Soaring with the Rainbows

The white Pegasus up on the judging panel swallowed a yawn and hiccuped, earning a glare from his flame-haired commander. This competition was supposed to be about spotting future talent, it was supposed to be about the stand-outs and the brilliant. But this year the most impressive trick so far was a pony doing a couple of consecutive barrel-rolls. He'd once done that while drinking a glass of water.

The Wonderbolt lost his battle to keep back the yawn, and promptly got kicked by Spitfire. The hot tempered pony glared at him, and then turned back to the competition. Soarin' knew what the glare meant. It meant "I know this is boring; but I will kick your tail if you don't pay attention!" After many years of friendship with Spitfire, from when they were both foals, to their disastrous attempt to date, all the way to when Spitfire got promoted to captain, Soarin could tell exactly what she meant with each dangerous glance.

Finally, the last competitor. Or rather, the last two competitors, both performing at once. Bad organization, really. Soarin shifted in his seat, watching the butterfly-winged unicorn. That makeup mask made her look hideous. Trying to see past her failed attempt at beauty, the flyer paid closer attention. The sequined performer had some nice moves, but she'd never get in to the 'Bolts. Plus, that make up mask made her look hideous. The Wonderbolts were a Pegasus group through and through. A unicorn like that would do better to audition for a travelling play.

Even as he watched the unicorn, Soarin kept an eye out for the other contestant. The main reason the Wonderbolts were asked to come was to judge the contest, but they were also there to act as a safety team.

From what he could see, the Pegasus competing down below wasn't doing too well. She obviously had grace and style, but the music that was ringing through the arena was putting her off. She'd already crashed into a wall. Dimly, Soarin noticed that her cloud-spinning trick would have been great, if it had worked. There was something familiar about that style, about that particular Pegasus. But Soarin's brain was dulled by the hot sun and insipid ballet music, and he didn't look into it further.

Both contestants were now climbing up for their respective finishes. Soarin was having trouble even staying upright. The sooner this was over, the better. He peered up just in time to catch the unicorn's light display. Then he started to pay attention. Something was wrong. She was falling out of the sky screaming, wings gone. Soarin leapt toward her, feeling the wind in his mane, he wasn't worried.  He'd catch the unicorn easily, or one of his teammates would. He rocketed down toward the falling pony, hooves outstretched.

Dammit! Fleetfoot had gotten hit by the unicorn's hooves! Dodging in, Soarin could see that the unicorn was terrified, out of her mind with panic. All of his old calm gone, he carefully slipped in closer. He was almost there, almost going to catch her... Shock. Hurt. Dimming, blackening. Something had hit him, and it had hit him hard. He could feel his iron grip on consciousness loosening, fading. Soarin tried to keep his hold, but there was nothing to use, nothing to hold, and he was waning, failing, falling. He tried to turn into the wind, but his dependable wings refused. Now wasn't worried about his teammate or the unicorn anymore, he wasn't calm, he wasn't focused, he was terrified. All that ruled his mind was self-preservation, the protection of self above all others. But even that couldn't save him. Somehow, he was looking up now, up at the deminishing cloud arena, a passenger in his own body. Something was streaking toward them, but it wouldn't be fast enough. Soarin knew that, but he wasn't afraid. He should be, he had been. Why wasn't he afraid?

The streak following them was actually getting closer. How strange. He could see it resolve itself into an athletic young mare. The other contestant. She was coming down, a cone of energy surrounding her. She wouldn't make it. But he was fine with that. The stranger Pegusus was rocketing down, faster, faster. Just when the falling flyer grasped what she was trying to do, she did it. She broke the sound barrier. The last thing he could remember was the mare rushing toward him, rainbows enveloping her mane and the shockwave behind her spreading out. She was beautiful.

***

Soarin woke up, feeling like mud. Slow, sticky, and grubby. Beside him, he could see Spitfire and Fleetfoot stretched out.

"You okay, sir?"

Soarin tried to stand up. It appeared that he was, in fact, okay. This was strange. He should have died. But judging from the grogginess in his head and the ache in his wings, he was still in the realm of the living. Realizing that the questioner wanted an answer, he nodded.

In the corner, Spitfire was helping Fleetfoot up. He guessed that she had been taken out at some point. She was looking dazed, and had lost her goggles. Urgh, his brain was still working way too slowly! There was something he was missing, something surprising but obvious.

Spitfire was telling him something. They needed to thank the pony who saved them. Soarin just nodded, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Together, the teammates, led by Spitfire, strode out onto the cloud arena. The crowd roared, and overhead, the rest of the Wonderbolts performed a flyby. In front of him, the mare was complaining to her friends about how she wanted to meet the Wonderbolts "when they were awake". Her face when Spitfire tapped her was almost priceless.

Soarin enjoyed the moment. The mare seemed to be a huge fan, almost being knocked speechless by the presence of himself and the team. Behind the overexcited mare, the Princess herself was waiting to talk to the hero. Spitfire tactfully moved away, leaving the rainbow Pegasus to greet the ruler of the realm with surprising familiarity. Soarin was still trying to grasp the fact that had escaped him. It was there, on the edge of his mind, just hovering out of sight.

Wait a sec... The rainbow mare. Her appearance, her goofiness, her speed, her grace. And above all else, her love for the Wonderbolts... It couldn't be. That strong, graceful mare couldn't be the gawky foal he had known in his youth. That couldn't be Rainbow Dash?

Soarin just stood there, trying to wrap his head around the inevitable. When somepony actually called the mare 'Rainbow Dash', it only confirmed what he already knew. His heart raced, his eyes twitched, and he had to control the urge to run away. Running away would make him more noticeable, not less. His body quivered, and he keep his face smooth as Rainbow carelessly draped a hoof around his shoulders, claiming him and one of his teammates as her own. Soarin didn't care who the other Wonderbolt was. He had to find a way to get out of here, fast.

***

"You can come out now guys." Fleetfoot muttered into her hoof. Behind the laundry room, two ponies made their way out of a nest of clothing. "What's up, anyway? Why are you two hiding beneath dirty uniforms to avoid a fan?"

Soarin sighed. He wasn't exactly proud of what they were doing. But facing Rainbow Dash? After how they had left her behind? It just wasn't an option.

"She's not just any fan." Soarin said. "We three have some... bad history."

"Riiiight. Well, it ain't none of my trouble. But you need to clear it up.  From the looks of it, she'll be joining the team soon."

Fleetfoot trotted out of the door, leaving the other two to gape at each other. Technically, Soarin had nothing to fear from meeting up with Rainbow again. It was Spitfire who dreaded that meeting. After what she'd done, Rainbow wasn't gonna react well to seeing her again.

Soarin headed off to the showers. This situation needed to be resolved. Time for a plan. A plan that involved pie.

***

It was the grand galloping gala, and Soarin was set to go. Spitfire had no idea that Rainbow was coming, but Soarin had done his research. Rainbow's friend, a Ms Twilight Sparkle, was Princess Celestia'a own prodigy.  Since Twilight Sparkle had that sort of influence, it was highly likely that she would have been able to secure tickets. Hey, he might act like an idiot, but Soarin wasn't as shallow and idiot as most ponies thought.

He needed to fix this mess. Soarin knew that Rainbow would get into the Wonderbolts. It was only a matter of time. And when she did get in, and found that Soarin and Spitfire had been hiding from her? If he knew Rainbow, all hell would break loose.

The show was over, and the team had been kitted out with brand new uniforms and told to mingle. Stage One of the plan was a go. Wandering over to a stand full of food, he exchanged a couple bits for his secret weapon. A pie.  The dastardly villain took his time coming up toward the ballroom. His sparkling white coat shimmered, his blue mane twisted in a breeze his perfect- Oh wait, there was Rainbow Dash. Stage two, go!

Walking up to the crowd barrier, Soarin very carefully tripped. His pie arced through the air, and Rainbow caught it. Perfect! Settling down to eat, he heard Rainbow getting invited in. And then he got grabbed by his ear. Yelping Soarin turned to face Spitfire.

"I know what you're doing, Soarin."

An innocent sentence that managed to sound life-threatening.

"I'msorryyouneedtomakeupI'mgoingnowBye!"

And if Soarin managed to slip into the crowds and lose Spitfire, it was coincidence. It was not because he was afraid of Spitfire. Not. At. All.

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy." He murmured to himself.

Still, the plan had worked. Now Rainbow and Spitfire would have to meet. And then this mess would be over.  Either that, or Spitfire and Rainbow would hate each other forever. One or the other.

But Stage Three (Rainbow and Spitfire meet) wasn't working. Every time the two came close to each other, Spitfire found another fan who wanted a photo, or another expert to discuss flight patterns with. He even saw her deliberately ignore Rainbow when she came up to talk.

He thought he could butt in, force Spitfire to buck up and get a move on. Then she stared at him. And Soarin went to sit in a corner. He spotted Rainbow dashing around, and tried to talk to her. But she'd gone by the time he'd arrived. Soarin felt like he was in a celestial dance. Circling the room, trying to get to Rainbow, trying to avoid Spitfire.
And then it got worse.  He should have known. If Rainbow was ignored, she went to any lengths to get attention. He should have foreseen the faked rescue, he should have prepared for the water-cup trick. Although he didn't think that he could have foreseen the collapsing statue.  Or the animal invasion. Oh buck. This was not good, not good, very, very not good!

***

The gala was in ruins (literally), there was a squirrel nesting in his mane, and Spitfire was giving him the death-glare. Soarin sat down, utterly morose.  He thought he could fix the gap between Spitfire and Rainbow. He thought that he could help. Instead, it appeared that not only was the gap un-crossable, he might have even made things worse.

The room wasn't so dark anymore. Behind him, the source of light started whispering into his ear.

"They went to a doughnut shop. Fly east."

He turned to the Princess. She winked. He almost fell over. Looking around the room, Spitfire was engaged in trying to re-instate a pillar. She wouldn't be hounding after him for a while. Time to seize the moment, sort of. Dodging out of the ruined ballroom, Soarin started heading east.

***

He guessed this was the place. After all, it had a giant doughnut on the roof. If that didn't make it a doughnut shop... Focus Soarin! He could hear the sounds of talking and laughing inside. As he watched, Princess Celestia walked out the front door.  What was up with that? Could she be in two places at once? Wait, wait, focus Soarin! That was definitely Rainbow's group of friends down there.

He sat on the rooftop, listening. They were having fun, even after the disaster of the gala. They were talking, and dancing, and giggling. And nopony was telling them to drop and do a wing-pushup, or a lap of the room. Nopony was telling them off, or saying that the team didn't do well enough that performance. Soarin was... jealous. He didn't even have friends outside the Wonderbolts, and it just wasn't the same. His teammates were always competing, always in a competition. They didn't ever stop and rest. It was all just go, go, and go.

The lonely pony must have sat on the roof for hours, just listening to the friends being friends. Eventually, they ordered a carriage. He hid behind the giant doughnut as a royal carriage arrived, and watched as everypony was loaded up.  Oh poop. Soarin realized something. When the carriage took off, it would pass directly overhead. And then everypony would see the creepy stalker dude lurking behind a doughnut.

Frantic, Soarin took the only means of escape he could. He rocketed out from his hiding place, streaking away from the shop. As he gained speed, he realized the he'd left his suit behind. It had been put to use as a cushion between him and the roof. Oh well. It had already been covered in cake and chewed on by squirrels. That wasn't too bad. Soarin used his wings to bank, feeling the pressure of the turn in his spine. Only then did he hear his pursuer. Rainbow must have wanted to find out what was wrong with him. Flipping, bucking, no! This was bad, so bad, so very, very, bad! Concentrate on flying, Soarin!

Stepping it up a notch, he felt the signature cloud trail beginning to form.  But this wouldn't be enough. He could feel Rainbow gaining on him. She must have lost the gala dress at some point. Pity. Soarin beat his wings harder, trying to ease just a bit more speed out of his tired body. Sitting on hard metal roofs was not good for a tired pegusus.
It was no use. He could feel Rainbow gaining with each passing second. Landing on a cloud, he tried to muster his courage for the inevitable confrontation.

"Hey, you okay dude?"

Soarin kept his head turned away from the other Pegasus. It was a desperate and stupid ploy, but it might buy time. The truth was Soarin knew that Rainbow couldn't hurt him badly. But he'd spent so long burying the memories that they shared, too many years trying to forget what happened.

But now it was time to stop. He needed to fix the rift between Rainbow and Spitfire if they were ever to work together. Because soon, Rainbow would finally be old enough to audition for the Wonderbolts. So there was no avoiding this. Back and forth his thoughts went, trying to find flimsy excuses or risky escape routes. He was frozen in place, trying to get over his fear. His fear that he wouldn't be able to heal the rift.  That Rainbow and Spitfire would always hate each other. Soarin literally couldn't move, until he was shocked out of his trance.

"Soarin. Stallion up and face me."

She knew!? She knew who he was, what he was?

"Rainbow?" He murmured.

Soarin turned around, facing Rainbow. But he still couldn't meet her eyes. When she took a step closer, he flinched. But the punch he was expecting never came. He looked up, and she was smiling. Not a happy-go-lucky smile, but one that was sarcastic and had an edge of pain. He didn't like that smile. It wasn't like the Rainbow that he had known. The old Rainbow would have started punching him by now. But this Rainbow was smiling, even if it was a sarcastic, bitter smile.

"You're that scared of me, huh? Soarin, you've been hanging out with Spit too much."
He didn't know if he liked that voice. It spoke of experience, of past and recent pain. But it spoke of happiness too. And he hoped, he really hoped, that it spoke of forgiveness.

"Hey Rainbow."

"Good trick with the pie back there."

Soarin sighed. "Did that trick actually fool anypony?"

"Nope." Rainbow plopped down beside him, seemingly uncaring. "You need to get a new ploy."

"Yes ma'am."

"I'm not ya flipping flight captain, Soarin. Although I'm pretty pissed that you two didn't even give me a glance the whole night."

"I tried to... but you never stayed still, and Spitfire was after my blood."

"And then the statue fell down and the animals ran through."

"Yep."

The two Pegasi sat quietly on the drifting cloud. Soarin reflected on exactly what they were doing. This wasn't the Rainbow he remembered from his youth. She was stronger, both inside and out. She had been through more, had triumphed over celestia-knows-what, and that had matured her. She wasn't the naive, hyper young filly that he and Spitfire had left behind. Soarin wondered if that was his fault.

Rainbow and Soarin just lounged on the cloud for a while, watching the movement down below. They weren't in a hurry to get anywhere, or at least, Soarin wasn't. He could just imagine what Spitfire would punish him with when he returned. But right now, in this moment, he didn't care. He and Spitfire had hurt their oldest friend, hurt her bad, and Soarin, for one, was going to try to make it up to her.

"Rainbow... I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, exactly?"

"You know..."

Rainbow Dash turned to his, her eyes suddenly alight with something. Pain or determination, Soarin couldn't tell which.

"Enlighten me Soarin. What, exactly?"

Soarin pushed away from her, and started fiddling with part of the cloud. After a minute, he began to speak.

***

"We- you, me and Spitfire, were all born close to each other. We went to the same kindergarten, the same little school. Cloudsdale is a lot bigger than most ponies think. Looking back, its a minor miracle that we were actually all neighbors. Because of the lack of any other close foals, we were all close friends by the time school started. But the thing was, we weren't the same age. Me and Spit were 'bout a year and a half older then you.

But you, Rainbow, you made up for it with your spirit. And for ages, it didn't matter. We learnt our numbers together. We learnt our reading together. And most importantly, we learnt to fly together.

We were always all at home in the air, cutie marks or not. All three of us used to ride the currents from one house to the next, tempting fate to drop the wind and let us fall. We were the best in our class, and we thought we were the best in the world. Then we saw the Wonderbolts. Your mom took us to one of their shows, and from then on, we were hooked. We loved the freedom, the awesomeness, and the skill of the flyers.

So everything was perfect. But then you, Rainbow, got your cutie mark.

We all knew how, and what, you did. It was fantastic, it was wonderful, it was unbelievable. But then me and Spitfire noticed something. You had your cutie mark. We didn't. Even though we were older, and better, we thought, we didn't have a stupid tattoo on our flanks. I didn't particularly mind. We were told that we would get our marks when we were ready, and I believed it. But Spitfire... You and her were always too much alike. She was jealous, jealous of the fame, of the glory of the attention you got.

She started acting different. More... aloof? She'd stay the same around me, but when we were all together, she constantly give off snarky comments or slight insults toward you. You knew what was happening, I think. You stopped wanting to come over and play with us, and when you were there, you'd return the insults in kind. I just felt like I was becoming a glue... the only thing that was keeping our friendship together. It wasn't pleasant.

Then, finally, months later, you snapped. You told Spit that you couldn't take it anymore. You told her to either 'play nice' or get out. Spit was shocked, I think, to be called out. She reacted badly, to say the least. To this day, I actually remember each word that was said. By both of you. I can remember watching our years of friendship break apart before my eyes. I really don't think that I have a worse memory.

And then it was over. You both looked like you were going to punch each other. But then Spitfire came up with something far more painful. She turned to me and said, "We've got our letters for the wonderbolts summer camp. Come on Soarin, we're leaving this loser." I can remember how your face fell when you heard that final insult.

And then both of you looked at me, demanding my allegiance. You must understand how sorry I am... How much I have looked back, how many times that I've imagined things going differently. But they didn't. I went with Spitfire, looking back the whole time.

I don't expect you to want to understand. But we were going away to flight camp that summer. And you weren't. I just couldn't face the camp without a friend in the world, like you had to. I'm not proud of what I did. It was terrible, a poor repayment to you for all the years of friendship we shared. I abandoned you when you needed me.
But Spitfire's bullying didn't stop. Instead of just plain insulting you, she spread rumors. That your sonic rainboom was fake. That your parents had 'marriage troubles'. That you couldn't fly to save your own life. During that time, I tried to talk to you. But you turned away. I don't blame you.

We made your life hell, up until we left for flight camp. Even when we left, the rumors didn't leave you. Sometimes, although it's been years, I still hear the rumor of your 'fake rainboom'.  By the time you came to flight camp, it was too late. We'd been slotted into the advanced group, and were already gone.

I didn't know how to fix what I did. I still don't. So I forgot. I forgot you, I forgot your skill, I forgot your friendship. I hid it away in some part of my mind, I locked up and threw away the key. I stopped caring."