Sometimes, if you were just quiet enough, one could almost hear the stars sing.

Sweetie Belle lay in the backyard of Carousel Boutique, hooves folded across her belly as she watched the inky expanse slowly dance in the sky above. She listened every night throughout the summer, she and her elder sister, Rarity. So long as the weather was pleasant, they would lie outside just as they did now and watch for falling stars, the eternal night sky glistering with countless brilliant stars.

“Come along, Sweetie,” Rarity yawned tiredly. “I don’t think that any are going to fall tonight.”

“Sure they are!” she rolled her eyes, although she was beginning to have doubts as well. “Plus, what if a star does fall, but I’m not watching to make a wish on it?”

“I’m sure that there will be other falling stars in the future, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity patted her on the head quietly. “Five more minutes. If you haven’t seen one by then, you’re still getting a bath before bed; falling star or no.”

Sweetie sighed in wordless agreement, resuming her watchful gaze over the sky. She had begun to grow a little tired, and in more ways than one. It was a waning dream, and she knew it. Wishing for a Cutie Mark was unlikely to be as effective as any other methods she had tried.

But she wouldn’t know unless she tried, would she?

Sweetie stared hard into the endless space, searching with all her might for just a single falling star. Much to her disappointment, however, she did not see a single one. There were plenty of other stars, to be sure; all stationary, and not a single one of them burned particularly brightly in such a manner that projected a ‘wish-like’ quality to it. Or perhaps Sweetie just really wanted to see a falling star and wouldn’t settle for anything less. Certain that Rarity would be coming back for her at any moment, Sweetie sighed again and gradually pushed herself up from the ground.

And then she saw it.

It sparked so brightly through the sky that she couldn’t not spot it, so dazzlingly was it falling. It had to have been one of the brightest, biggest falling stars that Sweetie Belle had ever seen, and it was blazing across the night sky with unmatched fervor. Excitedly, Sweetie began sputtering her wish under her breath, dancing back and forth…

Until it changed direction.

Slowly furrowing her brows in confusion at the unexpected sight, Sweetie paused and peered hard at the meteor, which had suddenly whirled around at an acute angle. She could have sworn that it was getting bigger, too. Which was strange, she had never actually seen a falling star change its direction while hurtling through-

Sweetie was blasted back by the force of the impact, thrown hard and fast several meters from the sheer blast. She squealed in pain and surprise, instinctively rolling and scrabbling to stand shortly afterwards. A bit dazed, she-

-stared in awe at the cosmos before her, hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Enjoying the view, McFarlane?”

“Only contemplating, Captain,” she responded quietly as the elder man stood beside her, watching through mechanized viewing window.

“We’ve nearly reached the fifth sector,” Henry informed her. “This could be it, McFarlane. The first in seventeen generations to see the sunrise from planetside again.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Captain.”

“You don’t have faith in the crew?”

“My faith waned after we lost expedition crew four bee.”

-stumbled forward, her mind a blur as she automatically snagged the lump sticking out of the ground. No thought, only instinct. Unsure of what urged her onward, Sweetie’s hooves felt cold as ice when she touched it, and a numb, heavy feeling sparked through her limbs as she roughly shoved the head sized lump away and rolled it as far as she could into the bushes. And not a moment too soon, as only a second later and it would not have been hidden from view.

“Sweetie Belle?!” Rarity’s voice rang in her ears, although it seemed dim and oddly watery. She shrugged off her sister’s hooves for a moment, roughly shaking her in panic. Rarity hefted her up with surprising strength, dragging her into the light.

“Sweetie!” Rarity’s panic addled voice sounded much clearer, and Sweetie shook her head thickly. “Sweetie Belle, are you alright? What happened?!”

“Nothing,” the filly blurted, rubbing her aching head. “Some-something fell, I think I’m okay.”

“Oh, Celestia you’re bleeding…!” Rarity breathed, magically snagging towels and dabbing at her head. “I have – easy, easy! Oh my, oh my… it doesn’t seem to be much more than a-a little cut,” she mused nervously, clearly obfuscating the truth of the matter. “Ooh, I hope you don’t need stitches…!”

“I’m okay, Rarity,” Sweetie shook a little. “Really. I-I just need to get some water on it.”

“Are you mad?” her sister shrieked, and Sweetie resisted the urge to plug her ears. “Water? Water? You need antiseptic, what if it gets infected? You aren’t leaving my sight, we’re getting you to a doctor’s, right away!”

“There we go,” the doctor passed Sweetie Belle a lollipop. He started to ruffle her mane out of habit, but carefully kept himself in check lest he upset the damaged scalp.

“Thank you ever so kindly,” Rarity fluttered her eyelashes, and Sweetie bit back a groan. “I don’t think I’ve been so worried about the dear in a week.”

“Don’t mention it, s’just my job,” the older grey stallion bragged. “Wait, a week?”

“Oh, she gets into trouble now and then,” Rarity flirted. “Actually, every week.”

“It’s not every week,” Sweetie Belle mumbled, the anesthetics slurring her speech. “Didn’t do-do anything last week.”

“You set the kitchen on fire.” Rarity frowned, but relaxed a little as Sweetie Belle closed her heavy eyelids and started to drift back to sleep.

“Mind if I bring her back in for a checkup?” she quietly asked the stallion, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Actually, I was just about to suggest the same,” he nodded, brushing a lock of greying mane from his face. “Just to make sure she hasn’t agitated the stitches and gets her antibiotics with two meals a day. You’ve got a very lucky filly on your hooves, Miss Rarity.”

“You have no idea, Doctor White. No idea at all.”

Sweetie Belle awoke to the familiar and friendly scent of hay waffles.

She rolled lethargically to her side, the warm blankets snuggling neatly against her. She had difficulty holding back a peaceful grin as she stretched, dreamy thoughts of syrup and waffles already dancing through her head.

And then the pain spiked, and all those pleasant dreams vanished in an instant.

Sweetie yelped, clutching her aching head in agony. The blinding, searing knife between her eyes gradually eased to a dull throb, though she still refused to open her eyes. She ever so carefully pried her eyes open, carefully touching her head. Vague memories of the stitches came back to her, and she pursed her lips as she thought.

Her thoughts were a bit fuzzy, although she attributed it to the sleep. Yawning tiredly and careful not to agitate the stitches, Sweetie quietly slipped out of bed just as her elder sister peeked in through the open doorway.

“Oh, are you finally up?” Rarity levitated a tray of breakfast items, all formed in a neat pattern as she smiled warmly at her. “Don’t even think about it, right back in bed, young lady.”

“Rarity,” Sweetie Belle deadpanned. “I have a couple of cuts, not a cold.”

“And with all the running around that you do, I don’t want you getting anything dirty near potentially infectious cuts!” she frowned, nosing the filly back into her bed.

Sweetie sighed heavily through her nose, and said “Rarity, come on. I promise I’ll be really, really super careful not to get dirty. I’m kind of pooped, anyways.”

“All the more reason to stay in bed, then, isn’t it?” her sister replied automatically, and Sweetie bit back a retort. Was there simply no winning an argument with her?

“… Okay, Rarity!” Sweetie Belle complied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, patting the bed to signal her where to place the tray. “I’ll be good and stay put. Can you... leave, now?”

The unicorn stared at her for a moment, confusion showing through. Before she became suspicious, Sweetie added “It would just be really rude of me to eat in front of you, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind sharing some of that toast-” Rarity began, but was cut off by Sweetie.

“Oh! Oh, uh, no,” she pulled the entire tray closer to herself, which looked as if Rarity had just made a bit of everything she could think of and packed the tray full. “I’m, uh… I’m really hungry. I’ll probably eat it all.”

“All of it,” Rarity blinked, and looked back at the full tray and back to her sibling. “All by yourself?”

“Really, really hungry,” Sweetie Belle nodded seriously, jamming spoonful after spoonful of hot oatmeal into her mouth to demonstrate, and burning her tongue. “Phee?”

“Eurgh – er-hem, of course,” Rarity obviously resisted the urge to look away from the filly with food dropping out of her mouth, her hoof halfway through the air. “For goodness sake, Sweetie, chew with your mouth closed!”

“Egh fiff plif faph!”

Rarity wordlessly trotted off and closed her bedroom door with a snap, and Sweetie Belle gave a quiet crow of victory. Rapidly swallowing the oatmeal and sidling out of bed, Sweetie crept to the windowsill and pried it open, overlooking the same spot in the backyard where the meteor had fallen.

She knew exactly what she had to do. It was the same burning urge she’d had ever since she had awoken.

Slipping carefully out of the window and onto the lattice, Sweetie Belle crawled downward and used the framework as hoofholds, quickly shimmying down the mesh. Heartbeat pounding in her ears by the time she reached the ground, Sweetie darted over the brightly lit yard, cursing the lack of shade that the sun brought. However, she made it to the bush where she had shoved the fallen star unseen, and grinned when she pried apart the bushes to peek at the curious thing.

It was surprisingly heavy, and Sweetie snagged it with both hooves to drag it toward the lattice. Now it was just a matter of getting it back to her room. The odd dirty ball still strangely felt just as cold as it had before, like she was touching ice. Regardless, she dragged the whole thing all the way back up to the second floor, even though she almost slipped a couple of times and barely saved herself by hooking her hoof through the mesh and pulling hard, muscles screaming in protest.

Sweetie dropped the lump on the floor, panting heavily before wiping her brow. Her ears perked up as she heard Rarity quickly trotting back up the stairs, having been alerted by the loud thump. Again acting with unexpected agility, Sweetie jammed the heavy ball beneath her pillow, scrabbling to partially cover herself just as her sister burst in through the door.

“Sweetie?” Rarity poked in curiously, her eyes full of worry. “I thought I heard something, did you fall out of bed?”

“Huh?” she blinked, heart so loud that she could hear it in her ears. “Oh, uh… sure. Yeah, I-I did.”

“You haven’t touched your breakfast,” her eyes narrowed slightly, and Sweetie held a hoof to her own forehead.

“Oh, it’s because I couldn’t eat it!” Sweetie replied quickly.

“I thought you said that you were hungry?”

“Nope!” she answered a little too loudly. “Sick, feeling a little sick.”

She froze when Rarity carefully felt her forehead with the back of her hoof, furrowing her brows in concern.

“… Hmm. You do feel a bit warm. Sweaty,” she pulled away with worry, and Sweetie Belle felt a surge of guilt for lying. “Stay right there, I’m going to go grab a thermometer.”

Sweetie finally let out a sigh of relief when Rarity left her in silence again, and realized that her hooves were still shaking.

She had done it. Her ruse had worked.

… Why had she done it?

Why?

Sweetie carefully stuck her hoof beneath her large, fluffy pillows, touching the cold ball lightly and thinking deeply. There was definitely a reason that she had done it. She could feel it. It felt important, even if she didn’t really know why.

It is important.

“It really is,” she mumbled aloud to herself, feeling an odd sensation in her chest. The fallen star was very, very important, she knew that. It was almost as if some greater power had drawn her to it – or maybe drawn it to her. It was her fallen star, her wishing star.

And even though she couldn’t quite hear it, she knew that it held a message for her. Sweetie could almost hear it, like it was her fault for not listening closely enough, like it was hiding just a little too far for her ears.

It spoke to Sweetie Belle, even if nopony else could hear. It spoke to her and her alone, she knew. She could hear it behind her thoughts.

You can save us.