“... their actions reflect great credit upon themselves, the Wonderbolts, and the Royal Flying Forces. For gallantry in weather service at great personal risk and wounds, I am pleased to award Group Captain Spitfire, Wing Commander Soarin, Flight Lieutenant Rainbow Dash, and Flight Lieutenant Fleetfoot, of Command Flight, No.1 Squadron, Royal Flying Forces, the Distinguished Flying Star, Second Class, and the Air Commendation Medal with Heart Device. Congratulations.”
Rainbow Dash watched as the assembled Wonderbolts, all in crisp uniforms, stamped their hooves on the floor at Princess Twilight Sparkle’s announcement.
Most of them were wearing wing braces, pinning their wings to their sides.
Soarin had found the rest of the squadron, though he had two badly sprained wings and a greenstick fracture of his right ulna from the force of the Immelponn turn he pulled; he’d had to make an emergency landing himself after he located the rest of the squadron. The remaining Wonderbolts had found the other bookend vortex of the derecho and tore it apart, breaking the storm before it could do any more damage to the fields and small towns below. But it had come at a heavy price. Nearly all the Wonderbolts were out of action, receiving commendation medals for sustaining injuries while in flight.
Dash stood, with a slight smile of relief on her face, as one of her oldest friends pinned two medals onto her dress uniform. She snapped a smart salute with her hoof. “Thank you, Your Highness.”
Twilight closed her eyes, bowed her head, and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”
Dash stood during the rest of the short ceremony. Her wings throbbed and ached from the ripped feathers, strained muscles, and battered tendons, and she desperately wanted to stretch them. But her wings, too, were secured in thick, padded, wing braces, which the doctors told her only to remove while changing clothes, showering, or during her daily physical therapy, meant to keep her damaged wings motile and limber as they healed.
“Now… there is one other matter,” she heard Twilight say, once the last of the applause had died down. “All of Equestria–North Appleloosa especially–is grateful for what the Wonderbolts did for them. And now, it’s time for us to take care of you… and for you to take care of yourselves.”
Dash’s heart fell in her chest. No. You wouldn’t. Please don’t.
“Accordingly, I am ordering all of No. 1 Squadron, Royal Flying Forces, off of flight status per order of RFF Medical, effective until the first day of Spring.”
The angry grumbles, and a few louder shouts of protest, came swiftly. Twilight had just grounded all the Wonderbolts for the next four months.
“That’s ENOUGH!” Dash heard Spitfire bark. “If the Princess says we’re grounded, we’re grounded. We’ll just have to make the most of it.” Dash saw Spitfire turn to Princess Twilight. “Apologies for their outburst, your Highness. That’s on me.” She rendered a sharp salute.
“Think nothing of it,” Twilight said. “I understand completely. Tell your flyers to rest, Captain. They’ve certainly earned it. And so have you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Spitfire replied, and turned to the assembled squadron. “WONDERBOLTS! DIIIIIS-MISSED!”
The squadron, including Dash, Soarin, and Fleetfoot, snapped to attention, saluted, and broke formation. Most of them simply hung their heads. A few exchanged whispers. Dash could see a few desperately holding back tears.
I gotta try.
Dash summoned her courage and walked up to Twilight, who greeted her one-time flying teacher, Royal Friendship Councilor, and above all friend, warmly. “Rainbow Dash! How are you feeling?”
“I’m… managing.” Dash said. “Twilight… er, ma’am, can we talk in private?” In the corner of her eye, she saw Spitfire tilt her head with an odd glance. But the two of them had an unspoken understanding about Dash’s unique position with respect to the Equestrian Crown. So she merely nodded once, said “Excuse me, your highness,” saluted, and stepped away.
Twilight looked at Dash, exhaling, and pointed to a side room for guests.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Dash immediately spoke. “Twilight, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But–”
“Rainbow. Please. I spoke with the doctors. They showed me the x-rays and the pictures. Believe me, I know how good you are at faking injuries. But this? No. It’s real. These are serious injuries! What kind of a princess would I be if I let the Wonderbolts go flying again so soon? And what kind of friend would I be to you if I did?”
Dash felt her face flush and her lips twist. “It’s a pegasi thing. You don’t understand. We need to be able to fly. Look, a lot of the younger Bolts just had minor sprains, at best, they can be up and at it in two weeks, three tops. Won’t even miss spring training for the Wonderbolts Derby, on schedule!”
“And what about the ones who didn’t? What am I supposed to do for them?”
“Let them heal at their own pace! We may be brash, but we’re not stupid. We’re professionals. We do this for a living. We know our limits.”
Dash saw Twilight's horn light up, and felt the straps of her wing braces being removed. The very act of slipping them off made Dash wince with pain.
“If you can open your wings, full spread, right now, I will change my orders.”
“Twilight?”
“You heard me.” Dash could tell when Twilight was joking, or joking to cover her panicking, or joking to cover her twilighting, or joking for any reason.
She’s serious.
Dash made to extend her wings, slowly, carefully, She forced the bones open, willed them, drove them as wide as she could, but not enough.
Dash could hide her clenched teeth, but she felt tears trickling down her cheeks from the pain. “I tried,” she heard herself say, softly, confessing failure. “I tried. I tried. Please tell Spitfire I tried...”
Dash felt Twilight hug her, and she broke.
“I know. I will,” the Princess said as Dash sniffled in her royal hooves. “You always do.”
As Hearth’s Warming was only a few weeks away, Twilight graciously offered the use of the Royal Airship (which Dash knew she hardly ever flew on anyway, save for the most stuffy and formal of state visits to other lands) to bring all the now flight-forbidden Wonderbolts who lived in Cloudsdale home for the holidays. Which happened to be just under half of them.
When Twilight asked her where she would be staying, Dash had originally said she would be going back to her home in Ponyville, or perhaps at the School of Friendship in the old castle. But Twilight noted that Dash had a cloud home in Ponyville that she could not fly to under medical orders, and the School of Friendship would be closed for Hearth’s Warming Break.
You need somepony to take care of you, Twilight said.
Applejack was a no-go, straight out; words had been said between them that Dash regretted and wished she could take back. And Dash didn’t want to trouble any of the others back in Ponyville to put her up for a few months, not even Fluttershy.
And that left Rainbow Dash with only one option.
When she stepped off the gangplank of HMAS Amicitia at the Cloudsdale docks, Windy Whistles and Bow Hothoof were there to greet her.
Dash hadn’t even had time to take off her uniform, and she didn’t know which was worse: the pain in her wings, or the cringe she felt in her chest as she waited for her mother and father to start gushing over their Little Dashie once again. Her father was a cloud engineer at the Weather factory. He’d served, briefly, in the RFF. Her mother was a stay at home mom, who was, now that her only daughter was grown, teaching Flappercize aerobics classes.
I’m going to be the only thing they want to talk about. It’s like I’m their entire life.
Though neither of them said anything to her on the slow walk home over the clouds, Dash knew it was just a matter of time.