Rare shows me the first bottle of stuff: dry shampoo. Considering we didn’t actually wash anything during our bath, this one makes some sense. She rubs it into my mane and tail with her hooves, always giving me a look and waiting for me to nod before she touches a new place. Somehow, she manages to apply pressure and work the stuff through my mane and tail without pulling on anything enough to hurt.

The next thing is some kind of detangler/conditioner that she spritzes all over me. The spray tickles my nose and I recognize the smell from when she used it on herself earlier.

“I’ve always been fascinated by your mane,” she says as she starts brushing my mane by hoof again. My mane has already been brushed more today than I’ve brushed it in the last month or more, but Rarity doesn’t seem to care about that and she doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to stop.

“You and everypony else.” I shrug and flick a little strand back off my face.

“Family trait?”

“Yeah. My dad’s got it. I think one of my great-grandmares had it too.”

“Hmm.”

She works quietly for a while then moves to my tail. I take a chance and look in the mirror. The swelling in my eye is starting to go down a bit, but the bruise is just starting to surface. It’s going to be one nasty black eye. I’m sure Rare has makeup in my shade in case of fashion emergencies or whatever, but I’m not sure even Rarity will be able to cover up something this bad. My mane is flat, but it looks awesome. It’s all smooth and a shiny. The colors look better than they have in a long time too. Maybe that’s just because Rarity’s bathroom has better lighting than mine, or maybe it’s because I’m actually looking at it for more than half a second.

Without thinking, I fluff my feathers to see how their doing, which is stupid because it hurts a lot. I’ve been cradling my wings pretty much all day without even thinking about it, so the main joints are stiff. Plus, the extra tension isn’t helping with the soreness at all. So, the smallest absent minded movement feels like needles stabbing all over my wing and like things inside are ripping apart all over again.

Rares catches my eye in the mirror when I flinch. “I’m ok,” I groan. “I just forgot for a sec that my wings aren’t feeling as awesome as my mane looks.”

Her big blue eyes give my wings a sad little look. “They’ll feel better soon,” she reassures me. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

“About what?”

She shows me another bottle. Dry shampoo again but this one is for coats instead of manes. According to the bottle, there are at least four serious differences between this stuff and the stuff she just used. Then she shows me another one. It’s some sort of oil or ointment for ‘soothing and healing minor injuries.’ I nod at both of them and she goes to work with the shampoo first massaging it gently into my coat but carefully avoiding my wings.

“Well,” she says as she moves from my chest around to my shoulder. “I read somewhere that flying is a key component in the healing process for a pegasus.”

“Yeah. It’s got something to do with pegasus magic interacting with the air and clouds. It’s pretty rare to see a pegasus that flies regularly with a bruise. They just don’t stick around if you fly enough.”

“Will your bruises remain until you start flying?”

“Depends.” I look at the bruises on my neck that are starting to change color a little bit. They look darker than they did this morning. “The doc said I’m at least a month away from flying. I won’t heal as fast an earth pony or unicorn, since I can’t fly, but if I eat right and stuff then most of these should be gone by the time I can get back in the air. I don’t have to fly to heal. It just makes it go quicker.”

“Perhaps we can ask Twilight to do some research about using unicorn magic to help heal pegasi injuries? I’m sure it’s been attempted, but I’m not certain of the crossover. What do you think?”

I don’t answer right away, which makes her quirk her eyebrow at me in the mirror. “I think I’m pissed at Twilight,” I blurt out, “and don’t want to ask her for anything.”

“I know she-”

“No. You don’t.”

“What exactly did she do that I don’t know about, Rainbow?”

I know what Rarity is going to say. She’s going to be all reasonable and fair-minded and generous and say that Twilight was just explaining stuff to Spike at the guard station. She’s going to remind me we both know whose side Twilight is really on in all of this. She’s going point out that I’m not being fair, and she’ll be right, but I’m not ready to just get over feeling like Twi’s been acting shitty. So, I find a really interesting pattern on the floor and mumble, “Nothing.”

“Oh, forgive me for misunderstanding, darling,” she laughs and presses a hoof lightly to her chest. “What you’re saying is that the bearer of the Element of Loyalty is just harboring a grudge against one of her best friends for no particular reason whatsoever?”

“Yep.” For half a second, I let myself believe that Rarity is just going to let it go. She’s backed off of enough other stuff in the past twenty-four hours that it could be a legitimate possibility. Except that when I look up and meet her knowing gaze in the mirror, she might as well have a giant, flashing sign that says ‘not letting this one go!’

“What did she say about me, Dash?” she says without a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

I don’t answer. I just grit my teeth and look down at the floor again.

When Rarity is done with the shampoo, she puts some of the oil stuff on the body brush. Then she starts brushing my neck. It feels really good. Tender in a few spots, but Rarity is being really careful. I close my eyes and let a little part of my brain be even more angry at Twilight for what she said about Rarity. Rares is awesome and anypony that says different is going to have to deal with me.

“Shall I guess?” she says ending my little moment of quiet, isolated anger.

I ignore her.

“It didn’t have anything to do with explaining why I’m being charged with assault, did it?”

My tail flicks in irritation without permission from my brain. It hurts and it gives me away.

“Do you really think Twilight believes that I deserve to be convicted of assault?”

Still not answering. Focusing on the brushing.

“Rainbow…” She sounds exasperated with me now.

“What Rarity?” I snap back. “I’m supposed to just be ok with her making it sound like you deserve to get in trouble for helping me? I’m supposed to be ok with her defending Mac’s right to go after you like that? I’m supposed to be ok with the idea that he gets to try and ruin your life too? Is that how I’m supposed to feel? I’m just supposed to be ok that she’s not just on my side because she's so busy being all logical and reasonable all the damn time?” My voice cracks and I look down at the floor again. Angry tears are rolling down my face and my coat is bristling, making the steady brush strokes totally pointless.

Rare doesn’t care. She just keeps brushing. When she finally answers, it’s an honestly calm, patient, and understanding voice. “No, Rainbow. I don’t expect you to be comfortable with any of that. However, the Dash I know and love cares for her friend enough to be more forgiving.

“Twilight believes in order and in the importance of rules, but she doesn’t want me dragged in front of a court of law any more than you do and you know it. Furthermore, you also know that it’s confusing and uncomfortable for her to disagree with something like this.

“Most importantly, you know that Twilight is probably already spending every possible moment in her library working on my defense or finding some precedent to keep me out of the situation altogether.

“I daresay she expected Celestia would simply save you and me from all this mess, and when she didn’t Twilight did as she always does and followed Celestia’s instructions without question. I can’t say I understand the Princess’s reasoning just yet, but I’m sure it will all come to light in due time. For the time being, I agree with Twilight that it is better to have this all handled properly the first time to save ourselves from being perpetually pulled back into the mire for the sake of silly mistakes.

“It’s been a difficult day for all of us, Rainbow. We all know that Twilight can hide behind recitation in moments of duress. Logic and reason are her first lines of defense. They are cold and brutal defenses sometimes but they are how she gets through.”

She pauses to sweep my mane from one shoulder to the other and starts brushing again. “I don’t expect you to do anything but get through each moment,” she says quietly, “but I do think you’ll be very disappointed if you allow yourself to do lasting damage to your relationship with Twilight simply because she is confused about how to handle all of this.”

She starts rebrushing the sections I messed up by getting mad, applying more of that oil stuff to the brush every few strokes.

“You suck, Marshmallow,” I say after allowing myself another minute to pout. The smile only happens in her eyes and it’s only for a second, but she’s so obviously pleased with herself that I roll my eyes and mutter, “Damn Element of Generosity. You could have let me stay mad for five minutes.”

“What was that, dear?” Her voice is way too sweet, way too innocent. The victorious look in her eyes is masked with perfect innocence too. So, even though I know she heard me, there’s no point in trying to call her out about it.

“Whatever,” I mumble. “I was planning on telling her sorry tomorrow anyway.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” she laughs a little and lightly shoves my shoulder. “In that case, an evening of well-deserved effrontery is perfectly appropriate. That bitch,” she says in the same bright tone.

A bark of laughter bursts suddenly from my chest and makes my ribs ache. “Don’t swear, Marshmallow,” I chuckle, “It doesn’t sound right.”

“Speaking of…” she says in that leading tone of hers.

“Yeah, yeah. Flutters is on the list for tomorrow too.”

“Wonderful.”

“You still suck.”

“Yes, darling, so you’ve said.” She winks at me. “All done.”

“Finally,” I grunt sarcastically. “Took you long enough.”

“Precisely, darling. I took exactly the amount of time to do the thing properly, and I didn’t hear you complaining,” she answers with the perfect blend of sarcasm and uppityness as she turns to leave the bathroom, flicking the light off and leaving me standing in the dark.

I follow her onto the bed and lie down. Time to preen. I wish I could fly home real quick and get my wing-oil, that would help things heal and feel a lot less grimy. Maybe Rare has something in all her little bottles of-

“Yes?” she asks my open-mouthed stare

“Why do you have that?” I point to the little bottle she’s levitating over from the nightstand. I don’t mean to, but I make it sound like she’s got a third eye or something. It just doesn’t make sense for her to have a brand new bottle of expensive wing-oil just lying around.

“The first note I sent to Spike this morning asked him to do a few things for me. Fetching this was on the list. I know he does the shopping for Twilight, so I didn’t think he’d be uncomfortable with it.”

“What else was on the list?” I ask.

“I asked him to bring me some books about the psychology of trauma, especially sexual assault,” she says carefully. There’s the slightest sideways shift in her expression. When her eyes glance back to me, they look like she’s about to say she’s sorry for something.

The words just hang in the air for a while. I really don’t know how I feel about it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that she wanted to learn how to take care of me or whatever. That should probably feel reassuring or something. But, something about her asking Spike to get her books seems weird. It just doesn’t seem like Rarity to do something like that.

Maybe it’s a unicorn thing- books and research.

I can’t blame her for wanting to know stuff. The uncomfortable part is finding out about it after the fact. It’s Rarity. So, it really isn’t that weird for her to just do something she thinks is a good idea and pretend to be sorry for not asking about it. This time, I’m not sure she would’ve told me at all if I hadn’t asked her about it, and I don’t really like how unbalanced that suddenly makes me feel.

Plus, I don’t like feeling like she needs a stack of books to figure me out. Why does she suddenly need to study to know how to help me? She's been taking care of me all day and she's been awesome.

“You think I’m a head case?” I ask quietly.

“Not at all,” she answers immediately reaching for my hoof, which I let her take.

“Then why?” I look her in the eyes and the bad feelings start to melt away. Her hooves are twitching like she’s afraid of something. She’s leaning in toward me with an urgency that I wasn’t expecting. All of the stuff I could see earlier when her mask was cracking is just there on her face for me to see now.

“Because I know that you’ve been through something terrible,” she says softly and carefully. Her eyes glance briefly away. Then she takes a deep breath, sets herself with more confidence and meets my gaze again. “You are giving me the opportunity to help, Rainbow, which I am well aware is not a natural or easy task for you. It’s a responsibility I don’t take lightly, darling.

“I want to help, but with all my faults and foibles, I fear that I may cause you more damage. You see, one of the problems with being the Element of Generosity is that I can have a tendency to overstep my bounds. I don’t want to do that if it can be helped. I asked for the books because I want to know what is reasonable to expect from you, and I need to know what to expect from myself in terms of assisting and supporting you”

She pauses and chews on her lip for a minute. I start tracing another flight pattern on her cannon while I wait. She never showed this stuff earlier. Even when she seemed exhausted and frustrated, she never seemed worried that she would hurt me. Maybe I just didn’t see it. Maybe she didn’t want me to see it because she didn’t want to freak me out.

The part of my brain that put her up on some hero pedestal is feeling pretty stupid about now. Of course, she’s just been winging it. She hasn’t done this before. If somepony showed up at my doorstep looking the way I do right now, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I probably wouldn’t even try because I’d know I’d mess it up. I’d just send them to Fluttershy’s and then avoid them for a few days before going to make sure they weren’t still mad at me for not knowing what to do.

Rarity just keeps stepping up for me. She just keeps acting like she knows what she’s doing and it keeps working out. Somewhere along the way, she must have just picked up enough know-how to stay calm and fake it this far, but now the mask is off and the walls are down and she’s letting me see that she’s nervous. She’s just a pony. She’s just Rarity and she doesn’t want to screw up and make something bad even worse.

“I also can’t pretend that there wasn’t a self-serving component to it,” she adds with a sigh. “I was in shock this morning. I recognized the symptoms of course. So, I thought I might benefit from the reading as well.”

“That makes sense.” I keep my voice blank and keep tracing.

“But it doesn’t make you feel any better, does it?”

I shrug. “Maybe a little.”

“Dash, will you please look at me?”

I look up from the pattern I’m drawing into her sparkling blue eyes.

“I don’t see any point in trying to lie to you. Nor, do I see any benefit in pretending that it isn’t true. You’ve been through a trauma. The emotional trauma may be far more extensive than the physical. Even you, for all your brutishness, must recognize that.”

I want to say something, but she doesn’t let me. “It isn’t an accusation or a judgment, darling.” She takes my hoof firmly between hers again. Her words start rolling a little faster but with all the same sincerity. “You may be bruised in body, mind, and spirit; but you are not broken, Rainbow. Not to me. I look at you and see a true victim. I see an innocent that was violently and wickedly violated in the most basic of ways.

“More importantly, I still see my dear friend- one of the bravest ponies I know- trying to find her way through the fog of post-trauma symptoms. I see a beautiful warrior of a pony holding herself together as best she can. I see you, Dash, as strong as you have ever been.

"You may be a victim now, but in time you will be a survivor. You will heal. Recovering from wounds is nothing new to you, and you will recover from this. I am certain of it and I want to do everything I can to help you find your way.

“I failed you last night, by not responding to my own instincts. I won’t fail you again, Rainbow Dash.” Her voice wraps around my name and reclaims it. I’ve flinched at it every time somepony said it all day because I kept hearing the way Mac hissed it at me last night. Something about the way Rare said it just took my name and made it awesome again.

I lean over and nuzzle her cheek. “Thank you, Rarity.”

She nuzzles back. “Always, my darling. Always.”

We sit like that for a while. I don’t want to move, but I want to go to sleep. So, I pull back and roll over. The doc said to let Rare unfold my wings for me for the next few days until I can do it without crying.

Her horn lights and I feel the tingle in my feathers. My wings aren’t numb this time though, so I can actually feel a lot more of the swirling vibrations in her magic. I close my eyes and pay attention to the loops and tiny gusts. There's a definite, complicated rhythm and pattern to it. It's kind of like a song playing across my feathers. The magic isn’t exactly like the numbing thing from earlier, but it’s close. It kinda turns all my muscles to jelly so she can move them without tearing anything.

She spends fifteen minutes massaging and working one wing open and takes just as long on the other one. It feels so good. It feels like my body can finally breathe. Plus, that unicorn has one talented mouth. She’s working over some of my worst injuries but never adds to the pain. She pushes hard enough for pressure, but light enough to feel good. I feel her stretch things, softly making them move farther than they want to, but not farther than they can really go.

When she’s got both my wings open and splayed out on her bed. I ask her for a break. Laying like this just feels good. She asks if I need anything, and a snack sounds good. She goes to the kitchen but leaves her magic on me. If I pay attention to my feathers, I can feel her getting farther away then closer again.

She’s carrying a box with a familiar logo. Pinkie must have brought treats at some point. Rare also has one tall glass of water. “Cupcake, donut, or croissant?” she offers.

“Cupcake.”

“The lemon raspberry are my favorite, so I’m assuming these others are for you.” She raises a chocolate cupcake with white frosting topped with a strawberry.

“Oh yeah!” She starts to lower the cupcake, then I think of something. “Hold on!” I close my eyes and pay attention to her magic again. I'm wondering if the patterns are different now that she’s doing something else, but it feels the exact same. “Huh,” I say opening my eyes. “Ok.” Then I open my mouth and she gives me a bite. I see her collect the crumbs falling from my mouth so they don’t make a mess on me or her bed.

“What was that about?” she asks.

I blush. It’s probably a pretty weird thing. “I was seeing if your magic feels different when you're using it for more than one thing. I felt it kind of stretch while you were downstairs, but it’s all the same now.”

“Oh,” she blushes, “I didn’t realize you could sense it like that. You just described the sensation as tingly.”

I take another bite of my cupcake. She’s eating a chocolate croissant. “I can only really feel it with my feathers. I was numb earlier, and then I was wrapped in a towel, so I couldn’t really tell what it felt like.”

“But you can now?”

“Yeah. There are all these little patterns and stuff.” I finish my cupcake. I’m thirsty, but I can’t sit up. Rares sees me eyeballing the glass of water.

“I think you’ll like this,” she says. A bubble of water floats out of the glass and lowers to my face.

“How do I drink it?”

She laughs. “You can either suck on it, or I pour the water in your mouth.”

Trying to suck on a floating ball of water covered in tingly magic is weird, but it works.

“That was kinda cool. Thanks, Rare.”

“Of course.”

“Now, get to work, would ya?” I say with a wink.

She rolls her eyes at me. “I might bite you instead if you can’t find some manners.”

“I’d deserve it. How is that by the way?” I just realized that her mane is covering the spot where I bit her earlier. She tosses it back revealing a gnarly bruise. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Dashie. It doesn’t hurt much anymore." She gets a sip of water then positions herself next to me. "Ready?”

I nod and she gets started. It's so obvious that she's done this before, but she isn't awkward about it like most ponies would be.Most ground ponies think of preening as some huge pegasi turn on, which it can be, but it's also just basic hygiene like brushing teeth. It takes practice to be good at it. Even though most pegasi start trying to preen their own feathers as foals, not everyone learns how to do it right. Trying to teach Twilight how to do it was a huge pain in the flank. It's just not something a book can teach and every time I tried to show her she got all weird about it.

“Rare?” I ask when she’s done with her first pass across my wing.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you know how to preen?”

She laughs a little. “Well, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell, but you aren’t the first pegasus to spend time in my bed, Rainbow.”

“Who?” I ask my question before I can think to filter out the surprise. I’ve literally never seen her date a pegasus before. I thought her and Fluttershy were a thing for like three seconds once, but that’s about it.

“Thunderlane,” she answers like it’s no big deal.

“You’re shitting me!” There’s no way Lane would have kept that a secret, plus Rarity is way too good for him. I mean… he’s Thunderlane!

“I can assure you wholeheartedly that I am not shitting you,” she says, finally looking up from my wing to meet my stare.

It really is weird to hear her swear.

“So, you learned to preen for Thunderlane?” The words feel gross in my mouth. It’s not like it’s the first time something like this has happened. Ponyville is a small town. Everypony dates everypony else. It’s just kind of what happens, except Rarity doesn’t really date around Ponyville. At least, not that I’ve noticed.

“In part,” she muses turning back to my wing and tugging a primary into place. “I actually asked Aloe and Lotus for formal lessons after he and I were no longer an item.”

“Why?”

“For Fluttershy,” she says simply. “She was too shy to let them preen her at first, and those delightful creatures of hers do make such a mess of her sometimes, so I offered.”

I try to ignore the weird depressed feeling I’m not supposed to be having. Knowing that she’s preened Flutters or she slept with Thunderlane shouldn’t bother me, but it does.

“I hadn’t preened anypony in years before last night, Dashie,” she says pulling up to look me in the face again. “Thunderlane and I dated very briefly, long before you and I were more than mere acquaintances. Fluttershy has been having her wings preened at the spa since that dreadful modeling incident. She never fully explained the situation to me. I only know that something happened with somepony that made her suddenly feel much more comfortable with Aloe and Lotus.”

I actually know what happened with Shy. She went to some photo shoot, and Photo Finish made her let the make-up ponies mess up her wings for the pictures. They didn’t hurt her, just made her look messy. The second the shoot was done she went to the spa. She told me that at least she knew Aloe and Lotus.

Maybe this is all only weird because I’m making it weird. Maybe it’s just a pegasus thing to want the pony that preens my wings to only preen my wings, and that’s just not a thing I’ve ever had to think about before because I haven’t let many ponies preen my wings for me. I never had a marefriend I thought would do it right, or that I trusted enough to let try. The couple of times Shy has tried she’s been way too afraid of hurting me. So, I’m just nervous or something. And it’s just extra weird because of the timing and the fact that this wouldn’t even be a problem if Rarity hadn’t had to save me from dying last night.

“It’s cool, Rares.” I shrug and try to force the weirdness in my brain to shut down. “I just wondered.” I settle back into the bed and try to relax. I’m not all caught up in shock this time. So, I can really pay attention to what it feels like to have Rarity preen my wings.

It feels awesome! She’s got just the right balance of pressure to get things where they need to be and she obviously knows her way around, even though she says she hasn’t done this in a long time. She hums while she preens. I hum along when she gets to a tune I know.

I could fall asleep. I probably should, but I don’t want to. It’s comforting to feel her body touching me. Part of me wants to vomit, because of the stupid, weird feelings. Plus, I can feel my bruises and tired muscles everywhere. Each sore spot reminds me of what happened to me, and why I'm here, and the fact that I’m not the same Rainbow Dash I was yesterday. That part of me wants to push her away.

She’s this gleaming white unicorn like something out of a story, and I’m a broken piece of trash now. She shouldn’t be touching me, but she looks happy. Humming to herself and stopping to smile at my wing when she gets the feathers just the way she wants them. She mumbles at one that just won’t do what she wants and tells it to behave. Her face is focused, but relaxed. Every time she finishes a row she nuzzles my side a little bit, which tickles but not enough to make me laugh- just enough to make me smile.

It’s really nice to be quiet. I have talked so much today. I realize that there are parts of the story I haven’t even told Rarity and she hasn’t asked. We talked about horns, and wings, and our friends instead. I know we’ll have the full conversation sometime. I want to tell her the whole story, and I don’t. I don’t want her to know how pathetic I really was. I don’t want her to know how easy it was for him. Not that I didn’t fight, because I did, but I could have done more.

I could have used him to kill myself. If she hadn’t shown up, I would have.

Rarity won’t want to know that, but I kind of think she already does. Getting Spike to get those books for her, which are sitting on her nightstand, makes me think that she must already get it. Maybe she doesn’t understand, but she gets it. That speech about me being a victim, for now, wasn’t just words to her. I hate that word- victim- but not the way Rarity said it. She didn’t sound like she pitied me, or thought I was weak. It just sounded like she got it. Like, she gets that everypony goes through their shit. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

Looking at the books makes me feel better about that part of things too. I don’t think she was trying to hide them from me anymore. I think she just had the idea and ran with it. I’m glad she asked Spike and not Twilight to get them for her though.

I’m still bugged about how Twilight didn’t even try to stand up for Rarity at all today, and I’m bugged that Shy didn’t say anything at the hospital about it.

I’m glad AJ showed up. It was easier to see her than I thought it would be. It’s weird, but I want to tell her that I think they are being too hard on Mac. I mean, I think he should have to watch his dick get cut off for what he did to me, plus whatever legal thing is going to happen to him. But… he still needs his family. Apples stick together. It’s what they do. AJ and Granny writing him off just feels like one more bad thing.

Rarity finishes with the last feather and pulls back with a worried look on her face. I look at my wings. They look like shit. They look the sun and the moon better than they did, but they still look like shit. Looking at my wings makes me cry. It doesn’t matter how they look, they’re useless.

I love being a pegasus. Flying is the best feeling in the world. There’s almost never been a problem that flying couldn’t solve, until this. I couldn’t fly right now, even if all my bones weren’t fractured and all my muscles sprained. I’m missing too many feathers. There are a couple places (where his hooves held me down the longest) where there should be layer after layer of perfectly aligned feathers to create the plane that forces the air where I want it to go; instead, there are bald spots. Rares has done an awesome job covering up them up though. I’m sure even most pegasi wouldn’t see them unless they really looked.

My tears change from sad to angry in a second. My coat bristles like I did before.

“Do you feel like yelling?” Rares asks. She’s totally serious.

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I snap at her.

“The kind from a pony that, from time to time, must enter her closet, seal it with an impenetrable silencing charm and scream herself hoarse in order to avoid murdering a certain darling sister of mine or destroying days and days worth of work.

“I’m not trying to trivialize anything, Dash. You have every right to be angry, and I’ve seen you bravely swallow that anger many times today. I haven’t read those books Spike brought me yet, but I can’t imagine that perpetually suppressing anger is healthy. So, if you want to yell or scream, then I think you should.”

I did want to scream, but her little speech takes the fire out of me. Instead, I answer quietly, my voice shaking: “I’m so mad he took the sky from me, Rare.”

She starts working my wings back to my sides and just listens to me cry and vent.

“It’s like, I can’t even go home, you know? Not to my house, because my house is big and lonely and it sucks a lot of the time, but home. I can’t go to the one place where I’ve always just belonged; where everything is ok, even when everything is wrong. My wings are useless, Rare. Useless. You just spent an hour on them, and they are still useless. That bastard took my wings from me. I’m a pegasus that can’t fly. What the hell does that make me now? I wish he’d just done the decent thing and killed me instead.”

I didn’t mean to say that last part. I expect her to say something like: ‘Rainbow Dash, that is simply unacceptable. I will not tolerate such self-pitying nonsense;’ but she doesn’t. She looks at my wing with sad, angry tears in her eyes. She finishes folding the wing softly to my side and lightly kisses the feathers. She’s been looking at my wings for more than an hour, but her eyes look like they’re still taking in everything about them.

“I can’t pretend to understand,” she finally says forlornly looking at my face. Then she takes a deep breath and her eyes go hard. Her voice turns and rolls with the same anger I feel when she says, “But I can tell you that I hate him for what he’s done to you. I hate him for taking so much from you. I hate him for hurting you in such a basic, fundamental way that you are experiencing a loss whose depth I can barely comprehend. I hate him for taking so much from you so brutally that death feels like an answer to you. You, who are more alive than nearly anypony I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I hate him and I hate myself for not saving you from him. I am so sorry, Rainbow.”

I roll onto my stomach, sit up, and open my hooves to her. She leans against me and we cry. We cry loud, angry, sobbing tears. I want to tell her not to hate herself, but I know she won’t listen. Not yet. Just like I wouldn’t listen if she told me not to talk about wishing I was dead.

Eventually, the sobs fade and tears stop, but we just keep holding each other until I realize how dark it is outside. “Hey, Marshmallow?”

“Hmmm?”

“Think we should sleep?”

She sighs. “I think we ought to try.”

“K.”

“Get up a moment and let me turn the bed down, please.”

I give her one more squeeze and let go.

“Do you mind taking the side by the window?” she asks. “I’ve taken to sleeping on this side, so I can listen for Sweetie Belle when she’s here.”

“That’s fine. Do you care if we open the window?”

“Not at all, darling.” She’s tossing little pillows from the bed onto the fainting couch in the corner, and opening the window, and pulling down the blankets all at the same time.

“How many things can you do at once?”

She smiles. “I believe my personal best is seven.”

“What were you doing?”

“Gala dresses,” she says with a sigh and a smile as she climbs on the bed. “I was hoof-stitching the bodice on Fluttershy’s, using fabric glue to attach streamers to Pinkie’s, running Twilight’s hideous cape through the embroidery machine to add the retched stars, shaping Applejack’s ridiculous hat, drinking a cup of coffee, and letting Opal out.”

“That’s only six,” I say. We’re on our sides, our heads on pillows, looking at each other.

“Well, I was also finishing a simply atrocious helmet for somepony.”

“That thing was pretty bad,” I laugh. “Why did you let us get away with that shit?”

“Because it was what you wanted,” she says with a shrug like it’s totally obvious. “And because I didn’t know you all well enough yet to boldly tell you that you had no fashion sense whatsoever. I wouldn’t have the same troubles now.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Oh hush!” She shoves me a little. “It isn’t as though you never share your opinions.”

“True.”

Her mane has fallen down her back, so I can see the bruise from my bite again. I lean in and nuzzle the spot. “I’m really sorry about this,” I say and then kiss it quickly.

“It’s really alright, Rainbow. I promise.” She blushes as I pull away. I want to close the gap between us. We’ve been touching all day, but I want different touch now. I don't need her to ground me or anything. I just want the comfort of being held. It’s wrong of me to want it, but I just want to feel safe.

Her hoof strokes my cheek and wipes away a tear I didn’t know I’d cried. “What’s wrong, Rainbow?”

“I want to hold you,” I admit into the pillow. I’m crying even more now because I’m frustrated that my stupid eyeballs aren’t letting me hide the feelings.

“And that’s making you cry?”

She knows about all the broken and fucked up shit. I know she isn't about to tell me no. She just shouldn’t have to deal with anything else. She's letting me sleep in her bed and that should just be enough, but I want more and it's weird and I'm not awesome anymore because of what Mac did to me. It's not like I'm here on equal terms. I'm like a filly that should be brave enough to sleep in their own bed but isn't. He ruined me; ruined my confidence and I want her to hold me together and make it ok. “I feel dirty, Rare.”

Magic wraps around me and slides us together. She moves her hoof from my face, down my back and whispers into my ear. “I wouldn’t care, even if you were, Rainbow.”

I bury my muzzle in her neck and pull her to me so I can put my forelegs around her. I test my wing, it’s still feeling good enough from being preened. I start to stretch it. She lifts the blanket up, so I can move and wrap it around her. Then she sets the blanket back down. I tip my head so our foreheads are pressed together again and feel the exact wave of comfort I wanted. Maybe when I’m not so messed up, things will just go back to normal. For now, she’s giving me an out and I’m taking it because I just want to feel safe and peaceful for a few minutes.

I don’t know how much time passes- I’m not totally asleep when she shifts and kisses my forehead, then starts to close my wing. I groan a little and pout my lip.

“Another time, darling,” she says quietly.

“Ok,” I say holding on to her a little tighter. She tucks the blanket around us and relaxes into her pillow. I fall asleep listening to her hum a lullaby.