This story is a sequel to First
Three years.
It's been a long three years, up there in the north, fighting for Equestria.
At last, though, those three years are over, and Rainbow Dash is finally home again in Ponyville. The war is won and she's returned triumphant, having done her part and served with honor. But after what it's taken out of her - and left lingering inside of her - can Rainbow Dash really come home again so easily? Does the Ponyville she once knew still exist for her? And are the ponies she's coming home to getting back the same Rainbow Dash that went out there to fight for them, those three years ago?
Only marked for gore because of a moderate amount incidentally present by necessity in the first part, and it's not particularly bad, so don't let that turn you off if it's not your thing. Most of the story doesn't have any blood or violence at all.
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For how great this story is
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Thanks!
WOW, that was good, like Really good. Im so glad I decided to browse under sad related stories, and came across this one. you have great skill at this. I personally loved it.
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Hey, I'm glad you liked it.
"It always started loud and ended quiet."
Right in the face, man. Awesome.
Keep it up this great! good detail and I am looking forward to more!
Pay attention, people - this is how it's done.
Excellent! I love this story, keep up the good work!
wow...just..wow, man
Awww another great chapter
Me too I love the story as well
That was.....the most amazing thing that I have seen written , the way you carved the words is just.....incredible
Even as a fairly new soldier, these stories hit pretty hard. I haven't had to deal with emotions like this, but many of my friends have, and some haven't coped well at all. Excellent work on a difficult topic and I'm looking forward to more.
Not gonna cry.
Not gonna cry...
not gonna c-cry
...
This....this is tough to read....but amazing to read....
*sniff* I promised myself I wouldn't cry this is so....so...touching I love it, but I had to stop a few times so I wouldn't drown my phone with tears hehe cant wait till the next update keep up the incredible work
This is an absolutely amazing story, you should be extremely proud of it.
4087022 Thank you. I am very proud of it so far. :)
This was just so amazing I cried through this and I could understand why this would have been the hardest for you to write but thank you for sharing this touching work of art, it brought a couple of things into perspective for me so anyways thank you this was an awesome experience
And ... there we are, posted to my Top Favorites where it belongs.
4119735 Thank you. I'm honored to have a spot among your top favorites and I'm glad you liked the story. :)
Amazing work. Absolutely amazing.
Thank you for sharing this story with us.
I think I finally understand what war really means - of course, I knew how dark it is, you can't really grow up in Germany without learning a lot about the past World Wars, but because we talked about them in History-class makes the concept of war feel so distant. Like it's long over.
I sometimes forget that there are still wars in this world, and people who suffer for that reason.
So thank you for giving me this.
It is the most real-feeling thing I have ever read.
And I'd say I'm so sorry to hear that you had to go through all this, but I doubt that that would really change anything for you.
But just maybe, it will help you to know that I and, most likely, everyone else who read this shared your tears.
I will think of you.
4208304 Sorry to take so long in responding to your comment, but thank you for letting me know how this story moved you. Your comments mean a lot to me.
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Oh, god, I shouldn't have read this and Arad's Broken back to back. Too much feelsy PTSD!
You truly have my respect for writing this the way you did. I applaud you for cutting away the bullshit to show the true face of war. I take my hat off to you wdeleon.
I've finally finished reading all three of the stories in this series. They're all very well written, and I think you did a good job of conveying just what it's like to go to war. Even though I've never had to do it myself, and hopefully never will, I feel like I have at least a little better understanding of what it's like, and more respect for those who do. I don't think it's the same for every person, due to different personalities and experiences, but I think you gave a good impression of what it's like for some people. Honestly, I'd never really thought about it before. I was like those ponies who looked up at the statue and didn't really understand. I knew it was hard for some people, but I didn't really understand why. Thank you for writing these stories and sharing a bit of your perspective.
Cue Rarity scream
This story really put things into perspective for me; you often hear news stories about soldiers coming home traumatized and suffering from PTSD, but rarely do you hear about their experiences described in such vivid detail and raw emotion, as was done in this story. This is a really powerful story, and one that I'm thankful for you taking the time to share it with us. Thank you!
I really enjoyed this story. I was never in the military myself, but my father was, and Born in Equestria helped me to see things through his eyes. For this, I thank you.
I don't really have words. I could say I'm sorry, but that's hollow to my own ears. I could say thank you for sharing this with us, but that would essentially be thanking you for doing the things you hate. I could tell you the same happened to my cousin who was in the military, but that doesn't help. What I will say is that I think this is perhaps the most honest story I have ever read. I saw all of this in my cousin when he came back from service, and this really shows me how I was going about reassuring him all wrong. It looks like I owe him (and you, and every other soldier who served) an apology for ever trying to glorify war. The only thing I can offer in return is a smile, a favourite and a wish that you can one day forget.
Seeing Dash deferring to her friend for help and even being concerned about her appearance is an amazing sign of maturity. This is a very interesting take on rainbow because it seems like, finally,finally, her bravado and ego is not the main issue.
5635676 Yep. I really wanted to get deeper than that facade, because underneath that layer of outer shell, I think there's a lot of hints that she has a very sensitive and sometimes insecure personality underneath. I see it as a very important part of her maturing process to open up more honestly about this and ask others for help when it's needed.
This is really well written. I've already added the indifferent sky and vodka-whiskey comparison to my quote collection. And Rainbow's POV is really convincing, shipped back home to fast, no post-war rituals or closure.
Perfect for these far-too-late nights with vodka for company. Just what I was looking for.
You can has review!
6263110 Thanks!
THIS WAS EPIC !!!!! Rainbow went through some real shit, and came back, but she wasn't the same. We teach our children about good and bad, and the we send them off into the world with the ability to kill in so many ways. Their sense of right and wrong is taken away from them, turned into shades of grey. Some have been on the front lines, with only survival instincts to keep them alive. They live on adrenaline, until they are exhausted. When they return, they are not the same innocents, we sent off into the world. They are changed, by a harsh reality. How can you come back to a civilian existence, knowing the things you've had to do ? Some cant. PTSD is REAL. Some will never be the same.
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Thought of this
I'm gonna download an epub of this fic, so I can re-read it time and time again, even if fimfiction.net crashes and burns out. The emotions and the reality of this fic, coupled with that bittersweet ending, makes me never want to forget it.
I'm also gonna save that last authors note, 'coz man, that's some deep stuff that really ties this whole fic together.
The pain is gonna be real in this one. Beautifully written so far man.
This was so incredibly well written, and the emotion behind it so visceral and real. With that authors note at the end I can also see why. I'm actually in the Army myself, and I can't help but wonder if that time should come when I have to do the unthinkable, how will I change, what will be taken from me inside? It's there in the back of my mind, but for now I brush it off until such a time should come, though hopefully it never does.
I should have left a comment on this long ago, as it's so incredibly well-written. For the longest time now, it's been not only one of my favorite Rainbow Dash fanfics, but one of my favorite fanfics, full stop.
I can't speak for any other branches of the military, but in the Army, when we take our annual suicide prevention face-to-face training, the motto is ACE: Ask, Care, Escort. What I love about the resolution to this story is how perfectly Twilight lives up to that little pneumonic. She asks Rainbow what's wrong, she cares enough to support her, and she escorts her to the hospital to find someone to help her. One can only imagine how much further into darkness Rainbow would have fallen if she hadn't had that somepony to help her; if she ever would have been able to find her way back to the light.
I'm not uniformed, and I've never seen combat. I can't imagine what it would be like to be the one pulling the trigger. I don't know how much it would weigh on me; how much guilt it would cause. I hope I'll never have to find out.
Even then, I've had my share of close calls... Over here in Afghanistan, rocket attacks are a near daily occurrence. It's a paralyzing feeling when the siren goes off, and the voice comes over the loudspeaker, "Incoming! Incoming! Incoming!" ...Knowing something that could erase you from the face of existence is hurtling at you. Counting the seconds until the C-RAM goes off, waiting to find out if you're alive or dead at the end of it.
Just a few weeks ago, December 11th, six o'clock in the morning, the Taliban blew a massive vehicle bomb at the perimeter wall, literally about 1,000 feet away from where I was lying in my bed. The explosion was louder than anything I can possibly describe; the shockwave so powerful, it shattered almost every window in a half-mile radius; the rain of rocks and debris against the roof went on... and on... and on. Later, I would walk up on a part of the rear axle from the truck that blew up; a massive, hulking piece of metal. It had sailed through the air like a javelin, probably at hundreds of miles an hour. Gone through the roof of someone's shack, sliced through an interior wall, and embedded itself in floor.
What if instead of falling there, it had come down right above my bed? Well then, I wouldn't be here typing this now—I would be dead.
Grabbing our body armor, feet pounding against the wooden slats as we ran to the nearest hardened structure. Hunkering down there in the darkness, listening to smoke detectors shriek their disapproval. The generators were blowing up in the distance. The electricity had been cut. The sound of small arms fire echoing off the T-walls, so close, it almost seemed to be coming from next door. Who was shooting? Was it us? Was it them? Were they on the base? How close were they? We were unarmed, we didn't have any weapons. What if they came? What would we do?
Now, the giant voice, announcing, "Ground attack! Ground attack! Perimeter breach in sector such-and-such...!" Shining a flashlight in the darkness to read the map, to try to figure out how far away the danger was. The sickening dread when we realized how close to it we actually were.
The sound of gunfire, so loud, so terrifying, it seemed to come from right outside the front door. The order was given: "Evacuate." We moved as one towards the back door. But now, the sound of gunfire from the rear of the building. We stopped in our tracks and looked as each other uneasily. No one knew quite what to do.
Last time I was in Afghanistan, I was here for four months. I came away mostly unscathed. When I went home, I wasn't too much affected. There was only one experience I had that even began to approach post-traumatic stress. This time, I wonder if I'll be as lucky.
Even as I sit here typing this, I hear the announcement come over the loudspeaker—"Outgoing! Outgoing! Outgoing! I say again, outgoing!" A minute later, the sound of a distant explosion as one of our bombs hits the mountainside. We're shooting at them again. And again. And again. And again. It's gone on for fifteen minutes now. Before long, they'll be shooting back. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow... But they will shoot back.
I've never had the experience of serving on the nuclear submarine with my finger on the button, or being the infantryman with the enemy in his sights, or the gunner in the Apache manning the turret. I'm one of the lucky ones. Still, I've seen and experienced enough to say, without one shred of hesitation—War sucks. It fucking sucks.