Her bed was left unmade, which by any normal standards would seem entirely common. But that morning, it haunted Applejack. She was accustomed to waking up finding her lazy-headed room-mate still fast asleep in the mountainous folds of her blanket, but that day, not even her pyjamas were left in her wake. It was eerie to have silence in the morning, and Applejack had trouble even moving herself from the desolate bedside at all as she stared into the cold wrinkles of sheets to where Rainbow Dash once lay.

The cascading morning sun often served to ignite some naïve motivation inside the blonde girl, but not that day. It reminded her that she would have to go to school, she would have to answer more accusatory questions—which usually she had grown accustomed to, but now she had no one to back her up, no one to look over at and share the same cynical thought about ignorance or juvenile behaviour. Lost as to where her lovable room-mate had vanished to, Applejack merely stared at the receding shadows of the window bars across the vacant sheets. Now, the creeping, yellow sunbeams gave her an uneasy turn in her stomach, a sense of unrest, of anxiety, of fear.

At once, Applejack turned on her heel and marched to her night stand, removing her folded up dress shirt and making room for it on her body by removing her sleeping shirt. The soft, thin fabric was replaced by the tight, ironed-still folds of conformity, and she folded her collar over the noose-like pre-tied tie that Rainbow would usually tease her about in that curmudgeonly raspy morning-voice she had. With an annoyed growl in the back of her throat, Applejack pulled on her pleated skirt and shifted it around her hips until she had it fitting just right. At last, she hardly bothered to pull up her knee-socks to the exact same symmetrical height before stepping into her holey shoes, snatching her blazer and book-bag off the bedpost and storming out the door.

With eyes that never strayed from the end of the hall, besides a quick sweep to scan for any familiar or guilty faces, Applejack strode through the common area and ducked into the stairwell. Glancing out the window to the dew-covered, sparkling soccer field, but finding no more evidence of her missing room-mate, Applejack continued to descend. She could not imagine what would have possessed the young girl to go out in her pyjamas—Applejack knew this because her uniform dress clothes had been left in their usual half-folded disarray while her sleepwear was absent—in broad daylight, without a word to her.

Making quick stops at the gymnasium, library, and the girl's first period classroom, Applejack hurried along to the Headmistresses office in haste. Though often the disciplinarian, the Headmistresses sister Luna, would better know a delinquent like Rainbow Dash's whereabouts, Applejack was determined to go right to the top of the ladder to find out. Catching the woman in the middle of a sip of fresh-brewed Earl Grey tea, Applejack nearly booted her office door right open as she barged in unannounced, something very unlike her.

“Where's ma room-mate?” Applejack demanded to know immediately, but from the surprised and annoyed look on her Headmistress's face, she knew she should have chosen a more diplomatic approach.

“I beg your pardon, Applejack?” Headmistress Celestia wondered in a perplexed tone, placing her pure white tea cup down on a little matching plate. “I know it's early, but where have your manners gone?”

“I'm sorry, Headmistress, but I really gotta know what happened t' my room-mate. Rainbow Dash, y'know her? She ain't in her bed, an' I know she ain't the most popular girl around, s' needless t' say I'm a little concerned.” her student explained more carefully, stepping further into the office and narrowing the wide open doorway behind her.

“Your concern will never rest, putting it on a girl like Dash,” Celesia murmured mostly to herself, but blew a cool breath on her tea before actually responding. “She's fine, Applejack. She came to me last night and requested my help.”

“You... your help?” Applejack repeated in an uncertain tone.

“Yes, while she intended to ask our Lord for forgiveness, it seems, she decided it would be best to allow me to do my due diligence to try and save her.” the older woman prattled on casually, sweetening her tea with a tip of a spoon.

“She don't need savin',” the blonde girl mumbled, crooking her mouth into a thoughtful frown.

“We have resources at this institution that could help change her attitude and perspective, so I intend to use them to her fullest advantage,” the woman went on to explain, and Applejack scoffed to hear anything about Rainbow's advantage when discussing something that seemed so very political. “Worry not, Applejack, she's in the best of care and will be returning promptly. Until then, you wouldn't mind gathering her assignments from her professors or taking some extra notes for her, would you?”

After cautiously staring at the woman before her, Applejack seemed to agree, “I s'pose.”

“Suppose, dear,” her Headmistress corrected, and Applejack felt like sucking her teeth irritably. “Thank you, you are most helpful. Now do get along to class, you cannot keep allowing Rainbow Dash to drag you down.”

She ain't, or Don't talk 'bout her like that, Applejack was about to say, but she stopped herself. Instead, she knew best when to hold her tongue and simply let it slide, reciting, “Yes, ma'am.”

“Brilliant. Dismissed.” The Headmistress dismissed her with the wave of her hand.

With an obedient and respectful bow, Applejack took her leave at once. Though she had indeed received answers, she was quite aware that nothing the Headmistress had said had made her feel any better at all. She was still worried, especially since Rainbow Dash had not even bothered to tell her any of it. Applejack had thought that the two of them were close friends, close enough to have shared any indecision or major choices, but perhaps that was some misplaced trust.

For the time being, she supposed, she should do what the Headmistress told her, to go to class. She knew better than to blindly doubt those who took care of them, those who supposedly did the work of God. Besides, she had plenty to do, be it studying or taking notes or gathering Rainbow's assignments for her classes.

Rainbow Dash herself, however, had very little to do. She had been made to wait in the counsellor’s office for hours. The Headmistress had some duties to attend to before she could get to the girl's therapy, such as contacting her parents and writing up waivers and liability statements. Besides, she would have to send her most faithful student into the bowels of the institution, particularly the old storage rooms and boilers rooms, to seek adequate tools. At last though, the counsellor’s office door creaked open, and Rainbow Dash looked up from her poor-postured seat on the old sofa.

“Finally. I've only been waiting for bleeding hours.” Rainbow Dash growled irritably, scratching her messy hair and glaring at the older woman.

“Watch your mouth,” she replied immediately, not in the mood for Rainbow's brash and obnoxious behaviour. Gathering the girl's files, she ushered her to move, “Now hurry along, we should get started.”

“Sooner the better,” the young girl agreed, getting to her feet immediately and stretching her arms above her head.

“Right this way.” Celestia led her along.

The halls were vacant, and not just because all the girls were in class. That part of the administration building was always quiet, especially since they had to pass through the nursing wing as well. Rainbow was rather unsettled the farther they went, as she had never been that deep into the building. Passing prohibited areas was usually exciting for the girl, but now it made her uneasy. A bright yellow sign hung above her head, warning her to go no further, but she did not heed it.

“Uh, where're we going, exactly?” Rainbow found herself asking at last as the Headmistress unlocked a door that led to a dark stone stairwell, and Rainbow shuddered to imagine what lay beyond.

“We need a room without too much light, as you'll be watching slides for part of the treatment.” Celestia started vaguely.

“Slides? I do enjoy a good slide show,” Rainbow played along, though her eyes ventured across the old, cracking foundation.

“Besides, we can't have you being interrupted,” came an addition, and it sounded somehow ominous, but again, Rainbow did not listen to her gut as she often did. “This area was originally a detainment area, and at one point, part of the school itself. It's partially underground, however, and has flooded in the past.”

“It just sells itself,” Rainbow murmured lowly, raising her eyebrow as she examined the water damaged walls and the furnace vents.

At last, they came to an old metal door, which did not have a lock, but took something of a shove to get open. Rainbow did the task herself, and found herself face to face with a small, isolated room. There was a small window along the rear wall, but it was barred and covered in some burlap to keep the light out. The lights on the roof flickered a bit, and illuminated some kind of long stretcher and two spectator seats. There was also a projector in the far corner, which seemed aimed at the blank wall to her left. The whole scene made her skin crawl, even if it was just an old basement in a Catholic all-girls school. She was never one to let her fears get the better of her, and swallowed the lump in her throat at once.

“Twilight Sparkle, did you have any trouble finding the slides or tools?” the Headmistress asked the other person in the room, who Rainbow had hardly even noticed as she was loading the projector.

“No, madam, but I haven't rolled the machine in yet.” Twilight responded as she finished organizing everything around the projector and walked over to a table that held several medical tools and such. She read some names aloud, “Insulin, metrazol, cardiazol. Just in case.”

“I'm sure it won't be necessary.” The Headmistress turned back towards her patient, holding out a neatly folded gown of some sort, pale in colour. “Dash, please put this on.”

“No one said I had to look like a dolt for this,” the young girl remarked, but noticing the look on the older woman's face, she agreed. “Fine, fine.”

“Thank you,” she thanked graciously, and Rainbow just shrugged as she turned around and began changing. Twilight Sparkle was too busy to even look up, as she was still going over a check-list on a clipboard she held up to her chest. Celestia, however, had something to say, “You've made the right choice, by seeking help.”

“I'm not quite sold on it yet.” Rainbow replied as she slipped the shirt over her head, tying a loose string around her waist before removing her pyjama pants and discarding them sloppily on the floor.

“I know you are afraid, but there is more to fear by remaining sinful.” her Headmistress tried to calm her, going through her file and taking out some necessary sheets.

“By whose standards?” the subject asked with a snarky tone, frowning.

“Would you rather spend your whole life being angry with God, having God angry with you?” Headmistress Celestia asked, though it was rhetorical. “Would you prefer to be judged, condemned, and trapped with your sinful desires? You'll hurt those nearest to you, Rainbow Dash.”

It seemed true, at the moment. The way that Rainbow Dash had been staring at her loyal and loving room-mate, it wasn't fair. She was afraid, afraid of hurting Applejack or being someone unworthy of her friendship.

“Besides, Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God?” Twilight Sparkle spoke up, and both of the others looked over at her. “Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. Corinthians 6:9-10.”

“Excellent passage, Twilight Sparkle.” Headmistress Celestia praised, and Rainbow snorted to hear it.

“Yeah, a regular Sally Soapbox, over here,” came her irritable grumble.

“Dash, do be polite, Twilight is my assistant, you'll want to be on her good side,” the older woman told her, and a sharp tone in her voice reminded Rainbow Dash to perhaps listen.

“That sounds like a threat.” Rainbow prodded carefully, meeting the woman's eyes as she was guided over to the long, raised cot.

“Friendly warning.” Celestia brushed the subject off, patting the seat for Rainbow to hop up.

Doing as she was silently requested, Rainbow Dash jumped up onto the edge of the cot and lazily kicked her feet back and forth over the side. She felt more than uncomfortable in such weird garb, but she had complained enough already. As she carefully watched her two stand-in nurses set everything up, she decided to do what she did best and talk some more.

“Why are you trying to fix me, anyway? Is there something so wrong with me you need to go through all this trouble?” Rainbow pondered, trying to catch her Headmistress's eye-line for answers.

“Rainbow Dash, you are a vile deviation,” came a very blunt statement, and Rainbow's jaw hit the floor. “This must be amended. If you ever want anyone to accept you or conceive you to be a valuable person, you must know that you have to become someone of value.”

“...Someone... of value?” Rainbow sadly repeated.

“Homosexuality is a perversion of the divine and natural law, as God gave us the gift of sexuality and pleasures to be used to populate his Earth. The purpose of sex is to reproduce, and clearly, homosexuals sinfully use sex to attain merely pleasure, a selfish deed.” Celestia explained, and Rainbow felt guilty and awful to know that she was exactly who they were talking about. “Your desires, Rainbow Dash, are not themselves sinful, as every man and woman is subject and slave to his or her desires, which often cannot be controlled. But to encourage them or act upon these desires? That is a sin. One that we are here to save you from.”

“So... what are you going to do to me?” she curiously asked, pressing her clenched palms onto her cold knees.

“Conversion therapy,” came the simple answer, from Twilight Sparkle. “Seeking to change sexual orientation through various treatments.”

“Is ambiguity one of them?” Rainbow Dash retorted with a playful smirk, but her jests were unwelcome.

“Must you always make jokes?” Twilight snapped back with a scrunched up expression, and Rainbow seemed pleased to have pushed her buttons.

“In Genesis 19, two angels descend to the city of Sodom in disguise, and were taken in by Lot. You know the story, yes?” the older woman began.

“I may have dozed off during Mass,” Rainbow admitted with a shrug.

“The men of Sodom arrive and ask Lot to give up his visitors, so that they may be taken away and engaged in homosexual activities. Upon his refusal, do you remember what the two angels do to the sinful men of Sodom?” Celestia paused for the answer, which Twilight knew, but would not say. “They blind them.”

“You're going to blind me?!” Rainbow Dash gasped in shock, suddenly feeling very defensive and uneasy.

“No, not quite,” she corrected, and the young girl seemed relieved. “You see, the men of Sodom lost their sense of sight, which permitted them to look upon other men with sexual desires, and punished them for their sins. We don't want to punish you, Rainbow Dash. We are merely going to condition you into understanding the sickness that you have, understanding potential consequences you could face at our Lord's hand. Teaching you to blind yourself.”

“And what, exactly, might that entail?” she tried for more details.

“Do you know much about psychology, dear girl?” her Headmistress asked as she straightened out a folder of files and slipped a few onto a clipboard that hung by the foot of the bed.

“Not particularly.” Rainbow admitted slowly, waiting for more.

“Well, let's begin by explaining a technique known as conditioning. Twilight?” she called upon her most faithful student.

“The most classic example of conditioning is provided by Ivan Pavlov's experiment, in which he made his dog salivate to the sound of a bell.” Twilight started matter-of-factly, raising her index finger and adjusting her glasses.

“Wait, I've heard of this one,” the subject interjected with a few nods, but Twilight went on anyway.

“Yes, by ringing a bell every time the canine was presented with food, the dog began to associate the sound of the bell with the acquisition of nourishment. Therefore, when the bell was rung on its own, the dog would still salivate, in anticipation of the food.” Twilight told her clearly. “Pavlov conditioned his dog to drool every time it heard the sound of the bell.”

“So, somehow, you plan to condition me to... not drool at the sight of another woman, is that about the gist of it?” Rainbow played around with the idea, grinning as it sounded naughty.

“Crude as always, Dash, but yes.” Twilight sighed, but went on to clarify. “However, with Aversion Therapy, you will not be given any treats. It is a different kind of conditioning.”

“How so?” she inquired.

“Aversion Therapy conditions a subject out of their desires or habits by exposing them to a stimulus while simultaneously subjecting them to a kind of unpleasant discomfort or irritation,” the spectacle-adorning student went on.

“I do think I can handle a bit of discomfort.” Rainbow casually agreed, shrugging her shoulders and making a face.

“Good, you'll need to.” Twilight mumbled, but before Rainbow could comment on it, the Headmistress cut back in.

“Now, we're just going to need your signature on this waiver before we can begin.” Celestia told her, handing the clipboard over to her student with a pen held by the metal clip.

“My signature? Why?” the delinquent subject questioned, though she plucked the pen up anyway.

“To permit us to conduct the treatment. We need your consent, as this sort of treatment is not regulated by any school board or church. This is science, experimental treatments. I should imagine that makes you even more willing,” Headmistress Celestia told her, pointing to a dotted line with a small mark beside it. Rainbow shrugged something of an agreement, but Celestia wanted more. “We've already contacted your parents, and they've agreed to leave the choice to you.”

“Ahh. I suppose so. Uninvolved as always.” Rainbow sighed sadly, knowing her parents would hardly bat an eye regarding her school or personal life. Tapping the pencil on the clipboard a few times as she skimmed the conditions far too briefly, she finally got to doodling a signature where required. “And... scribbled.”

“Excellent.” Celestia nearly tore the clipboard out of her hand, hooking it onto the hangar at the end of the bed without hesitation. As she started to leave the room, she called back, “Twilight? Commence readying the patient, I'll gather the necessary tools.”

“Yes, Headmistress.” Twilight agreed promptly, going over to Rainbow and nearly shoving her onto the table as orderly and properly as she always was.

“Criminy, relax, I can do it myself!” Rainbow struggled, slapping Twilight's hands away as she laid down on the bed herself, with a few more grumbled curses under her breath. Twilight allowed her to lay down, and sat herself on one of the chairs beside the bed.

“Let us commence with a basic physical and overview.” Twilight began as she adjusted her glasses and briefly looked over a form she had on her always-at-arm's-reach clipboard. “Patient's name?”

“... Seriously?” the girl blankly spoke, such a silly question irritating her. She then decided to screw with the system, and responded with, “Sappho.”

“... Rainbow... Dash,” Twilight wrote in her real name anyway, and the girl rolled her eyes wondering why she had asked at all if she was going to answer it herself. “We've already been through your medical history. Do you have any illness, aches, pains, troubles, anything we should know about that have not been reported?”

“Hmm... well, my stomach hurts when I eat too much,” Rainbow teased, and Twilight looked at her dully, but said nothing about the remark. “I tend to be the trouble, Twilight.”

“Right,” Twilight murmured as she scribbled something, and Rainbow wondered what. The information-gatherer's eyes flickered back up to Rainbow's and she seriously asked, “Are you on any drugs?”

After a moment of painful silence, Rainbow Dash responded with, “Metric boatloads of cocaine.”

Slamming the clipboard onto her lap, Twilight snapped, “Does anyone think you're funny?”

“Is that a question on your form?” Rainbow curiously asked, sitting up a bit as if to see. Twilight growled at her audacity, but let her speak again, “Because seriously Twilight, I do think we should keep on topic here. It is of great importance we accurately respond to all inquiries.”

“Fine, forget the form.” Twilight grumbled as she stood back up, placing the clipboard on her seat. “Headmistress Celestia will be back with the machine momentarily, we should get you ready for the first round of treatment.”

“Brilliant.” Rainbow whispered, running her hands absently along the wax-paper covered bed, feeling like she was some baked treat being prepared.

“Here, hold out your arm.” Twilight was by her side, holding a small medical instrument, a needle as Rainbow could identify it. “It's a muscle relaxant, it's procedure.”

“Somehow I don't trust that,” the patient mumbled, but uneasily extended her arm anyway, scrunching up her face in mild fear as she watched Twilight disinfect the area. “Be careful.”

“Maybe next time.” The supposed caretaker jammed the needle into the crook in Rainbow's elbow, causing her to hiss in discomfort and tense up. After putting great effort into remaining still, she allowed Twilight to inject the relaxants into her body, and felt a cool breeze wash over her.

“Sadistic, Sparkle. You should think of doing this as a career,” Rainbow Dash spoke, and her voice was somewhat soothed by the medication already.

“Perhaps,” Twilight smiled at the backhanded compliment, but removed the injection and patted the tender area with a ball of cotton.

Staring at the ceiling seemed comforting for Rainbow, and as her body grew heavier, she felt gently swayed by the way Twilight taped up the little hole in her arm and pushed the whole stretcher over a few feet. Rainbow's eyes followed her caretaker as she went around the slightly drugged young girl and began to pull out what appeared to be straps of leather from under each corner of the bed. With a started flinch, Rainbow yanked her hand away from Twilight's reach and she scooted to the other side of the bed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's with the restraints?” Rainbow's voice cracked as her surprise became apparent.

“We warned you that it could be unpleasant.” Twilight told her firmly, taking hold of her hand and gesturing for her to lay back down.

“Yeah, but,” Rainbow Dash went quiet for a moment, and finally she heeded the commands. Laying back down and watching Twilight tie one restraint around her wrist, she shivered in anxiety and admitted, “They're making me a little nervous.”

“Again, it's procedure, we're not sure how you'll react to the stimulus, so we have to take extra precautions. It's necessary, Rainbow.” she told her, and her voice almost did seem sincere. With a small smile, she added, “If for nothing more than to combat that fighting spirit of yours.”

“That's comforting to hear,” Rainbow sarcastically replied, waiting as Twilight finished with her ankles and tightened all the holds.

Her head felt slightly fuzzy as the drugs continued to coarse through her, and she was unfamiliar with the sensation. Her body did feel a good deal more relaxed, but she was uncertain as to why it was necessary. Her arms twitched slightly, pulling at the binds accidentally. Perhaps she had not realized quite how vulnerable she would feel all sprawled out across an oblong stretcher like some dissection experiment. Though she tried to hide it, Rainbow Dash did feel a pang of fear as she realized just how helpless she was to Twilight and the Headmistress. She had hardly thought ahead when she allowed herself to be drugged and restrained, and now she had no say of her own in a thing, and that lack of control was terrifying.

The sound of wobbling wheels caught what little attention Rainbow did have, and she glanced over to the doorway to see a rather sizeable machine being rolled in. Her dizzy vision set on the end of the wheeled contraption, where a thick-bound copy of the word of the Lord sat. Huffing an amused laugh, Rainbow took in a breath before commenting on it.

“The Bible? What is this, an exorcism?” came a tired sounding joke.

“No, this is much more scientific.” Twilight corrected her easily, taking hold of the book and placing it on a desk instead, treating it reverently by running her fingers over it. “Intellectuals like psychoanalysts and neurologists developed this method, it's thus-far the most effective.”

“And yet, the Holy Book still remains at arm's length.” Rainbow Dash remarked, looking over the way a student of science treated religion. “For one so analytical, you certainly quote scripture like a champion.”

“I'm a scholar of all literature, the Bible is no different,” the scholar explained, and her Headmistress said no different. “God blessed me with my intellect, Rainbow Dash, I have to honour that.”

With a snort, Rainbow slumped back down on the bed and contemplated her own situation aloud, “God blessed me with a big mouth and a supposedly immoral disposition.”

“And a good deal more courage than you deserve,” Twilight Sparkle added, and it sounded something like praise. “And, hopefully, a strong will.”

Rainbow Dash met eyes with the straight-haired girl above her, and though they were so vastly different, somehow they seemed equal when she spoke like that. It hardly helped Rainbow Dash put any trust in the judgemental stranger, but it made the girl seem much more human to her, in a way. Twilight did not linger on their potential familiarity, and looked back over at her Headmistress for guidance, as usual.

“Are you ready, Twilight?” the older woman asked as she finished setting up the machine.

“Yes, Headmistress Celestia.” Twilight Sparkle bowed her head and agreed, taking up her clipboard and flipping to a new page, one which she underlined the title of twice.

“Are you certain this is going to work?” Rainbow meekly wondered, looking up innocently from her place on the oblong stretcher.

“Worry not, Rainbow Dash.” Headmistress Celestia comforted her, but it was with the word of the Lord who supposedly cared not for her. “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. Corinthians 10:13.”

“... Right.” Rainbow hesitated to agree, her face contorting a bit back into worry.

“Start the projector, Twilight.” Celestia commanded, and Twilight did as she was told and began to start the projector.

Meanwhile, the Headmistress adjusted the stretcher so that it sat upright and Rainbow could relax against a backrest. The bindings were loosened a bit so her arms weren't hung above her head. To replace the resistance, however, the Headmistress wrapped another strap firmly around Rainbow's forehead, affixing her to the backrest of the stretcher with ease. After testing to see if Rainbow could turn in any way, she deemed it suitable.

Rainbow's leg twitched as she felt the cold touch of aged hands, and she watched suspiciously as Celestia taped a round, metal thumb-sized marker to her upper thigh, somewhere uncomfortably close. With a disgusted frown, Rainbow cautiously looked at the detached expression of the woman in black. Another symmetrically placed metal marker was taped to her other thigh, and both had thin wire-lines leading to the machine that Celestia had rolled in. As several more markers were taped to Rainbow's temples, neck and abdomen, she thought it best to speak up.

“Is that some kind of monitor?” Rainbow asked, gesturing with a restrained nod towards the machine they seemed to be hooking her up to.

“Sort of.” was the vague answer, and it did not please Rainbow one bit.

Besides the little metal wires affixed to her, Celestia went over to the still fresh hole from the needle Twilight had injected Rainbow with and sized it up. After giving it a good inspection, the Headmistress wheeled over some IV drip and hooked it into Rainbow's already bruised and tender arm, despite her displeased grunt. Rainbow Dash curiously peered at the hanging bag of liquid, but could not make out what it would have been. At once though, the lights went dim.

As first, there was just white light cast onto the opposite wall. It seemed so bright in the otherwise dark room, which grew darker as the other lights were turned off. Rainbow tried to make herself comfortable in the stretcher, but that was a tall order. At first, the projector didn't work quite right, but Twilight did a good job of fixing it promptly and shifting it so it wasn't quite so crooked any more.

“Okay, feel free to tell us how you're responding, we are beginning now. You may feel uncomfortable at times, but this is supposed to happen.” Celestia told her patient gently. “Just relax, and let the therapy help you.”

The first slide had an immediate response with Rainbow Dash. It was all to familiar, a picture of the Lord Jesus Christ, and Rainbow kind of scoffed about it but said nothing. His youthful brow still seemed judgemental, though she knew the man was hardly so. The common chestnut of his hair was a clash against her own rebellious and standoffish tones, and his gentle attitude made hers look all the more abrasive. The usual Catholic guilt made her feel slightly ill, or perhaps that was something else entirely. As she stared at it, his calming face did little but make her anxious, but soon enough, it switched once more.

The second image was a gloriously famous snap of a man and a woman, sharing a passionate and spontaneous kiss in the wake of a Great War. It was charming and romantic, and Rainbow Dash couldn't help but smile, adoring the simplicity of love in a time of chaos. She had no qualms with heterosexuality; to her, love was just love, and all of it seemed so rare and precious it deserved not to be captured at all by the injustice of film. Still, once more far too early, the picture switched again.

Sitting before her in a regal, curved old leather chair, was the Queen herself. She was brilliantly dressed up, each fold of fabric falling perfectly around her still very young visage. Yet still, there was an uneasiness in Rainbow's stomach, be if from the anticipation or something less natural. The slide changed again, and quickly, to an image of another woman, who was wearing less clothing. She had a smile on her face anyway, and it was alluring to the young subject, but she wondered why her Headmistress was showing her these controversial things.

Rainbow had to shake her head a bit, as her eyes felt moist and a lump in her throat seemed to be rising with each passing picture. Another few clicked into view, some with beautiful women, each time with less and less clothing on, until at last, Rainbow's heart nearly stopped to see a completely nude woman. She appeared like some Greek goddess, some work of art, some mystical being born out of time and not true or real at all. Close in her embrace, Rainbow definitely took notice of, was another woman, just as freely naked and encircled by her partner's love. But as she looked upon the women, her stomach flipped over time and again.

“Twilight, do it,” Celestia's voice was a hush, and Rainbow could hardly pay attention as she focused on keeping herself from whining about her discomfort.

“Yes, Headmistress,” came the reply, and at once Rainbow noticed what her supposed caretaker had ordered.

A piercing scream echoed through the room, and for a few stunning seconds, Rainbow was uncertain that it had come from her own throat. Little black dots floated around her hazy vision, and her labour and terrified breath escaped her in jolts. Pitiful whimpers drummed out with each twitch of her sore body, and a sensation of both burning and icy chills originated from each metal marking. The sickness had tripled by then, and she had trouble holding back the urge to vomit.

“What... what're you... doing to me?” her raspy little voice sounded like a lost child, and she helplessly looked at her black-shadowed Headmistress.

“You must look upon the images, Rainbow Dash. I do not want to use stricter measures.” was a cold response, but the subject obeyed out of little else but fear.

The photo had been changed, and it was that of a man. He appeared strong and proud, looking down at Rainbow like her father might have had he been there to see her pathetic display. There was no pain then, just a few seconds to rest before the slide switched again.

She could hardly gather the chance to look upon the beautifully symmetrical face of another lovely young woman when another stream of shock raced through her. Again, her faltering cry called out for help, and her body tensed up. It almost felt like she had blinked asleep for an instant, but once more she was roused by her very upset stomach. Noticing the fragile way that she shook in response to the therapy, Rainbow took a closer look at the machine they had her hooked to.

“Electro... shock... right?” she perceived, but no answer came right away. “Is this... the treatment for those of us... who... who do not conform? Punishment?”

“Electroshock is a perfectly safe procedure for conditioning someone out of rightly distasteful urges, small scars are hardly a price to pay for salvation,” someone responded, and though Rainbow pegged the analytical response to Twilight Sparkle, she could not be certain.

“And what's... what's really in that IV?” Rainbow Dash managed to ask, her piercing eyes wishing she could stab through the bag and let it spill to the floor.

“It's intentionally nauseating, to induce immediate responses of sickness.” another even-toned reply, and it was so perfectly spoken it felt unreal.

“That's why you didn't feed me before this... isn't it?” the subject questioned accurately, but the only reply she really got was the scribbling of pen across paper. “Didn't want me to make a mess?”

Instead of any assurance of humanity, a simple little yellow bucket was extended and placed on Rainbow's lap. It hardly looked secure or sanitary, and it made the girl chuckle a little to see it. She glanced back up at the image placed before her, and she knew what would be coming next. A gorgeously pure woman, clad in a white dress.

“Well... I happen to be the type who likes to make a mess of things.” Rainbow managed to murmur out before the shock struck her again.

Gasping for air seemed to be her only clutch on feeling any better, but even that hardly soothed her. Bile was already coating her now acidic and stinging throat, and she coughed bits of it up and spat it into the bucket as best she could muster. Still, sleek lines of sickness trailed down her chin and dribbled onto her gown. Not that her caretakers chose to do anything about it but measure her output.

“And... you tell me... that I am sick...?” Rainbow Dash whispered so quietly her own ringing ears could not pick up the sound.

Another pause was left for Rainbow to detestably look upon the face of another man. It was not the men that gave her a break, that she should have been conditioned to have loved. They were the reason she was being fixed, being changed and strung up like some puppet. Those men who made the rules, who looked into the minds of sinners and told them that they were broken, built machines to torture them and freely gazed upon their own desires without consequence. Those haughty men, who were too proud to accept others who would penetrate them, who were too selfish to share his greedy desire for women. Women like those who flashed before Rainbow Dash, and by no consent of their own, stood along the lit-up walls with still faces and watched her scream, watched her cringe and flinch and call out to the heavens in agony.

“S-Stop, stop, please...” she begged for pause, but none would come.

Each shock sent her mind reeling, stole away her sharp tongue, her wit and her resolve. Nude, natural women stood before her and tormented her. Instead of the burning lust she was blessed with, they cursed her with electric zaps shocking as near to her intimacy as a nun dared to place her tools of the devil. Rainbow Dash shuddered in the cold, exhausted by the nearly fading in and out of consciousness, by the stealing away of her will. Her weak, trembling arms pulled against the restraints, and whines for mercy rolled out of her dry lips.

Gut-wrenching pain raced through her once more, and another gag left her throat rotten with putrid taste. Staring into the little yellow bucket, Rainbow drearily watched the bubbling and shifting liquids, seeming so toxic it was as if she was expelling her impurities themselves, if it were only so easy. Each change of image, transitioned by a half-second of darkness as the slide switched, was marked by a flinch from the bound young girl, as fear grasped at her every bone and muscle.

It seemed to drag on forever and then some, and Rainbow Dash was desperate for release far too early into the procedure. Now her wet eyes blurred each woman to pieces, and each shock had her shouting and screaming for an end. At last though, the slides seemed to run thin, and Rainbow Dash begged and begged for some kind of clemency. Her burned arms, shoulders and thighs wept, and instead of the usual pleasure she was accustomed to when looking upon another woman, she was met with the scalding burns of electric fire followed by the glass-like scratch of icy air.

“Please... en-enou... gh... p-please...” was like someone else's voice, the whimper of an infant swaddled too tightly or smothered by its mother's breasts.

“Twilight, the guard,” came a command, which was followed precisely.

“Yes, Headmistress,” her student replied as she grabbed a small, yellow rubber bite from the table of medical tools and grabbed Rainbow's jaw. Roughly opening her mouth, she shoved the thick bite into Rainbow's mumbling mouth, which served to keep her silent and to keep her from chattering her teeth.

“You will struggle, Rainbow Dash, but your consent has already been given.” the Headmistress's voice was firm and not comforting in the slightest. As she removed the stack of slides, Rainbow's petrified eyes widened to see her grab a whole new deck and load them in. With a shaking head and trembling body, she heard the last few horrifying words, “We will not falter until we cure you.”

Author's Notes:

Aaaaaaaaaand shit just got REAL. Poor Dashie, I just love to torture her, don't I? Well, what do you think?