I’m not quite asleep when it happens, but I’m awake enough to know that I’m not dreaming. I know where I am. I even know why it’s happening. I just can’t make it stop.

My heart races, thudding against my chest like I’ve been sprinting for hours. My wings are twitching, painfully begging for the sky at the same time every muscle and bone is screaming at me that there is no way I’m getting off the ground right now. Every single nerve in my body is saying that I need to fly away, but I can’t because it hurts.

I can’t breathe. I’m twisted up in a blanket that feels like a solid metal snake coiling around me and trying to squeeze to death. The more I try to twist away, the more tangled I get.

I need to get out of here.

A sound comes from across the darkness. It’s a beautiful sound. In my panic, I only know that the sound means safety and that it came from the bathroom. I manage to rip myself from the blanket and flap my wings. I only flap once, but I know I’m going to pay for it. I feel the fresh crack of bones that were trying to heal, but I don’t care. The second it takes me to cross the room is too long.

Rarity was doing her hair. She notices me rocketing toward her just in time to put the brush down and try to brace herself. I crash into her harder than I mean to, and we slam back into something that quickly collapses after the impact.

I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s like I’m searching for something right in front of me that I can’t see. I’m just trying to find my safe place. Rare is saying something. I know she’s trying to talk to me, but I can’t hear her. I have to find what I’m looking for, but I don’t know what it is. I know she can help me, but I don’t know how. She can help me get away, but I don’t know how to let her, so I keep trying to find whatever it is I’m looking for and mumbling any nonsense I can manage to get out of my mouth.

Somehow, she understands. Her hooves grab my head and pull me forward. The gentle force freaks me out at first, but then there’s that spot on my head. The second I feel that familiar pressure it’s like I can suddenly take a deep, painful breath.

She lets go, and I kind of collapse on top of her. Suddenly, I’m aware of the fact that I’m being poked in the ribs by wood of some sort, and that there’s an awful lot of sweet smells going on. I think we broke a shelf or something. I don’t have the brain capacity to figure out which one though. The only thing I think about is that place on my head.

“I’m here, Rainbow,” Rarity whispers as she runs a hoof through my mane. “I’m right here.”

I think maybe I screamed her name when I flapped my wings before. I’ve definitely been mumbling it for the past few seconds without realizing it.

“Breathe with me, Rainbow,” she says in that calm, controlled, soothing voice. “Just breathe with me.”

The spot on my head rises and falls a little. I force myself to follow and breath in time with her rhythm.

“Well done, darling.” Her voice is a little louder and more confident now. “Now, take your time and come back to me. I’m right here.”

Rarity keeps stroking my mane as the panic slowly melts away. We’re in a pile of bottles and broken wood. I slammed her into the thing in the corner where she keeps all her products.

“Sorry, Rare,” I finally manage to mumble.

“It’s alright,” she says, nuzzling me between the ears. “It won’t take but a moment to fix.”

The room starts getting bigger and brighter as it comes back into focus.

“You’re going to have new bruises now, aren’t you?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m afraid I will.” She sighs with just a tiny bit of her normal dram. “This dreadful pelt of mine doesn’t hide a thing. Not to worry, I’ve become most adept at keeping minor discolorations to myself.”

“Still sucks. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for Rainbow. These things do happen from time to time.” She shifts her head to nuzzle me again, then rests her head back in the same, comforting spot. “Are you alright?” She doesn’t sound quite as controlled this time. I can actually hear that she’s worried now.

“Yeah.” I try to burrow into that spot on my head a little more. “I got stuck between being asleep and being awake.” I can’t find the words to explain exactly what happened, so I don’t try and just say lamely, “It freaked me out.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” she answers. “You were sleeping so soundly. I thought I’d just get ready while you rested a bit.”

That’s what woke me up. She was humming, and I wanted to listen.

“It’s cool, Rares.” I take a deep breath and try to force my still racing heart to settle. We stay like that for a while, just breathing together while she absently runs a hoof through my mane and waits for me to get myself together.

When everything is calm, and the silence is starting to turn from peaceful to weird, she says, “Would you like to go back to bed for a little while? It’s still very early.”

“Come with me?” I ask pulling back to look pathetically at her face. I don’t really mean to look pathetic. I’m just sure I do. Asking her to be my security blanket is so not cool, but I’ve pretty much given up on trying to be cool for the time being.

“Of course.” She nuzzles me then helps me up. A quick flash of her magic instantly fixes all the shit I just broke. Some part of my brain wonders if that was impressive or if anypony could have done it. I’m guessing fixing the shelf, and all of those little bottles, and putting everything back where it belonged in just a second was probably pretty impressive. It didn’t look like a big deal though, so I really have no idea.

Then she follows me out of the bathroom and back to the bed. We curl around each other, so our heads rest on each other’s backs. It’s nice. We’re close enough that I feel all of the comfort, but from this angle, I don’t have to look at her face and feel the weight of her worry.

“Did you sleep?” I ask.

“For a few hours,” she says trying to sound like a few hours is all she ever needs.

“What happened?”

“I woke up in the dirt,” she pouts.

It just sounds like such a Rarity thing to say that I have to laugh. “That’s what happens when you fall asleep outside, Marshmallow.”

“False,” she snaps with just a little sarcasm. “It’s what happens when somepony steals the blanket all for themselves.”

“Sorry,” I say, and I honestly mean it. She isn’t the first pony to tell me that I’m a blanket hog, but it’s not like I can help it.

“It’s alright.” She nuzzles me. “You looked rather adorable, wrapped up like a little foal. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I had a good dream,” I answer without thinking.

“Oh?” She perks up curiously. “Care to share?”

“Nope.” I shake my head and try to fill my voice with my usual coolness. “I’m good.”

She shrugs. “If you say so.” It’s one of those double-sided Rarity responses. She’s obviously curious, but she’s going to act like not knowing doesn’t bother her at all, which is fine by me. It takes a minute, and she glances at me sideways a couple of times before she gives up on hoping that I’ll open up about the dream.

“Did you hurt yourself?” she finally asks in a completely different, concerned tone.

“Maybe...” I close my eyes and do a quick inventory. “Not too bad though. I just bought myself an extra couple days of ground time is all.”

“Perhaps we ought to wrap your wings while you sleep?” she suggests.

“Yeah, I was going to ask you to do that anyway. All the new feathers are going to drive me nuts.”

“Would you like to take care of that now?”

“Might as well.”

We say the words, but we don’t move. I love preening, and Rare is good at it, but it’s getting annoying. It’s like running. I love running just to run, but when it’s something I have to do, then I start to hate it. It’s irritating to have something I like so much turning into something that I feel like avoiding.

It’s also irritating that I fell asleep actually feeling ok about life- sad about all my stupid feelings, but ok with life otherwise- and woke up not knowing my own fucking name. Rare slept. That should be an awesome thing, but it feels like there’s no way she slept long enough and... it feels like it’s my fault. Plus, I can’t help but I wonder if she got up early because I freaked her out being all clingy in the middle of the night.

“What’s wrong, Rainbow?”

“Nothing,” I answer automatically and try to relax my face, so whatever feelings she was able to pick up on aren’t showing anymore.

Her body goes stiff. “Please don’t lie to me,” she says crisply. “If you prefer not to discuss it, then that’s fine. Please just don’t ask me to ignore my instincts when I know something is bothering you.”

I take a deep breath. Of course, she picked up on my mood. Of course, she called me out for trying to hide stuff from her. Maybe she wouldn’t have before, but I basically got on her case for doing the same thing yesterday. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“Apology accepted.” She nuzzles my neck a little, and I feel her relax. All the tension from a minute ago totally disappears, so I relax too.

“Everything is just all fucked up,” I say because I know that I really should talk about some of the stuff. And, she’s the pony I want to talk to about most of it. I don’t really want to deal with being told not to swear or whatever, but maybe it will be worth it to get some of the messy feeling stuff out of me.

She sighs wearily and seems to lean on me a little more. “That is certainly an understatement. Are there specific items in the fuckery that are bothering you?”

I smile and roll my eyes. Fuckery. How did Rares turn fuck into a prissy word? It doesn’t even sound like a curse word when she says it, which is good because it sounds weird when she swears. Part of me wants to laugh, but the rest of me feels too heavy. I started talking and now I feel like I can’t shut up.

“I can’t make it stop, Rare.” My eyes start to burn in frustration, and my voice cracks a little. “Even when I know what’s going on.

“I knew I was freaking out this morning. I knew where I was and what was happening, but I went crashing into shit anyway. It’s like, I get just a second of feeling like me, and then it’s happening all over again. I hate what’s happening to me, but I feel bad for Mac. It feels like that with everything.

“I don’t know how to feel like this. I’m not you. I don’t know how to handle of this stuff and it’s confusing, which just makes me feel that much more messed up, you know?”

I keep waiting for her to interrupt, or to say something shallow and cliche that’s supposed to make me feel better but doesn’t. She doesn’t do that. She just listens.

“I’m not a complicated pony,” I ramble on. “I feel my feelings, or I don’t, and I move on. I can’t do that with this. It won’t go away, and it keeps coming back when I’m not ready. It’s like a freaking quarray eel waiting to snap at me when I’m not looking.”

I didn’t mean to admit all of that to her. In the back of my mind, part of me is laughing at myself for being such a pansy-cake, but that part gets totally drowned out by the rest of me that feels grateful that I have somepony to lay with me and listen to the things I can’t say to anypony else.

“It won’t always be like this, Dashie,” she says gently after a few minutes of silence.

“How do you know?” I meant to snap-back at her, but my question comes out sounding like a foal asked it.

She lifts her head and starts stroking my mane absentmindedly again. “The same way you do.” She shrugs. “Life. It never stays the same, does it? You will never be the same Rainbow Dash you were before this terrible ordeal, and you won’t always be the Rainbow Dash you are right now. Your wings will heal. Your bruises will fade. You will walk down the streets of some big city with your friends and nopony will suspect what you’ve been through, despite the scars you carry.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Her words carry a lot more weight than they should. I look back to see that her eyes are distant like she’s staring down a dark tunnel toward something only she knows well enough to be afraid of. “Rare?”

She shakes herself out of the trance and meets my gaze. She gives me that brave little smile of hers and says, “Blueblood didn’t just have bad manners, Rainbow.”

I flinch and try to sit up, but she rests her hoof firmly on the middle of my back to keep me where I am. When I stop trying to move, she goes back to playing with my mane. She’s staring at the strands of green and purple sliding across her hoof when she says, “It didn’t get nearly as far as your situation. He was a brute, and he did hurt me but there is simply no comparison to be made between my experience and yours.”

She looks me in the eye again. “I allowed myself to be taken advantage of in some ways that night for which I shall ever be ashamed. You, on the other hoof, have done absolutely nothing wrong. I can’t know what you’re feeling. I only know that I thought I would never be able to show my face in public again. Then not all that long after, I was standing next to him smashing a bottle across an airship’s nose. Life moves on, Dashie. In time, so will you, if you care for yourself properly.”

I just stare at her for a while. This time when I move to sit up, she lets me go and I turn to face her. She takes my hoof and starts tracing patterns on my foreleg in a comforting kind of way. She’s gone back to not looking at me, but she’s obviously trying to comfort me. I say the only thing I can think of, “I didn’t know.”

“Nopony does,” she assures me. “Not even Fluttershy.” Rarity almost shrinks in front of my eyes. “I couldn’t bear to tell her.”

That night at the donut shop after the Gala comes back to me. Rare was laughing right along with the rest of us. She was relieved. We all were. That night sucked. Getting there and being together like we should have done all night was like finally getting to take a breath after being underwater.

Part of me always blamed Rarity for how things went down with Blueblood that night. She didn’t know anything about him, but she threw herself at him anyway. Except, now that I think about it, she really didn’t. She showed up at a fancy party in a nice dress and tried to spend some time getting to know a pony that wasn’t worth getting to know. She’s Rarity, so she gave him way more chances than he deserved, but really she didn’t do anything to deserve getting treated like crap. And she really didn’t do anything to deserve whatever else he did to her.

“I’m sorry, Rare.” I’m not sure if I’m apologizing for what happened to her or for blaming her for it for so many years.

“Thank you,” she says wiping her eye just a little. Then she clears her throat and says, “I hope you know that I wasn’t trying to elicit your pity or diminish your pain. I merely meant to say that I know from experience how time can heal some of these wounds, even if it can’t heal all of them. ”

“It’s cool. I get it.” I lean forward and she nuzzles me. When she pulls back, I ask, “So, what do I do now?”

“You keep getting up in the morning, darling.” She shrugs as if the answer is obvious. “That’s all there is really. Occasionally, you stay in bed and eat ice cream or drink some wine. But, generally, you wake up, put yourself together, and do what must be done. Then one day you’ll look in the mirror and realize that you’ve survived a month or a year, and you can’t remember the last time you felt like you do right now.”

“So, I just fake it til I make it?”

“Essentially.”

I wait a beat then say, “Sounds like bullshit to me.”

She rolls her eyes at me.

“The ice cream and wine thing didn’t sound too bad though,” I say with a hopeful lift to my voice.

“We have Princesses visiting, an advocate to meet, wings to preen and wrap, friends to check on, sisters to supervise, books to read, a defense to prepare, and pets to entertain. Which of those items do you propose we explain away first?”

“You suck,” I pout.

She shrugs. “But I do it with such fabulosity that nopony seems to mind.”

“You still suck.”

“And yet you haven’t tried to tell me that I’m wrong.” There’s that smile. That “My name’s Rarity and I know everything, so you might as well just do what I tell you.” smile.

“Because you suck,” I say again as if that is all the defense I need.

“Very well,” she says with a sigh as she hops off the bed and walks over to her vanity. “Stay in bed all day. Eat all the ice cream. Drink all the cider. Just don’t blame me when your inability to get off the ground has nothing to do with your wings, and everything to do with your own poor choices.”

“You. Suck,” I say again as she walks back with the wing oil, because her stupid, innocent, don’t-blame-me, prissy, reverse psychology, bullshit mind tricks totally work.

“Isn’t it wonderful? Now roll over. Let’s get these wings taken care of first thing. I shan’t be providing anypony evidence to accuse me of neglecting your care today,” she says hopping back up on the bed.

“Yeah, because you don’t need that on your rap sheet too,” I say as I roll over.

“Exactly. Although,” she muses, “I do believe I would have a strong case for an affirmative defense on that one as well.” Then she starts working on my wings.

“Whatever,” I mumble as I squirm to get comfortable. “I hate your lawyer by the way.”

“So, I noticed,” she says after licking a feather into place.

“You did?”

She giggles and rolls her eyes at me. “You aren’t the most subtle pony I’ve ever met, Dash.”

“Sorry.”

“Oh, I’ve quite enjoyed it. Contra Forma has always been a bit abrasive, as well as being a bit obvious in her appreciation of my flank. It just doesn’t do well in my industry to offend potential resources for such trivial offenses. She’s harmless.”

“I thought Mac was harmless.” It’s an instant response, and so is hers.

“Not everypony is Mac, Rainbow.”

“It doesn’t bug you when ponies look at you like that?”

She shrugs again. “Did getting ogled bother you before all this happened?”

The short answer is: no. It didn’t bother me at all. It was kind of awesome. I knew I looked good, and it was funny any time I could catch somepony checking me out. That seems so fucking stupid now.

Does that mean I think Rarity is stupid for not getting in Contra’s face and telling her to back off? No. I don’t think Rares is doing anything wrong. I don’t like her lawpony because she’s pushy, and I don’t like knowing that she seems to think it’s ok to treat Rarity like eye candy without even trying to hide it. I just don’t trust that pony.

It didn’t matter if ponies checked me out before. I wasn’t walking around asking myself if I trusted everypony that looked at me, because I knew even if somepony tried something I didn’t like then I could handle myself. I think I still know that about most ponies.

I never felt like I needed to know that about Mac. It’s Mac! He put on a fucking dress so he could sing with Apple Bloom that one time. Yeah, he’s huge, but he’s Mac! Plus, it’s not like he ever looked at me like that. Maybe he did, but I never noticed. I did catch him looking at Fluttershy a couple of times though. Fluttershy, who never wanted attention from anypony.

I fluff my feathers in anger without thinking, and Rarity huffs at me. “I just fixed those.”

When did she get over there? Did I really zone out for a whole wing and not notice her switch sides?

Yep.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright. I apologize for snapping at you. You were obviously deep in contemplation.”

“Yeah.”

“Care to discuss?”

Not really, but I don’t know how many times I get to say I don’t want to talk about stuff before Rarity will start getting pushy. I try to keep my voice even, but there’s still an angry quaver to it. “He used to look at Fluttershy, Rare.”

“And now you know why she’s so upset,” she answers like I’ve finally caught up to something I should have figured out days ago.

“Because she thinks it should have been her?”

“Perhaps,” Rare lifts her mouth away from my wing and looks at me carefully, measuring me to see how much she thinks she can say without upsetting me too much. “Or, possibly she believes he went after you for being attracted to mares because she finally started showing her feelings for Twilight.”

His words again ring through my memory again, but suddenly they sound totally different and they make a lot more sense.

How do you know you don't like a stallion? Ever give one a shot?

Oh come on. You don’t even know. You might really like it if you tried it.

I promise I’m going to be real gentlelike. I’m going to show you that a stallion can be just as nice as a filly.

Ain’t I been nice? Didn’t I hold you close and kiss you like you wanted?

“I think I’m going to be sick.” I barely make it to the open window and spew my guts out onto one of Rarity’s bushes. Every lurch and heave of my stomach makes me think about him. I remember wanting to throw up on him. I can feel the hot, grimy feeling of him on my coat and the burning fullness of him ramming me from the inside; but now the memory is all flipped around in my head and instead of me it’s happening to Fluttershy while I watch.

“I’m gonna kill him,” I say with the one breath I can catch between the convulsions in my stomach. I almost fall out the window a couple of times, but Rarity holds onto me and keeps my mane out of my face. When it finally stops, I’m crying and not just because I threw up.

Rares snags a few mint leaves for me from the bathroom to get rid of the taste of bile. She also brings a wet washcloth and wipes my face.

“Thanks.”

“Of course,” she answers, wiping my mane away from my face.

“I need to talk to her,” I say with a sudden sense of urgency. It all finally makes sense now. I finally get why Flutters has been so messed up about all of this, and I need to tell her that it isn’t her fault. “I need to say sorry.”

“I’m sure she and Twilight will be with the Princesses when they come by,” Rare says calmly. “You can talk to her then.”

“You really think she’ll come?”

“Without question.” She gives me a look like she’s surprised by my question. “You are her oldest and dearest friend, Rainbow. There’s nothing you could do that would keep her away for long. She isn’t the slightest bit angry with you. On the contrary, I daresay she’s more worried than she’s ever been. And for our darling Fluttershy, that is quite an accomplishment.”

“K.” I take a breath and let myself relax just a little bit. It feels like my brain is still in overdrive, trying to catch up to all of the new information. One thing is standing out though- even though Shy’s reaction makes more sense now. “I’m still pissed about what she said to you.”

“Yes, well… perhaps you ought to talk to her about it.” Rarity is doing that overly controlled thing. The one that drives me nuts, but I know is right. I don’t want to talk to Shy about it. I don’t get mad at Fluttershy. Nopony really gets mad at Fluttershy.

“Is this how it felt to be jealous of her?”

“It was similar, I imagine.”

We just sit for a few minutes, and it’s one of those times that I fill with looking at her. She’s got new bruises from this morning. She didn’t get to finish styling her mane, and I’ve spent enough time with her now to notice the difference. She did her makeup today though. It blends better than when she does it by magic. It looks more natural, but I don’t think anypony would notice the difference unless they saw her up close every day. She looks better but still tired. She still looks good though.

I’m pretty positive that thing in the middle of the night wasn’t a dream. I wonder if she’s going to say anything about it, or if she’s just going to write it off as a symptom of my life turning to shit.

“Shall we wrap your wings up now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

The doctor wasn’t just being nice when she said that Rarity is good at all this medical stuff. She wraps my wings individually and my ribs in one giant bandage. Part of me feels confined and freaked out, but the other part loves the pressure. I feel like I can move and breathe without making anything worse.

“Did you make this wrap thing? It’s huge.”

“I did.” She smiles proudly. “The medical text suggested interweaving three smaller pieces, but that just seemed silly.”

“You should go back to the hospital and show the doc. If they don’t have something like this in the Cloudsdale hospital, they should.”

“I think it would prove rather ungainly for a pegasus to try and manage.”

That’s true. It’s too long to work around by hoof very easy. The only way for it to work is for a unicorn to put it on a pegasus, and usually, ponies go with doctors of the same tribe just because it’s convenient.

“Still, it’s worth a shot.”

“Perhaps.”

“When exactly did you make this?” It seems weird that she just happened to have the perfect thing for my injuries.

“I had a little time while you were sleeping.”

“Seriously?” The thing was perfect. It looked like a machine made it.

“Wait a second.” I’m having a memory of her talking about being able to run the sewing machine even if she’s in a different room. “You made it without looking at it?”

“For the most part,” She says it like I asked if the sky is blue. Like it’s no big deal. Like anypony could do it if they tried. “It’s just a length of fabric, Dashie, not haute couture.”

“Still…”

“You are too easily impressed, darling.” She kisses my cheek. “All done. Breakfast?”

“Yeah, ok.”

Breakfast is coffee, apples and warmed chocolate croissants.

I feel dumb, but I have to ask the question again. “Rarity, how good at magic are you?”

She’s sipping her coffee, and sketching something that she isn’t really happy with. “Hmmm?” she says. She isn’t really paying attention. “Oh, really, I’m nothing special magically speaking. I did get a little magical boost when we recovered the Elements that took some time getting used to, but it was a wave that washed away rather quickly.”

“So, any unicorn mare in town could’ve picked Mac up and chucked him like a sack of flour?”

“Certainly not, Rainbow Dash. Very few unicorns in Equestria could come close to accomplishing such a feat,” Princess Celestia says from the back door.