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by Wintergreen Diaries

Chapter 8: The Long Road Home

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One would have had to search far and wide to find a more contented filly than Dawn that night, and further still to find a more doting father. Draped across her father’s lap, she had dozed off to the cathartic sensation of the brush passing through her ample mane, and with one final pass, Cerulean laid the brush aside with a thankful smile. Though still quite young, Dawn had begun to mature beyond her years, and she had been running herself ragged trying to cover for the lack of smiles since Pinkie’s departure, especially with regard to her parents. Twilight in particular had been struggling to accept what had happened, but between Dawn’s antics and the kind of reassurance that only the young can give, she had been the beacon that kept their spirits high.

Taking a few more minutes to enjoy the stillness at the end of another long day, Cerulean leaned his head back and closed his eyes. The whole last week had been nothing short of chaotic, and in a lot of ways, Pinkie had picked perhaps the worst possible time to leave. Between the birth of three new foals amongst their friends, the general lack of civility around town, and the tragedy that none of them expected, having somepony around to spread good cheer would have been greatly appreciated. And yet, with the exception of one, most of their friends were doing alright, despite the sting of separation they felt every night. Even without being a bearer of the Elements, Cerulean could see that the bond between the six ran deep, and that being apart was taking a heavy toll.

“If only there were more I could do,” he thought ruefully. “From everything I’ve seen, Pinkie really is a great pony at heart, even if she is consistently unpredictable, and Rarity… well, she probably made the right choice to leave. Goodness knows I had to roam for a while before I found peace. I hope for her sake, though, that it takes weeks rather than months and years. And Rainbow Dash…” Cerulean couldn’t help but place a protective hoof on Dawn’s back as he shook his head. “I can’t imagine what she must be going through right now…”

Refusing to dwell more on the matter without his personal heater nearby, Cerulean laid aside his dire thoughts and set about settling in for the night. Carefully scooping Dawn onto his back, he carried the filly to her bed and tucked her in, lingering at the bedside for a few, thankful that she was well. Quietly closing the door behind him, he returned to the den, tidied up a few of the tomes scattered about, and retired to the couch where he sat perusing advanced magical theory. He had been close to graduating from the Canterlot Academy for Advanced Magical Studies when he had been forced to leave, and Twilight had wholeheartedly supported his decision to finish his degree. Cerulean had only made it through a few pages when a knock at the door drew his attention.

“I wonder who that could be?” Twilight would have known better than to knock that late, and Spike probably would have unintentionally made his presence quite clearly known with the volume of his knocks. “I’ll bet its Fluttershy,” he reasoned to himself as he rose. “Her knocks are pretty quiet.” Quietly plodding over, he opened the door and found himself looking not at the timid pegasus he had expected, but the sheepish smile of the Ponyville party pony. There was no hesitation on Cerulean’s part as he closed the distance between them and wrapped the mare who was so dear to his wife in the loving embrace that Twilight would have given herself.

“Welcome back, Pinkie,” Cerulean murmured quietly. “It’s great to see you again.”

“Cerulean, stop,” she mumbled quietly, pulling away. “Of all the ponies in town that could give me hugs, yours are the ones I definitely don’t deserve.”

“That doesn’t mean that you won’t get them, and it certainly doesn’t change the fact that I’m pleased to see you again,” he countered with an encouraging grin. “Come on in, Pinkie. I’ll bet you’ve got a lot on your mind - and tail, apparently,” he added, noting the small alligator with a death grip on her tail.

“Yeah, Gummy may have been a teeny bit lonely while I was gone,” she conceded with a rueful chuckle, following Cerulean inside. “I’m pretty sure he won’t let me do something like that again.”

“He’s probably not the only one,” Cerulean laughed, offering her the couch as he pulled up a chair. “You’ll be lucky if Applejack doesn’t hogtie you the moment she sees you.” They both shared a giggle at the thought, though Pinkie quickly grew somber. “I’m assuming that you’re here to speak with Twilight?”

“That’s right,” Pinkie confirmed. “Well, actually, I think that you both need to hear what I have to say. Is she home?”

“Not yet, but she will be shortly,” Cerulean replied. “Let me call her.” Grateful that he could find a practical application for some of the jargon he could be studying, Cerulean lit his horn and loosed a small stream of magic that zig zagged up and out, zooming out into the night sky across town. It wasn’t quite the same as sending a scroll like Spike could with his dragon magic, but basic thoughts and messages were simple enough. A short while later, Twilight’s response came in the form of a lavender light that enraptured Cerulean’s horn for a moment before dissipating.

“She’ll be here in a few minutes,” he explained, grinning broadly. “I can already tell she’s excited to see you, so brace yourself.”

“You mean... she’s not upset?” Pinkie asked, sounding unsure. “I would have thought that she would be mad, after what I said to Rarity and Rainbow Dash…”

“She was.” Pinkie cringed, and Cerulean looked into her eyes intently. “Twilight cares deeply for all her friends. Watching a rift be torn between you all really hit her hard, and her default reaction was to blame herself that you and Rarity left.”

“...Rarity left too?”

“Only a few days after she returned from Dodge,” Cerulean recounted, noting how stricken Pinkie looked by the news. “Rarity had a good long talk with Twilight before she made the move to Manehatten, and she seemed at peace with her decision. I wasn’t present for the conversation, so Twilight can tell you more, but from the sounds of it, Rarity was adamant that our attention should be focused on you, not her. Actually,” he added, “if anything, she seemed more like her old self than I had seen her since first coming to Ponyville.”

Mixed didn’t even begin to cover the blend of emotions welling within Pinkie’s chest at the news. On one hoof, hearing that Rarity had seemingly recovered from verbal beat down that Pinkie had given her brought some measure of relief. That same relief, however, brought with it no small measure of guilt for the way she had gone about bringing her grievances to light, and she couldn’t understand how any of what she had said or done might have brought peace when her manner was one of war. She hadn’t long to ponder such things as Twilight appeared in the room with a flash of light. Pinkie hardly managed to lift her hoof in a timid wave before being summarily tackled into the nearest pile of books and hugged within an inch of her life.

“Yeeee! Pinkie, you’re back! You’re really back!” Twilight squealed with delight, rolling to a stop with a book draped over her head at a jaunty angle. “How could you just go running off like that? Oh, I’m so excited to see you! You’d better have an explanation for all of this!” Alternating between sheer elation and stern reproval was comical enough in itself, and Pinkie couldn’t help but chuckle at the mare as every motion caused the book to slowly slide to one side, before finally falling to the ground with a thump as Twilight brought it in for one last hug. “We all missed you, you know,” she murmured softly, holding the embrace. “And we wouldn’t have given up until you came back.”

“...Do you really mean that?” Pinkie asked quietly, releasing Twilight and tucking her hooves to her chest. “Before I left, I wasn’t being much fun at all. Everything I tried seemed to fall flat. I felt like I was just frustrating everypony no matter what I did, and being a bother isn’t any fun at all…”

“Pinkie…” Reaching down with a hoof, Twilight helped Pinkie upright and held her gaze with eyes full of concern. “The reason that we were all frustrated is because you wouldn’t let anypony in,” she explained sadly. “How could we stand to laugh when we knew you weren’t yourself? You were driving yourself so hard, and none of us even knew why. We asked, we pried, we prodded, but all we got from you was denial, Pinkie.” Twilight hadn’t realized that her tone had grown harsh until she saw the tears forming in Pinkie’s eyes, and immediately she dropped her voice to a hush. “We all could see you were hurting, but we didn’t know what to do.”

“... All I wanted was to be noticed,” Pinkie said quietly as the first tear tumbled down her cheek. “When you first arrived, Twilight, it seemed like almost every day we were having some super fun adventure. It didn’t matter to me if things got a little crazy, because the time I shared with all of the girls was the happiest time of my life. All the laughs we shared made me feel… appreciated. Every week was better than the last, and after we survived the invasion of those funny changeling thingies, I… I realized that I never wanted anything to change,” she explained, sniffling a little as she slowly turned towards Cerulean with evident sorrow.

“... but then it did.” Unwilling to look at the sympathy in the stallion’s understanding gaze, she screwed her eyes shut and looked away. “I… I didn’t mind Cerulean at first, really. He was just another pony, another potential friend, and a reason to throw another super fun party that I could share with my friends. But then, the more you two spent time together…”

“... The less time Twilight had for you,” Cerulean finished for her.

“Yep…” Pinkie said with a feeble nod. “I didn’t think much of it at first. I figured she was just excited to have a new friend, and that’s something that I totally understand. What I didn’t get was why you were always on her mind. Even when we did hang out, she seemed super distracted, and sometimes, I felt like I was hardly there at all.”

“Pinkie, I never meant-” Twilight began to say, but stopped as Pinkie held up a hoof.

“I know,” Pinkie interjected, “I know you never meant to make me feel that way. But I did, and it wasn’t just you, Twilight.” She shuddered visibly, even in the dim light. “Rainbow Dash followed next, and then Applejack… and even Fluttershy. Within a few years, almost all of my closest friends had found that one pony that they couldn’t live without, and I… I…” Overtaken by the weight of remorse, Pinkie fell quiet for a few moments as she steeled herself for what would be the hardest words she had ever had to speak, but they had to be said.

“... I resented all of you.” Her admission stood counter to everything that she had sought to uphold. Hearing it come from her own mouth caused the dams to break entirely, and she couldn’t help but bury her muzzle in Twilight’s chest as she began to sob. “I didn’t want to, I really didn’t! I didn’t, I didn’t! I… I didn’t…” Caring hooves folded around Pinkie’s back as she wept. “Please don’t hate me… please, I didn’t- didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t be silly, Pinkie, I could never hate you,” Twilight assured her, tearing up herself. While it hurt to hear that Pinkie had felt alienated, hearing the staunch terror in her voice was far worse. Stroking her mane as she would when Dawn was upset and whispering soothing reassurance in her ear, Twilight and Cerulean both set about calming the mare. Eventually, the tears subsided, and it was with a fragile whisper that Pinkie continued.

“One by one, I watched each of my friends find somepony that made them happy in a way that I couldn’t,” she explained, wiping a hoof across her runny snout. “I felt like my friends were all being snatched away, and I didn’t know what to do. It made me feel like I didn’t matter anymore… like I could just disappear, and nopony would even care. It was so lonely…” She peeked up just long enough to see Twilight’s crestfallen gaze before hiding again. “I can’t... stand feeling alone.”

There was no answer ready on Twilight’s tongue as the mare fell quiet. Looking back over the last few years, Twilight could pinpoint all the signs Pinkie displayed in her behavior that were dead giveaways that something was wrong, and yet she and her friends had collectively missed them all. They had all seen how deeply feelings of seclusion affected Pinkie when they had tried to throw her that surprise birthday party, but the thought of somepony as caring and giving as Pinkie being subjected to that same isolation slowly, and over the course of a few years, was too much for Twilight to fathom.

“Why couldn’t you have just asked for help?” she whispered, tightening her hold as much for her own comfort as for Pinkie’s. “Couldn’t you see that we cared?”

“I was afraid,” she admitted. “I could see that you were happy with Cerulean, just like everypony else was happy with the stallions they had befriended. I knew that it wasn’t right of me to try and take that place, but I couldn’t stop myself from wanting all these new ponies to leave so things could go back to the way they were, I… I thought you’d be angry if said anything. After all, I’m the party pony… I’m only supposed to be fun.”

“Pinkie, I know that you’re pretty silly, but that’s just ridiculous,” Twilight said, managing a laugh. “Nopony could ever expect you to not have times when you’re sad, or upset, or anything else that isn’t explicitly labeled as ‘fun.’ Sharing your worries and doubts is just as important as celebrating the excitement and successes, maybe even more so. Honestly,” she continued with an encouraging grin, “you could stand to spend a little more time with Cerulean here. He knows all about fighting inner battles alone, and why it’s a terrible, awful idea that never works out well. Right?”

“Right!” he confirmed firmly. “I would be more than willing to do whatever I could to keep somepony from falling into the same trap that I did. We aren’t meant to face life’s struggles alone, Pinkie: that’s what friends and family are for. Not just the fun times, but for anything that life blows our way.”

“I’m kinda starting to get that,” Pinkie admitted with a weak giggle. “I feel just awful that I didn’t come to you guys sooner. All of this could have been avoided if I hadn’t been so stubborn.” Her ears drooped a little as she sighed. “I had really started to think that you were all terrible friends that didn’t know me at all, but I see now that I was the one keeping you out. I’m sorry,” she said again, looking towards the two of them. “Both of you. I’m really, really sorry.”

“We’re sorry too, Pinkie,” Twilight replied. “I feel like we should have done more, and there were definitely things that we could have done better, but what matters now is that you’re back, and what we do moving forward.”

“Well, the first thing I’m going to do is apologize for making such a mess on your coat,” Pinkie said with a sheepish grin.

“I’m a mom,” Twilight reminded her with a chuckle. “I’ve dealt with worse, trust me.” Her declaration was so dismissive that Pinkie couldn’t resist having a laugh, and the joyful noise went a long way in dispelling what remained of the somber atmosphere. Pinkie hadn’t known what to expect, but the understanding with which she was met warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t felt from her friends in quite some time. She went on to explain that she had even been worried to open up to her family, but the more she had, the more she came to realize that she needed to come back, and that it was in her father’s firm instruction and the memories in the scrapbook that she found the strength to return. After thanking them again for their understanding, Pinkie lingered for a while before making her way to the door, adamant that she would see the rest of her friends before the night was through. Twilight watched her bounce away as Cerulean joined her at the door.

“You feel like you should have told her about Rainbow Dash, don’t you?” Cerulean said softly. Twilight nodded, hanging her head. There wasn’t much that either of them could say about what had happened mere days before Pinkie’s return, and neither of them could be sure how the recently retired Wonderbolt would react when they met. “I guess you’d better get down to the hospital, then,” he urged her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You’ll be worrying all night if you stay here.”

“You’re right…” Stealing a quick hug, Twilight stepped out into the night. She could do little else but hope Rainbow Dash would be willing to listen to reason, but rationality isn’t often displayed in times of grief, and she definitely had reason to grieve.


“I may just make it to see everypony tonight after all!” With significant pep restored to her bounding gait, Pinkie Pie welcomed the cool country air brushing against her face as she skipped down the road. “Everypony except Rarity, anyways,” she corrected herself, welcoming the fragrance of apples carried by the light breeze. Pinkie was rather disappointed that she wouldn’t get to apologize to Rarity that evening, especially given that she was the one that had been hurt the most, but at the same time she was grateful, as late as it was. Despite the fact that she was starting to feel like her old self, she could feel the weight of emotional exhaustion creeping in, and reluctantly she ceased her bouncing about and adopted an easy canter as she entered Sweet Apple Acres.

“I’m glad Fluttershy wasn’t angry with me,” Pinkie noted with a rueful grin. “She’s scary when she’s upset.” After leaving the library, Pinkie had made a beeline towards the cottage near the forest edge. It was a well known fact that Fluttershy was a sensitive soul, and while it wasn’t a default for the kindly mare to activate her lecture voice, there was part of Pinkie that still dreaded getting a Fluttershy-style dressing down. Fortunately, what she received was a soaked coat from happy tears, lots and lots of unnecessary sorries, and enough hugging to leave a kink in Pinkie’s neck.

“She sure is stronger than she looks,” she thought with a giggle, rubbing tenderly at her neck. Pinkie knew she meant well, and the slight soreness was actually somewhat comforting, in a strange sort of way. Whisper, her husband, didn’t really know what to make of the whole situation. He didn’t really seem to understand that he had, at one point, been the subject of Pinkie’s ire, but he did join in on the hugging bits, and his childlike concern really went a long way in impressing upon Pinkie just how wrong she had been about pretty much everything.

“I goofed up, and that can only mean one thing,” Pinkie affirmed within herself. “I need to throw them a party!” Already her mind was working furiously on ideas for her first ever apology party extravaganza. With her thoughts full of confetti and streamers galore, she quickly lost track of time and before she knew it, she was standing at the door of Applejack’s pad. She had learned from Fluttershy that Applejack had indeed given birth to a foal in her absence, which left her hesitant to knock lest she wake both mother and child. Settling for a compromise, Pinkie rapped out a simple melody as quietly as her hooves could manage, and after a momentary lull, she was rewarded with muffled hoofsteps on the other side. Prancing in place to keep herself limber, she grinned broadly as a tired farm pony opened the door, saw her guest, and temporarily forgot how to breathe. Very temporarily.

“Howdy, Apple-” Not even managing to finish the mare’s name, Pinkie looked on with confusion as her friend managed a quiet gasp and bolted back inside, her hoofbeats sounding like thunder claps against the quiet of the night. “...Jack?” Pinkie finished, cocking her head to the side. She didn’t have time to ponder what exactly was going on, because mere moments later Applejack came barreling down the hallway and launched herself at Pinkie. Assuming that the disappearance was simply to gather speed for her flying hug, Pinkie let loose a chortle as she was bowled over. The truth of the matter was that Applejack wasn’t about to take any chances with Pinkie Pie slipping away before getting a piece of her mind, and her lasso was going to make sure of it. It didn’t take long for Pinkie to realized that Applejack’s “embrace” may not have been as friendly as she had expected as they tumbled to the ground, her hooves pinned to her sides. When the dust settled, Pinkie found herself well beyond hogtied, and she looked up at Applejack with a sheepish giggle as the stern mare bored down on her.

“There, that ought t’ keep you still long enough fer me t’ speak my mind,” Applejack declared in a reasonably calm tone. It didn’t last long. “Ahem. ...What in tarnation were you thinkin’ runnin’ off like that?!” Pinkie’s ears, one of the few parts of her not strapped down, were summarily blasted back as Applejack bellowed. “You went and scared us all half to death! The whole town has been in a dreadful tizzy since you up and dodged to Dodge, and ain’t nothin’ we’ve been tryin’ has cheered them up. For the love of- do I look like I’m good with balloons?!”

“Have you tried streamers?” Pinkie asked with a timid chuckle.

“Streamers? Streamers?!” Applejack sputtered, stomping a hoof in emphatic frustration. “One of the town’s most caring and fun loving ponies just packs it in and bails, and you think that all it’s gonna take t’ calm ‘em down is a couple of shiny strips of paper?”

“What about confetti? That’s lots of little strips of paper,” Pinkie suggested with a snicker.

“Pinkie!”

“Okay, okay! Sorry, I’ll be serious now,” Pinkie assured her with a rueful grin. She knew Applejack was furious, but she could also tell it was because she was worried sick.

“Huh, I should hope so,” Applejack said with an irate snort. “You’re lucky you decided to come back on your own, because in a few more days I probably woulda gone right down to Dodge and hauled your flank back home mahself. Now,” she continued, leaning close and narrowing her eyes, “you’d better have a good explanation for all of this.”

“I kinda do, and I kinda don’t,” Pinkie admitted. Applejack slowly drew away and took a seat beside Pinkie, though she still hadn’t lost her officious glare.

“... Ah’m listenin’. Start talkin’.” Having come for that very reason, Pinkie took a deep breath and started from the beginning as Applejack’s husband, a unicorn brewer and alchemist by the name of Silver Moonshine, observed from the doorway. Pinkie spared no detail and explained herself as best as she was able, admitting how her stubbornness had prevented her from reaching out to her friends even as the resentment of feeling ostracized continued to grow. Being a pony that had trained her senses to spot lies the moment they arose, Applejack could tell that Pinkie was being honest as she poured out her heart. She had expected something silly from the silly pony, but at that moment Applejack was seeing a completely different side of Pinkie than she had come to know. As Pinkie concluded her recount and apologized both to Applejack, for being too headstrong to acknowledge her need for help, and to Silver, for holding him responsible for the anger and pain that had nearly consumed her, Applejack was left without words for further chastisement.

“... Hold still, ah’ll get these ropes off you,” she said quietly, giving a few tugs in the right places and letting the mess of cords fall free. “Ah had no idea that we had made you feel that way,” Applejack explained, helping Pinkie upright. “We could all see that somethin’ was botherin’ you, but none of us could figure out how to get you to speak up so we could help. Ah guess we coulda tried harder…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Applejack,” Pinkie pleaded, placing and encouraging hoof on the dejected pony’s shoulder. “I stopped giggling at the ghosties, and I let them spook me out. I couldn’t see how much I was pushing you all away, even though all I wanted was to feel close like we used to.” She shared a rueful smile with Applejack. “I guess it’s pretty silly that the pony who likes to make everypony smile wouldn’t let her friends do the same.”

“Silly is puttin’ things lightly, sugarcube,” Applejack replied, cuffing her lightly. “You might have pulled the wool over mah eyes once, but don’t you go thinkin’ you can get away with it again. If you’ve got somethin’ that’s botherin’ you, especially if it’s somethin’ ah’ve done, then you darn well better be ready t’ spill the beans, y’ hear?”

“Hear, hear!” Pinkie chortled. “Actually, I’m surprised I haven’t heard your foal, Applejack. You were pretty loud just now.”

“Oh, Jonagold?” Applejack laughed, shaking her head. “Shoot, that colt could sleep through an earthquake without battin’ an eye - unless he’s hungry, anyways.” Pinkie could practically see the exclamation mark poised over Applejack’s head as she stopped cold. “Goodness, that’s right! You haven’t seen him yet! Would you like t’ meet him?”

“Sure would!” Pinkie quipped, leaping to her hooves. “Lead the way!” Dancing in place as Applejack expertly coiled her rope, the two mares collected a stallion at the door and made their way through the cozy country home and into a smaller side room with a crib nestled by the wall. Pinkie couldn’t help but notice the pride that lit Applejack’s face as she gingerly scooped up the colt, only a few days old, and presented him to Pinkie.

“Awww, Applejack, he’s adorable!” Pinkie said with a muted squeal. An earth pony just as Applejack had predicted, Pinkie could see exactly why the name Jonagold was so fitting for him. Nearly every color that the apple for which he had been named was represented, from the pleasant green of his coat, to his auburn mane was complemented with patches of gold - definitely his father’s genes at work.

“Would you like t’ hold him?” Applejack asked, matching Pinkie’s smile with her own.

“Sure!” Pinkie eagerly replied, accepting the foal into her hooves. Jona gurgled drowsily at the transition, lightly bucking Pinkie in the chest as the pass was made and prompting laughter all around. “He’s definitely got some Apple in him.”

“He sure does,” Applejack agreed, drawing up beside Silver and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “We did good, didn’t we?”

“Couldn’t have done better, sweetheart,” he returned with an affectionate kiss to her forehead.

“Why couldn’t I see it before?” Pinkie wondered as she watched the two chatter quietly. “They look so happy… how could I have been upset with this?” Where once she had seen her friends’ displays of affection towards their respective partners as nothing short of exasperating, she now found herself wondering if, perhaps, what she had really been feeling was a longing for the same. “A friend that wouldn’t leave,” she pondered, remembering her father’s words as she returned her attention to the slumbering babe nestled into her embrace. “That sounds… really nice.”

“Don’t you fret, now.” Perplexed, Pinkie turned her attention back to Applejack as she trotted over. “You’ll have one of your own someday, ah’m sure of it. Maybe even sooner than ya think,” she added with a wink.

“Applejack, what’re you talking about?” Pinkie asked with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know of anypony that might-” She hadn’t even time to finish the statement before a tingling heat began building in her cheeks, spurred on by Applejack’s knowing look.

“Tell me more about this Merry feller,” Applejack prodded, genuinely curious. “Ah don’t know what your standards are fer datin’ but traipsin’ through a sandstorm has got to count for somethin’ don’t it?”

“It’s not like that!” Pinkie denied, though Applejack’s look made her question herself. “At least, not yet, I don’t think. I don’t know a whole lot about him, and I don’t even know that I’m ready for anything like that. I mean, earlier this afternoon, I was a total wreck,” she reminded Applejack, drooping her head. “I still have a lot of growing up to do. I need to get all that fixed before I even think about, yanno… dating, and stuff. ...Right?”

“Well, see, that depends on how you look at it,” Silver chimed in. “You don’t wait to have friends until you know everything about friendship, do you?”

“Of course not! That’s just plain silly,” Pinkie answered readily.

“There’s your answer right there,” Silver said with a grin. “A special somepony isn’t some mystical pony that you have to be perfect for, or that makes everything roses and ale. They’re a friend, one that you form an unbreakable bond with as you learn and grow together, and as a friend, they accept both your weaknesses, and your strengths, and love you all the same.”

“He’s tellin’ the truth, sugarcube,” Applejack continued. “Shoot, probably half the town has heard about all the problems that Silver an’ I have had to work through. Ah don’t know if you recall, but ah was probably at an all time low when ah met Silver. However,” she continued, shifting course a little, “don’t think for a second that I’m sayin’ that you need t’ date, or that you can just rely on somepony else t’ just fix everything.”

“No, no, I think I get what you’re saying,” Pinkie assured her, giving Jonagold back to his mother. “Things have changed so much for me, even just today, that I still have a lot of questions about lots and lots of stuff. I know that I need to be doing my part to get things cleaned up, and part of that is going to mean letting other people help with the not-so-fun things, instead of just trying to have fun all the time.”

“Pinkie, ah won’t lie. Ah didn’t think ah’d ever be able to say this an’ mean it one hundred percent, but it sounds like you’ve got yer head on straight.”

“Sweetheart, that was a bit much,” Silver chided, though the bountiful laughter filling the room made it clear that Pinkie hadn’t taken offense. They chatted for a while, teasing back and forth and generally taking pleasure in one another’s company over some fine cider. While reluctant to part ways, Pinkie eventually made her way to the door.

“You’re back for good, then right?” Applejack asked as Pinkie pranced out to the porch. “You’re not gonna make me go all the way out to Dodge to tan yer hide, ah hope.”

“Well, actually, I do plan to go back home for a while,” Pinkie informed her. Applejack looked peeved at first, but relented as the mare explained how she wanted to spend some time with her family.

“Ah suppose there’s nothin’ else for it, then,” Applejack conceded. “Family is important, and ah respect your decision, but ah sure wouldn’t mind if you stuck around fer a spell. The town’s well of smiles seems to be in a terrible state of drought since you turned tail, an’ ah know it ain’t just me that would love t’ keep you around.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll here a few days, at least,” she said, punctuating her intent with a hop. “I’ll make sure that everypony has a reason to smile before I leave again.”

“I’d better get the cider ready,” Silver commented with a grin. “Sounds to me like a party’s brewing.”

“Shhh, don’t spoil it!” Pinkie shushed, putting on her best serious face. “It won’t be a surprise if you go around blabbing.”

“Don’t worry, ah’ll keep ‘im in line,” his wife said with a sly smile. “You off t’ bed, then?”

“Actually, I still haven’t talked to Rainbow Dash yet,” Pinkie said casually. “I’m sure that she’ll probably be… be, um…” She fell quiet as the expressions of the two ponies before her grew dire. “Is… something wrong?”

“That’s right, you wouldn’t have heard,” Applejack murmured, looking away.

“Haven’t heard what?” she pressed, doing her best to remain calm even as anxiety coiled in her stomach. Tension mounted as the question was met with extended silence. “Applejack?”

“Ah was hopin’ that Twilight would have told you, but ah guess that responsibility falls on me,” she answered, forcing herself to look at Pinkie. “Pinkie, Dash… she had an accident a few days ago.”

“W-what kind of accident?” she asked, swallowing hard. “Is she alright? She’s alright, right?”

“It wasn’t her that was hurt.” The mare’s pained voice was almost inaudible, and the sound alone was enough to move Pinkie to tears. “...It was one of her foals that was hurt in the crash.”

“No…” Strength fled from Pinkie’s limbs. Her trembling legs gave out as her mind stitched together what had happened, even as Applejack explained.

“Rainbow Dash has- she’s never been one to listen to rules,” the mare, barely able to choke out the words. “She knew better than to be flying around so close to her due date, but when Rarity came back and explained how upset you were, she took off without a moment’s notice. By the time Storm had been told, she was long gone, and he may not have been able to keep up with her anyways.” Applejack wanted to stop. She could see the guilt welling in Pinkie’s eyes already, but she had to know.

“I don’t know what you said to her,” Applejack continued, her voice low, “or what she said to you, but when she returned, she was like a completely different pony. She was yellin’ about everything, especially at Storm, and nothin’ we said seemed to make a lick of difference. And then, day that Rarity left…” It wasn’t her intent to make things work, but being a mother herself, even thinking about what had happened to her friend tore her apart.

“She… she had a really strong contraction while she was flying, and... lost control.” Were it not for her husband’s comforting embrace, Applejack doubted that she would have been able to finish. “The resulting crash induced her labor early. One of her foals, an earth pony, was born healthy and without complications. But the other, a pegasus filly, she-” A shudder raced over the stalwart pony, and she pressed closer as her voice dropped to a deathly hush. “Both of the child’s wings had been broken in the crash. The doctors have high hopes that she’ll live, but they don’t know if she’ll ever fly, and Dash has barely spoken a word since.”

With her muzzle pressed down to the dust that had been sprinkled with her tears, Pinkie bowed her head under a burden too great for her to bear. No matter what way she looked at it, her actions had orchestrated a disaster greater than she had ever imagined. All of the stubborn rebellion in her heart that had prompted her to lash out came roaring back to the forefront of her mind, threatening to drown out the light of reason with the tides of sorrow. No amount of seeming wrongdoing could ever be justification for her anguish, not if what she had been told was the result. Pinkie didn’t have to hear Rainbow Dash’s condemnation because she knew that she was to blame, and nothing she could say or do would ever undo what had happened.

“Why couldn’t Merry have helped her instead?” Pinkie thought, feeling as though she might vomit from the shame. “I was the one in the wrong! I’m the one who deserves to have something bad happen, not Dashie! Not like this…” She likely would have laid there the whole night through were it not for the hoof that hoisted her upright and dusted her off, but even with Applejack standing right there, she couldn’t stand to look at her.

“Ah know you’re probably blamin’ yerself somethin’ fierce right now,” Applejack began, her voice sounding hoarse, “but you’re the only pony that might have a chance of getting through to her. We’ve all tried, an’ failed, t’ comfort her. She was really hurt by whatever you said, Pinkie, but it hurt because you matter to her, and ah know she matters t’ you, too.”

“... W-where is s-she?” came Pinkie’s stammered reply. All she wanted at that moment was to curl into a ball and cry herself to sleep, but she knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t do anything and everything within her power to comfort the friend she had so deeply wounded.

“She’s at the hospital,” Applejack said, motioning down the road. “She hasn’t left her filly’s side since the accident.” Though she wouldn’t have said so, Applejack had secretly hoped that Pinkie would be at least somewhat stricken by the news. She knew that Pinkie had the propensity to ignore the seriousness of things in an attempt to maintain a sense of levity, but Applejack had never expected that the mare would be so openly devastated, and it really drove home that Pinkie had indeed changed. There was a time and a place for a laughter, and she was showing quite clearly that she could tell this wasn’t the time.

“Silver, could you walk her down to the clinic?” she asked, turning towards her husband who gave an understanding nod.

“B-but I don’t deserve-”

“It ain’t about what you deserve,” Applejack interjected, cutting Pinkie off. “It’s about what you’re gettin’, and what you’re gettin’ is support, same as I’d give to any of my friends. Dash is hurting right now and so are you, and you both need all the comfort you can get. I’d go myself, but Jona will probably be waking soon, and I need to be around.”

“I wouldn’t argue with her,” Silver said gently, noting the hesitation in Pinkie’s glassy eyes as he drew up beside her, holding her steady. “Come on, now, you’re almost home.”

Barely able to nod, Pinkie dipped her head and started down the road, leaning heavily upon the stallion beside her. From what she knew of him, Silver had quite a knack for being a conversationalist, but Pinkie was grateful that he held his peace as they walked. Her mind frantically searched for words that she might say, some tidbit that might be able to soothe the sting what had happened, but nothing she could think of even began to cover how she had wronged Rainbow Dash. Her thoughts got crossed even further as she was forced to a sudden halt by Silver’s hoof, and she couldn’t help but cower as Storm’s massive frame swooped out of the night sky and landed with a rush of wind and static, blocking their path. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to: there was wrath in his eyes.

“... Storm,” Silver acknowledged the hulking pegasus. There came no verbal response. Storm’s coat was dark enough that he almost melted into the night, but there was no mistaking the fury in fulgid yellow eyes that remained fixated upon the trembling mare standing behind a unicorn that he could easily crush underhoof. “Spreading your grief won’t make it heal any faster,” Silver said firmly. “Taking your anger out on Pinkie won’t undo what’s already been done. You know that, Storm. Don’t add regret to your sorrow doing something rash.” His eyes flicked away briefly before snaring Pinkie once again with his searing gaze.

“... Fix it.” Scarcely able to keep upright from the massive backdraft caused by his takeoff, Storm shot off into the night, disappearing quickly from sight.

“Thank the stars,” Silver murmured, turning to find Pinkie shaking like a leaf. While he had been prepared to defend the mare should things have escalated, he doubted that he would have won, and would definitely not have walked away unscathed. “I apologize for Storm, Pinkie. He’s been struggling to cope as much as Rainbow Dash, and he’s been having quite a rough time trying to keep his temper in check.”

There wasn’t much for Pinkie to add, and they resumed their journey in silence. It was almost a relief when the hospital finally came into view, and it would have been were it not for the fact that if Storm was upset enough to threaten her the way he had, then she could only imagine the kind of reception she’d get from Rainbow Dash. Fortunately for her nerves, she found a friendly face waiting for her as they entered, and she regarded Twilight with fatigued relief as she neared.

“Evenin’ Twilight,” Silver said courteously, relinquishing Pinkie into her care.

“She looks like she’s seen a ghost,” Twilight said worriedly, embracing the mare as she stumbled over and all but collapsed in her waiting hooves. “Did something happen, or is she just upset about Rainbow Dash?”

“A bit of both, I’m afraid,” he conceded, shaking his head. “Storm gave us both quite a scare when we were heading over. I really thought that he was going to try and hurt Pinkie, but fortunately he wasn’t in the mood for a brawl.”

“Ach, ye know better than that, Silver.” At the sound of the telling dialect, the ponies turned to find that their resident nightwatch had slipped in behind them at some point during the course of the conversation. “Storm’s been havin’ a rough time o’ et lately,” Silent Gale said ruefully, stepping further inside. “Poor lad ain’t been himself. Ah’ve done what I can t’ help, but all I can do is keep ‘im in check, make sure he doesn’t do anything that he’ll regret. Make no mistake, he probably would’ve taken a swipe at ye if I hadn’t been watchin’.”

“Then thank goodness you were,” Silver replied with a weak grin. “I would have done my best to protect Pinkie from harm, but Storm’s got size, weight, and strength over me, and I don’t think my magic would have done much to help.”

“Ye could ‘ave stalled, I’m sure,” Gale chuckled, smacking him lightly on the shoulder before trundling over to Pinkie. “I’m sorry about Storm, lass. I’ll pray ye find it in yer heart t’ forgive the lad.”

“Th-thanks, Gale,” she murmured. “I know he’s just upset…”

“Heh, you don’t know the half of it,” Gale muttered, turning away. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Thank you for watching out for them, Gale. Take care,” Twilight said, watching him leave. “Silver, you can probably head home, too. I’ll make sure that Pinkie makes it home safely.”

“I reckon the missus is missin’ me,” he chuckled. “I’ll be seeing you, Twilight, Pinkie. Keep your chins up.” Seeing him off with a feeble wave, Pinkie let her hoof fall to the floor with a dull thud. Her limbs felt like lead, and her nausea had only been exacerbated by Storm’s menacing posture, but now that she had made it to the hospital, she couldn’t even begin to think about running away. And yet, even as she leaned on Twilight for support, she found herself drawing strength from somepony else as she remembered the colt that had gone through so much for her.

“I’ll bet that Merry felt even worse than this,” she thought, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “And that was for me, a pony that he had never met. I couldn’t possibly turn away from Rainbow Dash, not if there’s a chance that I might be able to help.” Steeling her nerves and determined to do for another what had already been done for her, she cracked open her eyes and found Twilight watching her intently. “I… I think I’m ready.”

“... Alright,” she nodded, “I’ll lead the way.” Pausing briefly to make sure that Pinkie was steady enough to stand on her own, Twilight led her down the sterile halls and towards the maternity ward, explaining a little more about the situation as they went. Because the birth of her twins was only a mere number of days before her actual due date, there weren’t any major complications. The filly had been kept in the NICU for a day or two while they did what they could to repair the damage done to her wings. It was early that morning when she had been cleared to be moved into the nursery, which wasn’t commonly used.

“Rainbow Dash hasn’t left the hospital since her babies were born,” Twilight explained, cantering to a halt outside the nursery. “She hardly touches the food that we bring her, and she doesn’t appear to be getting much rest.” Another sigh slipped from her lips as she glanced towards the door. “I honestly don’t know how she’ll respond to seeing you. I really, really am hoping that maybe she’ll listen to you, but I’ll be right outside if things start to get out of control.”

“You mean you’re not coming with me?” Pinkie asked, making no effort to mask her hesitancy.

“I’m afraid I may have already worn out my welcome,” Twilight replied quietly, turning away. “After losing two of my friends in such a short amount of time, I was desperate to keep from losing a third, and I… I guess I tried too hard. She won’t say a word to me now, or… or even acknowledge that I’m there.” Of all of her friends, Pinkie knew that Twilight was the one who took it upon herself to be the mediator between the Elements, always ready to leap in and do anything she could to resolve conflict and preserve harmony, and the heartbreak that she had felt from the Pinkie had left up until that night was evident as she cast her gaze towards the ground. “Please, don’t let her slip away,” she whispered. “I don’t want to lose another.”

“I’ll do everything I can,” Pinkie assured her, offering what comfort she could in a hug. “I may have left, but I also came back, so don’t lose hope, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Pinkie,” Twilight murmured, smiling as she sniffed a little. “But you shouldn’t be worried about me. Rainbow Dash needs you more.”

“Doesn’t make you need me any less, silly,” Pinkie snickered quietly as she pulled away. “You keep that up and I’ll have to give you a lecture.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” While the laughter they shared was bittersweet, it still went a long way in soothing their nerves, and they both fell quiet again as Pinkie turned towards the door. She lingered briefly outside as she adopted an appropriately somber expression before gently pressing on the handle and slipping inside. Despite taking great pains to make sure the door closed as quietly as possible, the click of the latch still sounded uncomfortably loud to her ears as she looked around the dimly lit room. There were two rows of six cribs, a rocking chair, and quite a bit of counter space, but all in all the room felt claustrophobic. It didn’t take long for Pinkie to find the pony whom she sought, and her heart seemed to falter a little more with every step that she took towards the pony slumped by the only two occupied cribs.

“Oh, Rainbow Dash…” It was as though somepony had stripped away every ounce of life from her lively, competitive friend and left only the battered husk. Her mane hadn’t been brushed in days and had lost its sheen, with even the brightest streaks of yellow seeming dull. Deep bags rimmed her eyes, and while the mare had always maintained a lithe, athletic physique, Pinkie couldn’t help but notice how desperately her feathers needed to be preened. Her eyes were barely cracked open, but they didn’t seem to see, and the mare gave no sign of noticing her company as Pinkie sank down beside her.

“... Dashie?” Pinkie whispered, swallowing hard. Rainbow Dash flinched, but otherwise didn’t respond. “Dash? It’s me, Pinkie. Remember?” With a shiver the mare stirred, slowly turning to towards Pinkie and staring with vague confusion at what perceived to be an apparition.

“... You’re not Pinkie,” she muttered, turning back towards the crib. “The real Pinkie hates me.”

“No, you’ve got it all wrong!” Pinkie pleaded, putting a hoof on the mare’s shoulder. “I never hated you, never ever! I was just scared, and I didn’t know what to do, and I said all sorts of mean things that I wish I could take back, but I can’t, so I came back because I needed to tell you that it was wrong of me to act that way!” Something was different the second time that Rainbow Dash turned to look at her, something that Pinkie couldn’t quite put her hoof on. It was almost as if Rainbow Dash was struggling to see what was right in front of her, and she stared in silence for what seemed like an eternity before her eyes suddenly widened.

“P-Pinkie?” she whispered.

“This isn’t right. Something’s wrong,” Pinkie thought worriedly as Rainbow Dash lurched away from her hoof. “Dashie, it’s okay, everything is-”

“S-s-stay away!” Rainbow Dash yelped, falling to the floor with a crash as she scrambled to get away.

“Dash, what’s-”

“D-don’t come near me!” Spreading her wings, she made as if to wing away, but between her sleepless delirium and the unkempt state of her feathers, she only succeeded in gliding a short distance before slamming into the counters at the opposite end of the room.

“Rainbow Dash, please, calm down!” Pinkie cried out, cringing as the two foals in the room woke at the commotion and began to wail. After having helped raised the Cake twins, Pinkie’s immediate response was to try and soothe the upset children, but she had barely started to reach for them when a cyan streak shot across the room, bowling her over and scattering a few of the cribs.

“Don’t you touch them!” Rainbow Dash growled.

“Then stop scaring them and calm them down!” Pinkie snapped back.

“I can’t do that!”

“And why not?!”

“Because you were right when you said that I’m not fit to be a mother!” Pinkie didn’t even feel the blow to her chest as Rainbow Dash slammed her hoof down, tears streaming down her muzzle as she crumpled to floor. “You were right,” Dash choked out, sobbing quietly. “You were right, I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready, I’m not ready, I’m… I’m not…”

There was little that Pinkie could do but hold the mare as she wept, shamefully admitting to everything about parenting that she had failed, even before the foals were born, with every confession making the reason for her grief painfully clear. Rainbow Dash had jumped into motherhood as much out of her lust for competition as anything else, only making the decision in response to hearing that Applejack had conceived. Throughout the eleven months leading up to birth, she had continuously shrugged off the advice of friend and doctor alike by continuing in her daredevilry and aerial acrobatics, even if she did tone them down, and it was ultimately that same rebellion that had led to the injury of her daughter.

“When I tried to bring you back, you said… you said that I was too selfish to be a good parent,” Rainbow Dash rasped out, her voice growing hoarse. “You said that if I couldn’t even put the needs of my children first and listen to the doctors, then there was no way I could be a good friend, and you were right.” Pinkie wanted to interject, to tell Rainbow Dash she had it all wrong, but the more Rainbow Dash continued to talk, the more she could see how true her words had been, even though they had been spoken in anger. In her ardent denial and abject frustration with being told what she hadn’t wanted to hear, she had put her own feelings above the safety of her foals, and the bandaged wings of the filly sitting a short distance away was proof of her negligence.

“I can’t do this,” Rainbow Dash squeaked in a pained whisper. “There’s nothing I can do to change how selfish I’ve been. My friendships are tanking, Storm probably doesn’t want anything to do with me, I can’t even stand to look in the mirror anymore, and those foals…” She shuddered, a fresh stream of tears coursing down her cheeks as she listened to them cry. “They deserve somepony better than me.”

“What do I say…” Of all the ponies qualified to be consoling Rainbow Dash and confronting all of the doubts that she had, Pinkie felt as though she were on the bottom of the list. She had only just recently realized that she had changes to make herself, and every second that passed without her having anything to say felt like watching a door slowly being closed. Fervently searching for the answer, she closed her eyes and drew the mare close, rocking her gently. It was again the memory of what Merry had done for her that she realized what Rainbow Dash needed most was a reminder that what once was could be again, and that nothing she had done prevented her from paving an even better future.

“Wait right here,” Pinkie murmured, peeling away from the mare and rising to her hooves. Quietly making her way over to the frightened foals, Pinkie found that the colt, an earth pony, had already ceased crying and sat with his hooves pressed against the edge of the crib, looking intently at his mother. The filly, scarcely able to stand from the bandages binding her wings, was doing the same, and Pinkie reached down with great care and carried them both over to where their mother lay trembling. The moment they had been set down, the colt scuttled over to his mother, only to realize that his sister was still far behind. Darting over to her side, he helped nudge her over, and she immediately nestled up to her mother, clinging tightly to her foreleg.

“I think they’ve missed their mommy,” Pinkie said softly, taking a seat beside her. “I may not be the greatest teacher, Rainbow Dash. I’m not that great with words, and there are loads of things that I still need to learn, but one thing I do know is that we aren’t meant to tackle our challenges alone. You say that you can’t change how selfish you’ve been, and that’s true,” she admitted. “Nopony can change the past, but the future is… like an unfrosted cupcake!”

“... A cupcake?”

“Yeah! You can put all sorts of things on a cupcake!” Pinkie explained with a grin. “Not everything makes a tasty cupcake, though, like glue. Glue is icky! Nothing like the whipped, creamy goodness of cream cheese frosting....”

“... You’re drooling on my hoof.”

“Oops! Sorry, got sidetracked,” Pinkie apologized with a sheepish chuckle, wiping a hoof across her mouth. “Listen, Dashie, you keep making this sound like all the responsibility is riding on your shoulders, but it isn’t. You’ve got lots of friends that want to help you keep the glue away from your cupcakes, but you have to let them in. Don’t push everypony away like I did,” she pleaded gently. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“But I already drove everypony away,” Rainbow Dash countered, hanging her head and really showing the depth of the frailty she fought so hard to hide. “What if they don’t come back? What if they don’t forgive me? What if… what if I hurt my kids again...” She didn’t have the strength left to fight the hoof that reached under her chin and gently guided her eyes towards those of the pony that she had been sure would never speak to her again.

“Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she looked down at her dear friend. “I came back. I forgive you. And they love you.” Taking care not to bother the foals slumbering at Dash’s hooves, Pinkie leaned over and drew her friend to her chest as tears of a different kind began to fall. She hadn’t known how deeply Rainbow Dash had longed for Pinkie Pie’s forgiveness and the restoration of their friendship, and Pinkie had, in three short sentences, driven away a despair not unlike the one that had overtaken her, and threatened to rob her of the friends that she held so dear. Instead, in the course of one night, she had reclaimed what she had cast away, and had been blessed with the opportunity to help someone else do the same. As exhaustion ran its course and she slipped into a doze, she did so with a warm smile spread across her muzzle, thinking fondly of the pony that she had left behind in Dodge who had helped her put away the glue.

Next Chapter: Back Again Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 40 Minutes
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