Rainbow Dash knocked timidly on Scootaloos' front door. She knew she wanted to, no, had to, talk to her; but what was she going to say? What could she say? If she'd found out that Apple Jack had been killed; what would she want someone to say to her? Would she want anyone to say anything? And was she in any shape to actually offer anything? She was still processing all this herself. How could a fractured heart heal a broken one?

The door slowly opened. Scoots' dad stood before her; his eyes red from crying. She figured most of those tears had been shed for Scootaloo (although some must have been shed for Apple Bloom as well).

"She's in her room," he said. His voice was small, broken. It was a voice beyond sadness, beyond sorrow, a voiuce settled in to that eventual emotional numbness which acompanies all tragedies when the body can not simply feel anymore and shuts down to save itself.

Rainbow nodded without a word (none was needed) and walked in, to the steps that lead upstairs to Scootaloos' bedroom.

"Thank you Rainbow," Scoots' mother said weakly, voice cracking from tears yet unshed.

Rainbow turned and nodded; then proceeded to walk up the stairs.

Rainbow could hear Scootaloo crying from the top of the steps. It was crying, wailing, sobbing, all cycling in a wheel of despair and agony. Sometimes hints and shades of words would bubble up like oxygen in boiling water but disapear before they could take final form. A name? A plea? A prayer? A curse? All of the above or none? It was impossible to tell.

Rainbow got to her door and pushed it opened. In times such as these; knocking is not only unneccessary, but unseamly. She knew the door wouldn't be locked. In times of sorrow, one might want to be alone (hence the shut door), but not cut off.

As soon as she entered the room, Scootaloo jumped up, ran over to her and hugged her with a strength and fierocisty that only those in the depths of a bottlems despair can possess.

"Kill them! Kill all of them! Promise me you'll kill all of them!" Scootaloo begged through heavy tears.

Rainbow hugged her back tightly. She kissed her forehead, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I promise."

***********************************************************************

"Your parents told me you'd be here," Soarin said as he walked up to Rainbow. After leaving Scoots' house, she had gone home, grabbed some practice weapons, went to the park, and started practicing combat manuvers. She was in the middle of some bow work (her favorite since the soccer camp incident).

Rainbow stopped and shot Soarin a hateful look. "Not now Soarin," she said in a cold, seetheing anger.

"Rainbow, Rachael . . ."

"NO! Don't you use my real name! I told you never to use that!" Everyone thought Rainbow was Rainbows' real name. She told everyone as much and her parents never felt any need to set the record straight. By this point; even they considered Rainbow to be her real name. Soarin was the only one she had ever told her real name to. For her it was the most intimate thing she could do. More intimate than even sex. Sex was giving up a piece of your body; telling him her name was giving him a piece of her soul.

Soarin knew he was treading dangerous ground here but so was Rainbow. If he didn't do something, she could do something extremely foolish and get herself killed.

"Rachael, there's nothing you could have done."

"It's not about what I could have done, but what I'm going to do. Now go. I need to train."

"Well, if nothing else, think about what you're doing. You're training for combat in the park. If you're not worried about the police; at least think about if any of your enimies can see you. I mean, you don't want them to see your moves do you?" Soarin said the last sentenced with a forced laugh to show he was joking.

Rainbow just glared at him; a burning hatred eminating from her eyes. "How dare you?" she said in low fury through clenched teeth. "How dare you even ATTEMPT TO MAKE A JOKE OUT OF THIS!"

"Yell at me, hate me, I don't care. If it keeps you occupied, if it keeps you from going off and doing something stupid, then fine, whatever, I'll take it. I'll take all of it. I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

"The only ones who are going to get hurt are Chrysalis and Aria. I made I promise and I plan on keeping it. I am The Warrior remember?"

"Yeah, I do. I saw what you ascend. But no warrior, no matter how well trained, how, . . . MAGICAL, is invincable. Especially if you're not thinking straight."

"I am thinking straight!"

"Are you?" Soarin's voice was full of concern and sadness. It wasn't so much a question as a plea.

Rainbow dropped her bow, sat down on the grass, and hugged her knees. "I hate them," she said so softly it was almost a whisper. She staired over her knees into nothingness. "The Equestrians. I hate them. Not just Chyrsalis or Aria,; but Adagio, Sonata, Sunset, and Twilight. They brought that monster here. It's because of them that Apple Bloom is dead."

Soarin sat down beside Rainbow and put his arm around her. "When my mother came to this country; she came illegally. My grandfather brought his family over here in the seventies. It was my abello, abella, mi madre, and mi tio. Tio Jamie. Uncle Hammy as I called him when I went to visit him in prison. When he was twenty, he, he . . . he murdered someone. An ex-girlfriend he didn't want to be his ex.

"The local paper made a big deal out of it. 'Illegals Are Killing Our People', the headlines said. My grandparents got deported. Luckily my mom, mi madre, was already married to my dad, who, well, had connections, so she could stay. Even after twenty-one years, someone would still come up to us and tell us to get out and go back home. It's one of the reasons we finally moved.

"My uncle is a very flawed man. I make excuses for him; but he is not my mom, he is not me, he is not all undocumented immigrants. This Chrysalis, this Aria, they might be Equestrian like Sunset and Twilight, Sonata; but they are not them. They are your friends. I see the way you guys are, they're your best friends. More than that, they brought out the magic in you, the actual magic, not just winning personality." Soarin smiled and gently shook Rainbow.

Rainbow smiled and whiped her eyes with the back of her left hand.

"Jerk," she said with a shakey, tear filled laugh.

"Never claimed to be otherwise," he said with a grin. "I can't help it you have bad judgement."

Rainbow gave him a gentle elbow. "I'll know better next time." Again, another half laugh. Then she grew quiet. "What do I do?" It was a question deep in meaning. What would she do with the pain of Apple Blooms' loss, her pain at Scootaloos' pain of Apple Bloom's loss, her anger, her resentment, her conflicted emotions about her friends. What was she to do about all of that?

"I don't know," Soarin said regretfully. "I just know you can't do it alone. You need your friends, all of them. This is no time to shut anyone out."

"I'm only sixteen," Rainbow said, fresh tears streaming down her face. "I can't do this."

"You're sixteen; but you're also the warrior. An' I hate to say it, but life doesn't care about age. Kids younger than us have and are suffering worse. It's not an answer, it's not a justification; it justs what is. You're not alone though. I've been told my shoulders are pretty broad so if you ever find the weight to be too much to carry, you can put some on to me."

Rainbow laid her head on his shoulder. "Never leave me Soarin. I can't . . ."

"Shh. You're The Warrior."

"And you're my rock."