear.

“Whasht? No, she killsh her!” he slurred. He tried to stand up but was too drunk to do so on the slippery floor. In seconds he had tumbled towards the officer.

“Freeze!” The police pony yelled, his wits finally returning to him. “You’re under arrest!”

Several more ponies rushed in, forcing him back from his wife. He struggled and flailed wildly, and it took several ponies to get him into hoof cuffs. By the time it was done, the crime scene was trampled and the police were just as covered in blood.

Babs peaked out from the spot she had chosen in the far corner, her eyes locking with those of her father. She smirked as her father started gagging while two ponies buried hooves into his back to keep him pinned.

I win, she mouthed.

Author's Notes:

v1.1
+Edited by The11thWonder