Grounding

by MasterThief

After

Bow made his way up the stairs of the hotel, slowly and unsteadily on his hooves. He dared not try to fly in his condition, after so many drinks consumed with his squadronmates at the hotel bar, always with the toast To Absent Friends.

Out of breath, he made it to the 18th floor, then checked every sign looking for his room, only to realize that he had left his room key with her.

He knocked on the door with his hoof, three times. He didn’t know if it was too soft or too loud, if it would wake her or scare her. He waited, and knocked again, a million fears and doubts racing through his mind.

The door opened, and she appeared.

“Bow.” she said, noncommittally.

She hated when he was like this after “nights out” with his RFF squadron mates. And he hated coming back to her like this. But this time, something had changed.

Whatever composure he had failed him in this moment, and he fell, gently, into her forehooves, his wings open and falling down limp and useless beside him.

“I… I can’t do this anymore,” Bow said, his voice shuddering. “I can’t. I won’t. I won’t let that happen to you. I won’t… I won’t let you mourn me. I won’t leave you a widow. I…”

Windy embraced her husband. He felt the soft satin of her robe, her hot breath on his neck. Her familiar, comforting smell. He needed only these things in this moment. He needed only her.

“I want out. I’m leaving the RFF. If I have to make a choice, I choose you,” he said.

Windy held him tightly, as if she was carrying a wounded flier down to the ground, never letting go. She stroked his mane, as he stifled a sob in her neck.

“Are you okay, Bow?” she asked.

Bow could only shake his head. “I’ll… I’ll be fine. Just… stay with me. Please.”

She led him over to the bed, the door closing behind them.

They laid there, in a silent embrace, for a very long time.

Finally, Windy spoke. “Don’t be sad. Though… I know you will.”

Bow looked over at her, the mare he loved so much, the mare whose happiness had become more important than air or water or life itself. He squeezed her hoof tighter. “I was thinking about Dash… what he would think… if…” he trailed off.

“Dash was a good stallion. And he was your best friend. It’s all right to mourn him,” Windy said, softly.

“The best thing I can do for you is make sure I learn from his mistake. That I value what’s important,” Bow said, not realizing the depth of anger in his voice, hoping that she would not be scared away, seeing him in this moment. “I married you. I chose you. I love you. I want you. I… I need you. Nothing else matters.”

Bow was speaking from the pain in his heart, a profound sadness and fear. The memory of Mount Haynier growing closer and closer as he tried desperately to turn towards the logging road in the howling windstorm.

And yet, Windy Whistles held on to him.