Applejack knocks at the kitchen door. I know it’s AJ, because nopony else would make it sound like the doors about to fly off the hinges just by knocking.

“I’ll get it,” I say. “Hang on AJ! Be right there!”

Rarity huffs at me as I slowly get up, and walk out toward the door. “Must you shout?”

“Yes, Marshmallow. I must!” I say with my muzzle pointed at the ceiling as I walk out of the room. I give my tail a pretentious little flick right as I walk out the door, that totally would have completed the uppity vibe I was going for if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

AJ brought a wagon full of food with her. Literally. It’s Applebloom’s old wagon, and it’s full.

“What’s all this for?” I ask.

“Just shut up and let me in, would ya?”

“Ok, but don’t let Rarity see that thing in her kitchen.” I move out of the way, and Applejack rolls in.

“I won’t tell, if you won’t.” She says with a wink. AJ looks like she’s been trying to manage applebuck season all by herself again. She’s got dark circles under her eyes. She’s shaking just a little, like pulling the wagon into the kitchen zapped the last energy she had. I pull out a chair for her.

“You want anything?” I ask as she sits down and tosses her stetson on one of the other chairs.

“There’s some cider in the bottom of the wagon; I’ll take one.”

I open the bottle and give it to her. Then I start putting stuff away. I honestly don’t know how I know where stuff goes. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m putting everything away wrong, but I don’t think so. It feels kinda good to be up, and moving, and doing something helpful. “You doin’ ok?” She asks.

“Yeah, for the most part. You?”

“It’s been a rough day.”

“Guards?”

“Knockin’ on the door before the sun was even up. I’m a bit surprised they didn’t try to drag Granny Smith into town with ‘em. Not that she’d go. She told ‘em to stop botherin’ everypony and just get on with whatever they’re gonna do to Mac.”

“She’s really pissed, huh?”

“Yeah, Rainbow. Granny raised me and Mac for the most part. Apples founded this town, and Granny takes pride in knowing that it’s a safe place for ponies. Mac ruined that. Not to mention that she’s hotter than a pepper that he messed with one of my friends.”

“Sorry, AJ.”

“What for Dash? It ain’t your fault.”

“I just don’t like that Granny, and you, and the farm, and Apple Bloom are all getting messed up in this too. It feels like it’s my fault.”

“You sit your rainbow flank down and listen to me,” she scolds me and I do what I’m told. “You know that ain’t true. Thanks to you and Rarity, the farm ain’t behind hardly at all. The fellas that came ‘round today all said they’d keep helpin’ even though we can’t really afford to pay ‘em. They set up a schedule and everything.

“Bloom is alright. She told me what you said this morning- what you said to Scootaloo about not turning on her because of what Mac did. That means a lot Dash.” AJ gives me a long, serious look. It’s one of those times where she could say what she’s actually feeling, but that isn’t her style, so she shakes her head and sips her cider then says, “She’ll be alright.

“Granny is fired up, but she’ll settle and we’ll figure it out. I’d sure like to buck Mac into next week, but that ain’t gonna happen. Other than that I’m just fine. I’m just worried about two of my best friends, and what my fool brother did to them. That’s all.”

That’s a lot of words for Applejack. I try to take a second and take them all in. I keep thinking she’s going to be mad at me. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what, Sugarcube?”

“If I did what he said? If I set him up? If I flirted with him just a little? If I’m totally 100% sure it was Mac? If there isn’t any chance he just did something to bruise my big ego and this is how I’m getting back at him?”

AJ laughs -a full, deep, sad laugh- right in my face. “Sugarcube,” she says wiping a little tear from the corner of her eye, “not to be funny, but you're gayer than a rainbow. Always have been. Mac knew it. Not to mention that it wouldn’t matter if you had set him up, flirted with him, or invited him into the barn with bow wrapped around your ass. You said no, and that should’a been it. No matter what else happened. All it takes is one look at you, and I know the tale their spinnin’ ain’t right. And that manure about Rarity is just a bunch of Flim Flam Foolishness.”

“Do you really believe that, Applejack?” Rare asks from the doorway.

It startles both of us, but AJ recovers quickly. “‘Course I do.” she reaches out to give Rare a side hug. “What I just couldn’t figure when they were askin’ me all them questions today is: why they just can’t believe you could do what you did on your own.”

I think Rares is going to make herself some tea, but she pours a glass of wine instead. “Can I have one?” Rares nods and Applejack gives me the eyebrow. “What? It’s good.”

“I’m blamin’ the head wound,” AJ says holding her sideways glance.

“Ouch.” I exaggerate my wince, which is only half fake.

“Too soon?” she asks a little too seriously with her ears half folded back.

“Maybe a little.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool. It was funny.” Rares puts the glass in front of me and sits across the table from me. “Did you get it done?” I ask.

“Near enough for today,” she sighs.

AJ gives me the same kind of look Pinkie did earlier. Rare is in rough shape and Applejack’s noticed, but it’s not like we can really talk about it right now anyway- not with Rarity sitting right there staring off into the distance through her wine glass. All I can do is nod and hope AJ believes that I’m actually trying to be helpful. AJ glances back over at Rarity, then gives me one more skeptical look before she moves on. “How you feelin’ RD? You look like you’re more bruise than pony..”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how I feel,” I answer with a small shrug.

AJ lowers her head, and her ears fold back. I don’t think she expected me to be so honest. Normally, I’d just say that I’m awesome, and we’d move on. But there’s no point in trying to lie like that right now. Every time I move I can feel where I’m hurt. Leaning in to take a sip from my glass stretches my broken ribs. Sitting on this chair reminds me that my tail end basically got ripped apart. I’m looking across the table at a beautiful unicorn that hasn’t slept in days, because she’s worried I’m going to be attacked by things that go bump in the night. There’s just no point in acting like things aren't fucked up right now. Plus, AJ hates it when I lie.

“I’m sorry, Rainbow,” Applejack says so quietly that I can barely hear her. “More sorry than I’ll ever be able to say.”

“Get your apple-pickin’ eyes off the table and look at me,” I say in a ‘we’re gonna talk about this right now’ tone of voice that I learned from her.

She looks up, and I almost decide to back down. AJ doesn’t cry, but she’s about to. Her eyes have tears at the edges that she’s either too tired or too sad to fight back. I’m getting pretty good at this speech though, so it doesn’t bother me, but I try to make my tone more gentle but not too much gentle because that would piss her off. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize to me for something that isn’t your fault. I don’t wanna hear it, especially from you, because I know it isn’t true. It isn’t your fault. It isn’t Rarity’s fault. It isn’t anypony’s fault except mine and Mac’s. Ok?”

“It isn’t your fault either, Rainbow Dash,” Rare says sharply. She’s glaring at me.

“She’s right, Rainbow,” Applejack says. She’s glaring at me too. She was looking a little better until I got to that last bit of my speech. “If it ain’t my fault for not walkin’ you out of that bar, then it sure as hell ain’t your fault for doin’ nothin’ wrong.”

The water in my eyes is hot, and it burns all the way down my face. I hate that I’m crying before I even have a chance to try and stop it. “I should have flown away,” I say through gritted teeth. “I should have realized he was fucked up and got away. Or, I should have fought back more. I’ve saved Equestria how many times, and I couldn’t fight to save myself?”

“How dare you.” Rares voice is quiet. It bites at me, and I can’t not look at her. “How dare you, Rainbow Dash. How dare you try to take the blame for this. You did nothing wrong. You have done nothing wrong.

“What exactly do you believe you should have done? Had the gift of premonition? Been strong enough to overpower a stallion three times your size? Tried to fly away? If I’m not mistaken, you did that, and he proceeded to crack every bone in your beautiful, powerful wings, which nearly killed you. So, what exactly is it that you are trying to convince yourself you should have done?”

Part of me knows she’s right. The rest of me knows she’s wrong. I am not the mare I thought I was. I’m nothing but a weak, broken, piece of trash that some stallion decided to use as a glory hole. If I wasn’t, then none of this would have happened.

So, I yell at her. I yell the stuff I’ve tried to keep to myself or acknowledge in little ways that make it seem like -even though I was having the thoughts- they were no big deal. I yell with the full fury and hatred I feel for myself right now. “I should have died, Rarity! That’s what I should have done! I should have flapped my useless, stupid wings and died! Then none of us would be in this mess!”

I regret the words the second they are out of my mouth, but there’s no taking them back. They snap through the room like a whip. AJ looks freaked out and sad, but Rarity looks pissed like she’s one-hundred percent ready to fire back at me and tell me how stupid I’m being.

Then, in a blink of her big blue eyes, she shuts down. All of the anger and worry get sucked down inside of her, and perfect control rises in their place. Her face relaxes into that stupid, placid smile of hers. On the surface, her eyes are bright and calm; but behind that, they’re stony; and behind that, there’s rage that I never would have noticed before. But, now I know her well enough not to miss it, which makes me even angrier. We did this dance earlier, and she said she wouldn’t shut down on me again. But the anger only lasts for a second and is quickly replaced by guilt, because I know I deserve it this time.

I wish she would just yell at me. That would be easier to handle. Instead, without saying a word, she stands and puts her glass in the sink. Then she gives AJ a quick nuzzle and says in a crisp, clear, perfectly neutral voice, “Thank you for your help with the groceries Applejack, please let me know what I owe you.”

AJ eyes shift from Rare to me and back again. This is exactly the kind of thing Applejack hates. She’d rather just have everypony say whatever it is they have to say and move on. Thank Celestia, she’s learned over the years that her way doesn’t work for everypony, especially Rarity. So, instead of trying to call Rare out for shutting down, AJ says in her lame attempt at mirroring Rarity’s tone, “Call it payment for Sweetie’s work on the farm today. She really put her effort in.”

“I’m sure she’ll be delighted with the compliment. Thank you. I believe I shall retire for the evening. Please do be careful on your way home, and give Granny my best.”

“You got it. G’night Rarity.”

Then Rare walks around the table and gently nuzzles the top of my head. “Please make sure the doors are locked before you come up.”

“K.” I sound hollow because having her treat me like I didn’t just blow up in her face makes me feel like a foal who just disappointed their mom. It sucks.

We sit and listen to Rarity’s measured hoofsteps as she climbs the stairs. Applejack is looking at me like she can’t decide if she’s going to feel bad for me or punch me in the face for being an idiot. It’s only when we hear the soft thud of Rarity’s bedroom door closing that AJ finally shakes her head and laughs at me again. It isn’t the deep, automatic laugh from earlier. It’s more of a scoff with just a little smirk mixed in. “Boy howdy,” she whistles. “When you blow a gasket, you make sure to take out the whole engine with you, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” I try to sound tough, but it doesn’t work. I didn’t mean to lose my cool with Rarity, but now it’s gone, and I’m not sure how to get it back. And having Applejack laugh at me isn’t helping, especially because it isn’t her real laugh. It isn’t even the laugh she usually uses when I do something dumb or annoying. It’s a weird laugh that’s trying to cover up the fact that she isn’t sure how to react to what just happened.

She leans forward to give me her serious face. “You know it ain’t your fault, right?”

I can’t answer that, because she doesn’t want to hear the real answer. Not really. Because part of me really does think it’s my fault. No matter how many times I think through everything that happened and decide that I didn’t do a damn thing wrong and Mac must have some stuff going on in his brain or something that he should have talked about or something, there’s still that voice whispering in my head. The one that tells me I must have done something. I did something to make it happen. Good stallions don’t just go crazy for no good reason. I did something to deserve it. I must have.

Applejack sits back and gauges my non-answer for a minute. She’s got that face again. Like at the guard station when she decided not to hug me too hard. It’s that face that says things are different now. She never would have let me get away with not answering a direct question before, but now she doesn’t know if she can push me. I hate that face, but I’m also kind of glad she’s making it because I really don’t want to answer her question.

“She saved your life, Rainbow,” she says, obviously deciding to shift gears.

I take a little breath. “I know.”

“She saved your life, and you just yelled at her that you wish she didn’t. You just told her that you’d have all of us cryin’ at your funeral than tryin’ to figure out how to help y’all get through this mess and heal.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

“I know,” Applejack says softly. “That’s why I told you.”

“Thanks.”

“You betcha. Time for me to go?” she starts turning like she’s going to stand up.

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” I ask quickly.

“Why in Equestria would I want to sit around and talk about why you just lost your wheels with Rarity?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant the other thing.”

“Oh…” she rubs the back of her head. Then she stands up and puts a hoof on my shoulder. “I’ll be honest I don’t think I want to know any more than I already do. If you need to tell me, then I’ll listen, but I don’t need to know the nitty-gritty bits to know what happened, Dash.”

“You sure?”

“Yessiree.” She nods firmly. “I already know all I need or want to know for now.”

“If you decide you need to ask…”

“I know where to find you.” She shoves me a little. “Now, I’m gonna get. You alright?”

“Yeah,” I look up at the stairs. “I should go try and say sorry, I guess.”

“You know she ain’t really mad at you, right?” she says in that knowing way only Applejack can manage.

I raise my good eyebrow at her. “You did just see me yell at her, right?”

“Yep.” AJ nods.

“And you saw her go ice queen on me, right?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head this time. “I saw her do the thing all of us got taught in school. I saw her count to ten and walk away before she said somethin’ she’d regret later.”

“Well...shit.”

Now, AJ laughs her real laugh. The one that comes in just a little higher pitch than her normal speaking voice, and sounds just a bit more like a giggle than Applejack will ever admit. “Well,” she says as she puts her hat back on her head. “She’s a prissy little pony, but she’s your prissy little pony now. You’d better go make nice, so you both can get some sleep.” She raises a hoof that I bump as she walks toward the door. “I’ll show myself out.”

“AJ?” I call just before she walks out the door.

“Yeah?”

“Be careful, k?”

We share a look. It only lasts a few seconds, but they’re long seconds, and it’s a serious look. We don’t tell each other to be careful. Applejack is the toughest pony I know, but right now I’m worried about what will happen to her if there’s somepony waiting outside for her. I’m worried that if she isn’t careful, or if I’m not there to look out for her, then something bad is going to happen. I’ve taken the long, looping way home a thousand times just so I could watch over my friends when they were walking home after a party at Pinkie’s. I always make sure everypony gets home safe. It’s kind of my thing, but I can’t do that now, and it freaks me out.

Applejack nods. “You got it.”

Then she’s gone, and it’s just me alone in the kitchen. I put Applejack’s empty bottle in the trash and wash the wine glasses. I even put them away. I lock the door and make sure the door in the shop is locked. It’s early. The sun hasn’t even set yet, which is good. I’d hate to do this in the dark. I make sure the lights are all off and head up the stairs.

Rare is in the shower. She should be singing, but she isn’t. I close the bedroom door behind me and go to the bathroom. The shower curtain isn’t pulled all the way closed. So, she can see me when I stop in the doorway. I should probably say something, but I don’t know what to say yet.

For a few seconds, we just stand in like that with only the noise of the shower to fill the silence. Then she says, “Would you like to get in before the hot water is all gone?”

I nod, and she goes back to washing her mane. I use the step to climb into the tub, while she closes the bathroom door. She moves to the side, so I can step into the water. It’s hotter than I expected, but it feels good. Some of the muscles that are aching from just sitting around all day start to relax, and the other ones that ache for different reasons start to loosen up too- but they don’t stop hurting.

“May I wash your mane?” she asks quietly. Her voice isn’t falsely controlled and polite anymore. She sounds sad, but not upset. The walls she threw up downstairs are already gone.

I nod to her question, but instead of reaching for the shampoo with her magic, she uses her hooves and pulls a bunch of suds out of her own mane and rubs them into mine. How many times have we done this now? Why does it feel like a first? Is it because I’m not freaking out? Because I’m not taking a shower because I feel like I need to wash something off me? Because I just want to be close to her? Why doesn’t it feel weirder that she just shared her shampoo with me? Do I just want to fix what I did downstairs?

The questions flash through my mind and disappear like bubbles popping into nothingness. It feels too good to have her hooves on me to worry about why it feels good. When she’s done with my mane, I step into the water again to rinse.

“Tail?” she asks, and I nod.

“Want me to do yours?” I ask when she’s done lathering my tail, all the while being careful not to pull anything or make me uncomfortable. She was just washing her mane when I walked in, so I know that she hasn’t done the rest of her routine yet. She must have just been standing in the shower for a while calming down. Plus, she had to get her makeup off and stuff.

“If you don’t mind,” she says.

I wrap our tails together for a second then pull mine away slowly, because yanking mine out like I usually do would hurt. Her tail gets covered in the excess soap. It’s a nifty little trick somepony showed me in the shower at Chateau Dash after a date one time.

While I’m working the bubbles through her tail, she makes sure mine is all rinsed out. While she’s rising hers, I look for the body wash. I see the tub of orange industrial stuff, but that isn’t what she uses.

“The lavender one,” she says with a nod toward a tiny little bottle with a flower on it. I pop it open and put a little on her back. Not a lot though, I’m guessing it’s one of those a little goes a long way things, and I’m right. It smells really good. I’m a little surprised she’s letting me do this. There are only a few places on her that I’m too shy to touch, and she takes care of those quickly without making anything weird. Then we switch.

“Would you like the same?” The stuff she used smells good, but it isn’t really me.

“What else you got?”

A basket floats over, and she pulls out a blue bottle this time. It’s gotta be a leftover from a coltfriend, but it doesn’t smell too much like a dude. I like it, so I nod.

It doesn’t even feel she’s trying to get me clean. It’s more like she’s giving me a massage, which she probably is because I’m not really dirty and working out my knots and stuff was one of the things the doctor recommended I do as often as I can. I’m just getting clean as a bonus.

Rarity gives me that warning/asking for permission look, and I nod. Then does the magic thing on my wings so that she can wash my sides. She even asks if I’m ok with her massaging my flanks. I blush a little, but it feels good, and I hurt back there. Plus, it’s not like she hasn’t touched me there before over the past couple of days. She’s calm and professional. It’s like she’s channeling her inner Aloe and Lotus. She doesn’t even smirk at my blush. She just ignores it and lets me keep it to myself.

I feel like a new little pony when I rinse off. The water is starting to get cold, so we get out. She sprays us both down with detangler and leave-in conditioner. I brush her coat while she brushes her mane and tail. Then she brushes me all over.

This is our ritual now, and I’m glad she let me do it. She’s right about there being something calming about it. I know things are messed up, but it doesn’t feel like she’s mad at me. It just feels like she’s tired and a little sad. I know I made her sad, but I’m not the only reason she’s sad, and she isn’t holding what happened downstairs against me. I still feel bad though.

I lean against the doorframe and watch her do something with her mane. I’m guessing whatever she’s doing will make it so she can style her hair the normal way tomorrow. The magical cover-up thing is gone. It’s easy to see her bruises through her white coat; my hoofprints on her chest, my bite at the base of her neck, and the long edge of the bedside table on her back.

“How’s your head?” I didn’t even think about the chunk of glass she had stuck in there last night until now.

“No pain to speak of,” she says. “That maneuver with the mint seems to have done wonders for it. Thank you.”

“No prob.”

She’s put her mane back in a ponytail with a bunch of ribbons or something wrapped and coiled into it. She did it to her tail too. It looks kinda cute like something out of a book about olden pony times- not that I’ve ever read one of those.

She puts some stuff on her face, not the green stuff she always gets at the spa that Applejack tries to eat, a lotion or something. Then her horn lights for a second and the light in the bathroom turns off.

I climb up on the bed and assume the preening position. She starts working my wings open without saying anything, but the silence isn’t bad. There’s still tension though. We aren’t fighting, but we need to talk about what happened, and I know it. So, I finally say, “I’m sorry, Rare.”

She stops what she’s doing to look at me for just a second. “Thank you, darling, but you don’t need to apologize to me.” She nuzzles my side a little then looks back down at my wing before she looks at my face again. “You are allowed to feel whatever feelings you have about what’s happened to you. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. I apologize.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.” I wish I could use my wing to pull her in a little, but she did that magic thing again, so I’m all tingly and mostly numb. I just fidget with my hooves a bit instead. “You were right.”

“You don’t seem terribly convinced.” Of course, she calls me out on my lackluster response. “Regardless of whether or not I am right, which of course I am, it doesn’t matter; if you continue to feel the way you’re feeling that is.”

“I know you’re right.” I try to say the words with awesomeness and conviction, but I can’t manage the lie. Especially with her looking at me like she already knows it’s a lie. “Part of me knows it anyway.”

“And the other part?” she prods gently.

“Thinks it has to be my fault. There’s just no way something like this could happen unless I did something wrong, right?”

“Wrong,” she says firmly. “And I shall remind you of that every day if I must. There is quite literally nothing you could have done to deserve what’s happened to you. There is nothing a pony could do to deserve being raped, Rainbow Dash- not one single thing. Macintosh did this. Heaven only knows why he did it, but the responsibility is his and his alone.” She says the words with such conviction that I almost believe them, but they don’t make me feel better.

“I hate being a victim,” I admit.

“I know.” She lays a careful hoof on my chest for a minute, then reaches up to nuzzle my cheek. Then she nuzzles my side one more time before she starts cleaning my feathers for what must feel like the thousandth time for her.

I’m glad she isn’t trying to make me talk anymore. She isn’t trying to tell me that I’m not a victim or that I shouldn’t be bothered by the fact that there is no explanation for what happened to me. There’s nothing to say, so she isn’t saying anything. That’s another thing I didn’t notice I liked about her before, because it isn’t always true, but sometimes Rarity knows when to stop talking and just let things be what they are.

I think about the day. All of our friends called us out in their own way. AJ and Pinkie seem to think there’s more going on than there is. Rarity and I aren’t together, but we are kinda a unit right now. So, I guess it isn’t surprising that they’d think that. Shy and Twilight have a point about the whole codependent thing- I know that- but they can shove the rest up their combined asses, and I’m going to tell them so when I see them.

Pinkie said I need to tell Rarity that I feel safe with her. I need to tell her when she’s doing something right. I try to imagine what I’d need to hear if I was the one taking care of her. I’d want to know that I wasn’t screwing shit up. Like brushing her mane or whatever. That stuff matters to Rarity. If I had to take care of her, I’d want to know that she thought I was doing a good job taking care of the things that matter to her.

The problem is that I can’t just tell Rarity she’s doing a good job and not really mean it. It’d be like somepony trying on a dress they don’t really like and telling her that they love it. Rare can spot that kind of bullshit from a mile away, and she doesn’t want it. She wants her work to be just right, and that’s the kind of thing that shows on a pony’s face way more than in anything they say. But, I suck at trying to show that kind of stuff. So, I say, “Thanks for doing such an awesome job on my wings,”

She spits a broken feather into the little pile and shrugs. There aren’t as many coming out as there were this morning, and almost none of them are bloody. “I’m sure you or Fluttershy could do a better job, but I am trying my best.”

“Fluttershy sucks at preening.”

“Oh?” Rares asks, quirking an eyebrow at me, before going back to work.

“Yeah. She’s tried to help me out a couple of times, after adventures or stuff, but she sucks. She’s too worried about hurting me, so she kinda just ruffles things around. I always end up in worse shape than when she started. Plus, she just doesn’t care about her wings like that. I mean, she takes good care of them I guess, but sometimes going to the spa is the only time she preens in a week.”

“That is abnormal?”

“Kinda. I usually preen twice a day. Gotta keep things Wonderbolt ready, right?” I feel a little twinge in my chest when I say that and remember my letter on its way to Spitfire to end my career. “That’s a bit much for most pegasi. But usually, it’s at least every other day or something. Twilight is way worse though.”

Rares laughs a little.

“I’m serious,” I go on. “She spent so much time being a ground pony that it’s like she forgets she even has wings sometimes. If she ever seriously needed to fly and her wings were like that, she could hurt something.”

That’s the second when she bites my main wing joint just enough to make it pop. “Sweet Celestia, that feels good!” She’s got this cute little smile on her face now. The same smile she gets when I’m trying on a dress that looks awesome, but I don’t want her to see how excited I am about it, because that’s not cool.

While she’s switching to the other side I ask, “Rare, would it be ok if I asked Fluttershy to bring Tank over? I miss his little wrinkled head.”

“Of course. He’s a perfect playmate for Opal. Much more robust than the others.” That’s true. Opal and Tank almost always end up playing together at our pet play dates.

“Cool, thanks.”

“Will he need anything? I could arrange the sweetest little bed for him next to Opal’s. Wouldn’t you like that Opalescence?” The cat must have heard her name because she just jumped up on the bed and tucked herself in next to my face. Now she’s flicking my muzzle with her tail.

“Hey!” I twitch my nose to try and keep from sneezing. “Fluffball! Not cool!”

Rares giggles at me. “You are truly unique, Rainbow. She likes you. She doesn’t like anypony. She isn’t even that playful with Fluttershy.”

“She likes you,” I say trying to keep the fluffy tail out of my mouth as I talk.

“She finds me useful,” Rare muses. “But I’m rarely certain she feels much more appreciation for me than that. Now, Opal, stop teasing Dashie. She’s in no position to tolerate your shenanigans, you silly thing.”

Opal stops swishing her tail in my face and hops up on my stomach instead like I’m a cloud and she’s gonna take a nap.

“Great.” I roll my eyes at the cat. “Thanks for that, Rare.”

“It’s the best that could reasonably be expected of her, darling.”

I scratch behind Opal's ear while Rares finishes my wing. “Would you like to stay like that for a while?” she asks when she’s done.

“Yeah, It feels really good to have them out. How do they look?”

“Awful,” she sighs looking down at them. “I’ve tried to hide as many of the holes as I can, but there are a few I just can’t do anything about.”

“It’s cool, Rare. Thanks for taking care of them. You’re honestly the best preening buddy I’ve ever had.”

“You’re very welcome.” She blushes a little, and I realize how what I said must have sounded. Good thing, there’s no reason to tell her that I haven’t had many, or really any, other preening buddies.

“How long until the feathers start growing back?” she asks after another minute.

“Some of the smaller ones should start showing in the next couple days. Primaries can take a month. It’s going to itch like crazy to regrow this many all at once.”

“Hmmm. I’ll ask Aloe and Lotus if they have any recommendations for speeding the process along and helping with the itching. Would that be alright with you?”

“Sure.”

“Would you like a snack?” she offers as she jumps down off the bed.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“Sweet or salty?”

“Yes.” That gets me an eye roll. Then she kisses my head and leaves the room. Opal follows her out.

I focus on the feel of her magic while she’s gone. It feels a little different today like she isn’t holding on quite so tight. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

She comes back with a bag of chips, a plate of cookies, and two wine glasses. “Drinking again?” I ask.

“Yes, well. I didn’t really get to enjoy my last glass, did I?” She’s trying to tease me, but I still feel bad for yelling at her.

“Sorry about that.”

She has a cookie in her mouth and brings it to me. “It’s really alright, darling. I knew it would happen eventually,” she says as she climbs up on the bed.

I want to ask what she knew, but I have a mouth full of cookie, so I can’t. I just raise an eyebrow and hope she gets it. Meaningful looks are a Rarity thing, so she does.

“According to many of the psychology books I’ve read over the years, anger is a natural component in emotional healing. You have been swallowing your anger and pain an awful lot over the past few days, as have I. Thus, our little yelling match doesn’t seem so terribly inappropriate after all.

“Do you forgive me?” She bats her eyes and gives me a sickly sweet and innocent look.

“No,” I say blandly. The look on her face is surprising. I thought she’d be insulted, but she looks devastated instead. “I don’t need to forgive you Marshmallow,” I say quickly because I’m not sure if she’s still teasing me or not. “I need to get yelled at sometimes, so thank you.”