Spitfire stared down at Rainbow Dash from her seat by the medbay cot, eyes wide as she tried to take the situation in. Rainbow Dash… was alive. It didn’t seem possible, really. She had heard the reports, the crime scene in her cloud home. The blood spatters alone seemed to show more than enough for the pegasus to have bled out. Her friends had certainly believed it to be true. The magical storm that Princess Sparkle had conjured up in her grief and anger had been enough to send the weather teams from Cloudsdale all the way to Las Pegasus into overdrive for months to fix the damage to the weather patterns. Judging from her meetings with the Princesses, her death had effected even them; Princess Celestia had taken firm control of the Royal Guard, spreading them out far and wide to find the culprits. And Princess Luna… well, Spitfire supposed that was the reason she had turned the Night Guard into one of the most feared not-so-secret police in all Equis.

A soft squeak from the sleeping Dash instantly brought Spitfire to her side, a hoof gently settling on her shoulder. The poor mare did… not look good. Her face was badly bruised; some old, some very much new, including a nearly swollen shut black eye. Her hind legs were swollen and crooked, having been broken and healed at wrong angles. ...several times. The doctors had told Spitfire that it would take magical healing at Canterlot to fix that particular bit of damage. But beyond any of it, the most shocking, and noticeable, difference was the swell of her pregnant stomach. a good six months along.

“Wish I had stomped that bastard’s face in,” she growled.

“Tell me about it, boss.”

Fleetfoot stalked inside as quietly as she could, glaring down at the ground. The Wonderbolts were all standing guard outside. Even if Rainbow Dash had only been in the Reserve, she was still one of their own. They had taken the news of her ‘death’ hard, especially Soarin’ and Fleetfoot. Rainbow Dash had inspired all of them; she had even saved all three of them at the Best Young Flier’s Competition. That had more than earned her way into their good books. And after forgiving them for their total stupidity during the Equestria Games qualifiers…

The usually gruff Wonderbolt looked up at her captain, angry tears in her eyes.

“We were at her funeral, Captain… we all were. Hell, you and I spoke at it!”

Fleetfoot’s hoof dug loudly into the wooden floor.

“We shoulda tried harder… she’s been with those monsters for a whole bucking year! A YEAR! How could-”

A hoof to the snout quickly stopped the tirade before it could head down its inevitably self-deprecating path.

“Cool it, soldier,” she interrupted sternly, putting on her best “commanding officer” face.

Well-trained, Fleetfoot instinctively stiffened into a formal stance… though she could not do the same for her outraged tear ducts.

“We made a mistake,” Spitfire admitted slowly, giving a faint sigh, “But those foalnappers did their work well. It was dirty, it was bucking rotten… but we can try to make it up to her.”

She waved a hoof back at the sleeping flier.

“Rainbow Dash is going to need alot of help, and alot of friends to support her.”

Spitfire smiled softly as she saw the rest of her teams peek inside to listen.

“We’re Wonderbolts, colts and fillies. She is a Wonderbolt. And we take care of our own.”
***********************

This wasn’t the floor. The spongy softness underneath her aching body, the warmth… a bed? A BED! Rainbow Dash opened her eyes with a snap, shakily raising her head to peer down at the cotton-and-silk sheets beneath her.. and promptly give a squeak of terror, launching herself off the bed like it was made of acid. Master hated it when she stayed on the bed without permission. Beatings tended to follow when she had a lapse of judgement, or passed out on the bed. Last time, the Master had promised to clip her wings if she was on the bed without proper permission. A horrified shudder ran up her spine at the very thought.

Gulping back bile, Rainbow Dash darted back to the bed, hooves shaking as she struggled to make it appear like she was never there. This bed wasn’t like her master’s bed. His bed was a firm, hard thing- built for griffons. But it was so much more forgiving than the cool wood floor she usually slept on, and with the foal coming… The foal. Lightning raced up her spine, and Rainbow turned to vomit heavily onto the floor. No, no… now she’d have to clean that up too. The foal. The foal. The words lingered in Dash’s mind, battering away every little defense she tried to throw up in its way. The mental images of a little colt… but with a massive, leering face of her master… A clawing, screaming… She turned to be sick again, absently planning how best to clean it up, when the sound of hoofsteps caught her perked ears.

“O-oh no,” she breathed, nausea still burning in the back of the pegasus’ throat as she frantically tried to cover the spot with a pillow.

The steps didn’t sound like her Master, but it could just be another of his minotaur cronies, or even one of those ponies he had as allies. She gave a soft whimper as she remembered the first time she had seen one; a tall, pale grey stallion with a cold smirk, selling a few other ponies to Master. The rage that had filled her… Rainbow could still feel the whip wounds from the punishing she had received for attacking the “client.” She really hoped vomit on floor wouldn’t earn her another beating, she’d have to move fast to please whoever-

The door was swinging open, and Rainbow Dash scrambled to sit on her haunches in front of it, head bowed submissively, wings tucked tightly to her sides and tail around around her legs.

“Woah, kid, what’re you doin’ up?”

No. Nonono… Rainbows magenta eyes slowly peeked up, horror filling them. Spitfire. Leader of the Wonderbolts, in full regalia. Staring at her, biting her lip slightly. Was Spitfire a friend of Master too? Who else was!? Was this some sick joke? Were her friends? Mayor Mare? Did they plan all of this?!

“W-what… why are…”

Tears were filling Rainbow’s eyes as she tried to question, to plead, to beg Spitfire to tell her she wasn’t some kind of messed up pony slaver too. She- The breath was forced from her lungs as the fiery mare slammed into her, strong forearms wrapping around Rainbow’s neck and choking… no, this was… a hug? Rainbow gaped a bit as Spitfire, her absolute idol, hugged her for everything she was worth, and that fell far too much for Rainbow. What was going on?

Her eyes flicked around the room, noticing details for the first time. This wasn’t in the compound. The wood was cedar and oak, where the compound had all been cheap pine. To one side was a small viewport, and drifting clouds could be seen practically at eye level. Two more faces peered nervously into the room; to Rainbow’s stunned eyes, they turned out to be Fleetfoot and Soarin’, other members of the Wonderbolts. Memories were starting to piece together, what she had sworn was a dream.
Thunder and lightning all around, shaking the room Rainbow had been in with her master, waiting for his daily “stress relief.” It had nearly made her sob in longing. She missed flying… she had missed storms, the static electricity rocketing through her wings and along her insulated fur. It had been so long since the wind, her birthright, had kissed her. The loudest crash she had heard in her life had suddenly flung Rainbow off the bed, and she had been more than eagerly to crawl under the bed, listening to the shriek of metal on metal, the roars of her master. Then the thump… the flash of red and orange and that gravelly, familiar voice…

“Y-you came for me,” Rainbow Dash whispered softly, eyes wide as tears flowed down her cheeks like river, “I… I’m…”

“You’re going home, Dash,” Spitfire whispered softly, embracing the trembling mare with her wings.

She was going home.

Author's Notes:

Sorry for the wait, everypony. This... was hard to write.