//------------------------------//
// V// Story: What You Can't Tell Anypony Else, or Rumble's Reluctance// by The Elusive Badgerpony//------------------------------//

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo wasn’t brave.

She hadn’t made a mistake, either.

So she didn’t have to.

She could tell Rainbow Dash, and it almost felt better that Rainbow Dash knew, though it was probably better for herself than for Rainbow Dash.

They went back to the clearing, but not for training. Instead, Rainbow Dash was pacing back and forth, swearing constantly under her breath and trying to remain calm, something that wasn’t her forte. Scootaloo couldn’t blame her. After all, she was too young according to her mentor. But her mentor obviously didn’t know anything about love or fate. To be fair, neither did Scootaloo, but she was able to tell herself that because she knew how much Rumble liked her, that she had to respond in kind, because that was what love was, right?

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Scootaloo,” Rainbow Dash muttered.

“Scootaloo, Scootaloo, Scootaloo.”

She could tell that Rainbow Dash wanted to say something.

There wasn’t anything to say.

Scootaloo cleared her throat, and then looked away as Rainbow Dash’s concerned eyes burned into her.

“D-Dashie…”

The pet name.

She never called Rainbow Dash by her pet name unless it was really important, and this was really important.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“What do you want me to say, Scootaloo? That you’re too young for that stuff? That Rumble’s too young for that stuff? That I don’t even know where you learned… Ugh, dammit, they’re teaching that stuff younger and younger, huh? Shit… Scootaloo, just tell me what I need to tell you, because I don’t know how to help you.”

“I… I just wanted to ask you something.”

Scootaloo was sitting on her haunches in the snow, and Rainbow Dash now sat beside her, wrapping a wing over her shoulder.

She was the perfect model of sisterhood, or at least trying to be.

“Shoot, kid, nothing could surprise me anymore.”

Scootaloo looked up, eyes filled with hope and brimming with tears, even though her face was already stained from ones shed earlier.

“Promise you won’t… You won’t tell anypony.”

Rainbow Dash sighed.

“Scoots, I can’t. I gotta tell somepony who’d know how to handle this.”

“No…”

“Scoots…”

“No, you can’t,” Scootaloo pleaded. “You can’t. If you let somepony else know, they might let Social Services know, and then he might send me away-”

“Scoots, c’mon. I know the guy’s a bit weird at times but…”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“That’s what he’s doin’ with Silver Spoon!”

“I know, I heard, but…”

Rainbow Dash sighed. “Scootaloo, I really wanna help, but I can’t keep something like this a secret.”

“Is it bad?”

“No! No, it’s not, it’s not bad, it’s just… It’s just not supposed to happen, I guess.”

Scootaloo buried her face in Rainbow Dash’s chest, sobbing.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“He’ll… He’ll send me to the… Th-th-the orphanage… It’s awful there, it’s all dark and gloomy and nopony’s happy at all and the food is cold and they don’t let you go outside whenever you want and I’ve heard and read a lot of really bad things about orphanages and I don’t want to go, because as… As awful as my aunt is to live with, at least I don’t live in an orphanage…”

Rainbow held her closer, sighing again.

“Scoots…”

“I’m not gonna move from here until you promise.”

“Scoots…”

She pushed further into Dash’s chest, and the elder pegasus sighed one last time.

“Okay.”

Scootaloo’s heart finally slowed down.

She knew she could count on Rainbow Dash. Who couldn’t? She was the element of Loyalty for crying out loud! When she said it, it was set in stone, never to be changed. Rainbow Dash would never tell anypony, and it would have been like Scootaloo had never told anypony, except that she had told Rainbow Dash, but it was just somepony else who would share her secret.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but… Only because I don’t know who to tell anyways. I don’t think anypony I know could understand that stuff…”

Scootaloo breathed out in relief, and realized that the entire time, she had mostly held her breath.

Rainbow Dash wouldn’t tell anypony.

Rainbow Dash was the greatest sister any filly could ask for.

She started to speak softly, and she soon proved to be even better than the greatest.

“Scoots, I don’t think I ever tell ya how brave I think you are. You can’t fly, you’ve grown up without any parents, you’ve got just the worst bully on your tail and Miss Cheerilee doesn’t seem to be doing shit about it, but you’re still so strong. I think you might have me beat in pure balls just by living, Scootaloo. You go and do something like this… I would have never thought…”

Scootaloo could hear Rainbow Dash’s breathing.

It was getting heavier.

Rainbow Dash was going to cry.

“It’s okay, Dashie.”

“I’m trying to tell myself that, kid...”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

But Scootaloo hadn’t made any mistakes so far.

Except telling herself that.

><><

So what if she was lying to herself?

Ponies lied to themselves all the time.

Lies made up a majority of lives.

The Cakes, for instance. Their genealogy was beyond a lie. Missus Cake was a two-timing bitch who had done it with not one, but two other stallions. Everypony knew that. But it was better for Carrot to tell himself the lie that he had sired his children. It made it easier for him to sleep at night, for him to change their diapers or take them to the park or do anything for them, because it made him feel as if he was adequate to exist in some way.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Mister Cake wasn’t very brave at all.

And neither was Scootaloo.

Rainbow Dash could say anything, but it didn’t change anything.

Living didn’t make somepony brave, brave things made somepony brave.

Like ziplining or being a bowling pin.

The Crusaders would have to try the latter at somepoint.

It would hurt, but pain is weakness leaving the body.

Is it? Pain is a signal sent to the brain, Scootaloo knew that from the Biology unit from last year. So that means that pain isn’t weakness, it’s an alarm system that something is wrong. But that would have made her and Rumble doing it wrong, because it hurt at first, and it felt good soon after that, so pain wasn’t weakness or a warning. It was something. It was something that Scootaloo didn’t like to feel at all, that very few ponies liked to feel at all.

So that was pain.

Undefinable.

Like Rumble.

It all went back to Rumble.

She was passing by Rumble’s house at that point, lost in her own head as soon as Rainbow Dash had let her go, her face still stained with tears.

A few ponies had asked her if it was okay. Miss Hooves, the silly mailmare, for instance. Cloudchaser and Flitter had passed her by and asked too.

They wouldn’t understand.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo had already told Rainbow Dash, nopony else needed to know.

So she said “fine” and they seemed content to leave her alone thusly.

And now she was standing in front of his house.

On her scooter.

She normally loved to talk about her scooter, about its die-cast construction and its masterful handling, how there weren’t many of its kind left in Equestria, but it all felt so irrelevant now.

It was a normal little place, two stories, four windows, a door raised off the ground a bit with stone steps leading up to it.
Such an ordinary house for an extraordinary colt.

And his douchebag brother.

She couldn’t believe him. He’d done two things- did it with his aunt, which was pretty much already grounds for being a pathetic, no-good loser, and not only that, but he had interrupted herself and Rumble when they were having sex themselves, but when they did it, they did it with love, not with the simplistic, animalistic idea that they were objects meant to get each other off. They were connected now. Scootaloo knew this much was true.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

She sighed, looking into the second-story windows.

Maybe she could see him if she looked really close.

Nope.

It was worth a shot.

The house was longer than it was wide, like most houses.

Scootaloo sighed. That meant that Rumble was somewhere inside. That meant that somewhere in there, somepony was thinking of her. Somepony wanted to be with her at that moment. Scootaloo felt her chest get lighter, and something in her brain told her that she could fly, and made her wings start to buzz uselessly. She hovered a bit off of the ground, but that was as far as she could go. She didn’t want to go farther though, because were she was, she could see into Rumble’s bedroom window, and maybe, if he walked over to it, he could see her smiling and blushing at the place.

That was love.

She knew that was love.

Rumble knew that was love.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

She almost called out his name, but caught herself at the last moment.

No, that would be weird.

Would it?

“Hey! Rumble!”

No response.

“Ruuuuumble!”

No response.

“Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmbuuuullllll!”

Response.

Rumble’s adorable, gaunt little face appearing in the window. His eyes opeed slightly wider, as if he just realized something, but then returned to normal. He disappeared again into his room, but Scootaloo caught glimpses of his mane and his tail as he moved about, left and right, left and right. He appeared in the window again, and gave a nervous little wave, although his face didn’t smile, and Scootaloo’s already melted heart began to boil. He disappeared once more.

He popped out a minute later with a scarf on, shivering a bit when he first made contact with the cold winter air, and Scootaloo could barely repress a sigh.

He came out and towards her, and she tried desperately to hide the fact that she was blushing, to no avail.

So was he.

Rumble was blushing too.

Scootaloo knew he felt the same way.

“Uhm…”

“Uhm.”

“Hey, Scootaloo.”

“Hi.”

They kept their eyes away from each other.

Scootaloo didn’t want to seem creepy or selfish looking into Rumble’s icy irises.

Rumble just wasn’t sure what was happening.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“So, Rumble.”

“Uh-huh?”

Scootaloo tried not to look directly at him.

It wasn’t any use, she had to look.

She looked into his eyes.

They were perfect.

A pair of perfectly round, ice-blue eyes, that seemed to look into the soul with a cool sort of cold, not a calculated one, the sort of cold one might expect from a spring breeze, the cold that causes somepony to stop and breath in deeply, and then let out that breath in a sigh.

She did.

Sigh.

Subtlety was not a strong suit of hers.

“Me and the girls were gonna hang out on Friday, after school. Wanna come along?”

Rumble’s eyes widened a bit.

“A-a-all… All of you guys?”

“Yeah. Three of us. Cutie Mark Crusaders! And since you don’t have a cutie mark either, maybe you’d like to join the ranks?”

“Uhhh…”

He looked afraid.

Oh no, he looked afraid.

“Y-you don’t have to, Rumble.”

“No! No, it’s just… All three of you?”

“Yeah! C’mon, Rumble, do you think it’s uncool to hang out with girls or something?”

Scootaloo gave a nervous laugh.

Please don’t make him run away, she pleaded, please, oh please, don’t make him run away.

“No, I just… I… I mean… Can’t I just… Just hang out with you?”

Scootaloo’s heart made a leap, and she made no effort to suppress a small squeak. She lifted up her hooves to her mouth and giggled behind it. Rumble was so sweet. He loved her so much.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Well, we sorta have to have the meetings every week… Twice. Every week. Not counting emergency meetings. And you’d be surprised just how many emergencies we have to have!”

“Sounds… Dangerous, can I just hang out with just you?”

Scootaloo looked away, and blushed a bit more.

The heat from her cheeks was almost painful in the cold of the late winter afternoon.

“Rumble, what if ponies start talking?...”

“Do you think it’s uncool to hang out with boys or something?”

Scootaloo looked up at Rumble, and he had a silly face on, as if he was trying to raise his eyebrows but only ended up scrunching his face together, and she giggled again, but the giggle kept growing, and growing, and soon she was laughing loudly, her voice echoing around the trees and fences and houses, and she even got a little bit off the ground, only to drop backwards into the snowbank. He was so sweet, it was almost funny.

“Rumble, haha… Oh… That was… Aaaaaahahahahahaha!”

She tried to stop, but she couldn’t. It was impossible. Rumble made it impossible, because he loved her so much. And he was willing to show it by being goofy.

“Scootaloo, it’s not funny!”

Scootaloo stopped laughing for a moment, but couldn’t stop, so she kept laughing.

She laughed because Rumble loved her so much. She laughed because he was ridiculous, because the situation they were in was ridiculous, because even though they shouldn’t have been doing it they were, because she loved him too, because she had told Rainbow Dash, because now there were three ponies obligated to keep everything secret, because if it got out, she would go to the orphanage and live in misery, which was even worse than living with her aunt and living in lesser misery, because as long as she could laugh, as long as she could still find joy in simple things, she would be okay.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo was far from brave.

It wasn’t funny, but that was okay.

“Scootaloo, please, stop laughing, I’m serious!”

“I… I… Oh… I just… I… Ohohoh… Okay… Okay…”

Rumble’s ears flopped, one up, the other down, as he tilted his head.

“You okay?”

“Fine, just…”

He hopped his fence and trotted over to her in the deep snow.

His hoof touched hers as he helped her back up, and their noses brushed against each other, and Scootaloo giggled.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I said… Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“So Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Then Rumble went back inside, and Scootaloo was left back to herself, and the scooter, and the snowbank, and her myriad of problems.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

But Scootaloo hadn’t made a mistake yet.

><><

Maybe she had.

Maybe she had made a mistake.

It wasn’t likely, since Scootaloo wasn’t brave.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

And brave ponies sometimes make mistakes.

Scootaloo wasn’t brave, so she hadn’t made a mistake yet.

Rumble wasn’t brave, and he could never make a mistake.

Rainbow Dash was brave and had made mistakes before, and might continue to make them-

Oh.

Scootaloo was in her bed, at home, late at night, her room a mess, but what child’s isn’t? Although Rumble’s room was almost admirably clean. Just another thing to love about him. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was, Scootaloo had realized that Rainbow Dash might make a mistake, because she was brave, and brave ponies make mistakes that they have to admit to. So what if she made the mistake of telling somepony else about her and Rumble? What if she made the mistake of forgetting that she couldn’t tell anypony? What if she decided that after telling somepony not to tell them to keep it a secret? What if the word got around? What if Social Services got wind of it?

Scootaloo’s eyes widened.

No.

No, no, no.

That meant the orphanage.

That meant being sent away to someplace dark, dreary, cold. That meant cold meals twice a day, that meant ponies with brain problems being her roommates who would threaten her and do things to her, only it wouldn’t be love, it would be sheer blindness and strange, compulsive desire. That would mean no more Rainbow Dash. No more Cheerilee. No more Applebloom or Sweetie Belle.

No more Rumble.

No.

No, no, no.

No, no, no.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

She wasn’t going to make one now.

><><

It was snowing.

And the wind was cold.

But she needed to see him.

It was dark, and she was going fast, but she had a flashlight, and even though it was snowing, there was still the bluish light of the nighttime, the road the dark trail of ink in the snow.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

But she hadn’t made any mistakes. A mistake out here, at this hour, wouldn’t be a good thing at all. At all. She could be killed in a mistake out here. But she didn’t have a choice. Not a one. She had to see him. She had to make sure he was okay with Rainbow Dash. She had to make sure that he loved her, that their love was real. She had to. She didn’t have a choice. Not a one. This wasn’t a mistake. This would never constitute a mistake. It wasn’t.

It was snowing.

And the wind was cold.

And she was going fast, snowflakes seeming to dig into her face like small crystal daggers.

But she needed to see him.

She didn’t have a choice.

She had to make sure that he was real.

His love.

His love, not him. He was obviously real.

Focus on the road.

She did.

It was hard, but she did, because she didn’t have any other choice. Take the eyes off the road, she could hit a rock, and then she would be flying for the briefest of moments, and then she would hit a tree and break all of her legs and her back, and then she would bleed out internally. It would be an awful way to go. She simply didn’t have the reinforced bone structure of a normal pegasus yet. She couldn’t afford mistakes. She wasn’t brave enough to make them.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

It also takes somepony brave to make mistakes in the first place.

And Scootaloo hadn’t made a mistake.

She hit a rock.

She hit a rock, and her ride became wobbly, and she began to panic. Not a moment later, she hit a patch of ice, and the scooter began to bounce about on its wheels, staying on one corner, then another corner, then another, bouncing over the ice, lacking suspension to properly compensate. Scootaloo couldn’t do anything but scream in fright, adrenaline pumping through her veins, snow flying in her face as she tried desperately to regain control.

Take the eyes off the road, she could hit a rock, and then she would be flying for the briefest of moments, and then she would hit a tree and break all of her legs and her back, and then she would bleed out internally. It would be an awful way to go. She simply didn’t have the reinforced bone structure of a normal pegasus yet. She couldn’t afford mistakes. She wasn’t brave enough to make them.

She was making a mistake.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo wasn’t making a mistake.

The rock made the mistake.

Or the scooter.

Not Scootaloo.

She almost fell off of her trademark transportation when it finally stopped bouncing and slipping on the ice, and she slumped over the handlebars, panting.

She didn’t make a mistake.

She still wasn’t brave.

That was okay.

Because while somepony brave will admit their mistake, a lot of brave ponies have died.

Soldiers.

Firefighters.

Policemares and Royal Gaurds.

Scootaloo wasn’t dead.

And she wasn’t brave.

Maybe she was stupid.

It didn’t matter.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

All that mattered was getting to Rumble’s house as fast as possible.
><><

She made it.

It was a different place in the dark.

It was short, squat, “fat” a word that came to mind in describing it’s proportions, the gray paint looking black in the complete darkness, the porchlight turned off, drowning the place in darkness.

She leaned her scooter against the gate and crept up to Rumble’s house.

It was a different place in the dark.

In the dark, she had to rely on just touch to guide her way, tracing her hoof gently along the faux-wood sidings of the house, feeling the plasticness, the cheapness, and yet in the daytime she couldn’t tell the difference, she couldn’t see past the façade. Even in the dark, she didn’t want to see past the façade. It was better living the façade, better feeling good through it, better not paying attention to it. Because as long as she lived the lie, she didn’t make mistakes. Her hoof came upon a drain pipe, and she almost let out an audible squeak of victory. But she kept it to herself.

She started to climb.

Hoof over hoof.

Not looking down, but up, at her destination.

The window.

Within, all of her problems would be fixed. Within, she could pour her heart out to her love, within, he would listen to her with his eyes open the entire time. Within, she wasn’t just another pony. She was Scootaloo. Scootaloo to Rumble. Within, she was in love, and loved by somepony in love with her. Within resided the heart and mind that she had taken for herself, in which she had made herself an indomitable fortress, in which she could love and be loved in. Within, she made no mistakes.

Nothing she had to admit to.

Nothing she had to be brave about.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo wasn’t brave.

She had told her that a billion times.

Yet somehow, she felt at least brazen, stepping out onto the scaffolding and gently pushing in the windows, thanking Celestia that Rumble never bothered to close them.

Rumble had made a mistake.

How brave of him.

><><

He looked so calm.

He looked so complacent.

It was adorable.

It was why she loved him so much.

Because of how he looked.

It was shallow now, but she knew that it ran deeper then that. Right now, she just needed security. She needed affirmation. Right now she needed Rumble more than she had even needed anything else. It wasn’t a craving or a lust. It was a pure, mechanical necessity, like food, water, shelter. It was the pure, mechanical requirement of it that had been driving her crazy.

She needed to hear it from him.

She gently, silently clambered into his bed, slipping underneath the covers with a subtlety and speed that surprised even her.

All he did was tighten his eyes slightly.

Perhaps she was agitating a nightmare.

Poor Rumble.

She knew how to make him feel better.

Her chest pushed up against his back, and she suppressed the content hum that almost escaped from her lungs, settling for a simple sigh.

It was still too much.

His eyes opened.

He gasped.

“Aaahmmmmph!”

Scootaloo threw her hooves over his mouth, shushing him, but he kept struggling against her.

“Rumble! Rumble, calm down, it’s just me!”

“Mmmmph! Mmmph! Mmmmphlmmph!”

“Rumble! Just… Shhhhh…”

Rumble kept struggling, more weakly.

“Rumble, it’s me, Scootaloo, c’mon, just… Just calm down for me, please, just for a second…”

She wrapped her rear hooves around his body, and he wriggled weakly, his breath ragged.

“You’re gonna be quiet?”

Rumble nodded.

Scootaloo cautiously took away her hoof, licking the inside of Rumble’s ear, making him turn just a bit red.

It was so cute.

“Wha… Scootaloo, what are you… What are you doing here? What time is it?! Sweet Celestia, it’s after curfew, obviously, I mean…"

“Rumble…”

How did she say this?

How did she vocalize so much doubt? Not that she had it. There was no doubt in her mind. All of the lies that she had told herself made it so that there wasn’t any doubt. There was no need for doubt. It was fact. She loved Rumble and Rumble loved her back in full. There was no other way about it. There was no debilitation on the matter. It was true. She knew it was true, because she had told herself, and she wasn’t brave enough to tell herself the truth, because the truth was a mistake, because it wasn’t true at all.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Do you love me?”

“I… Wha…”

“Rumble, do you love me? Like, do you really love me? Like do you think we have… Something? We’re like connected and all of that cheesy stuff?...”

Rumble didn’t say anything.

He just breathed.

“Wha… I…”

“Rumble?”

“I… Yeah?”

“Rumble, please say ‘yes’, please, please say yes…”

“Why… Why do you need…”

She gulped.

“Rumble… I…”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“You… I mean, I know you… You love me, I mean, or like me or… Something… It feels nice…”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Rumble, I… I did something dumb.”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Wha…”

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo was going to be brave now.

“I… I told Rainbow Dash about us.”

Rumble didn’t say anything.

Scootaloo was on the verge of tears again.

“Are you mad? Do you still love me?”

“No…”

“Rumble, I’m really, really sorry, I… I couldn’t get out of it, she… I…”

“I-it’s okay.”

Scootaloo sniffled.

“Really?”

“Y-yeah…”

Rumble had rolled over to face her, and his chest pressed up against Scootaloos, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat against her right breast, and hoped that he could feel her rapidly accelerating heartbeat in his.

She felt something else too poking at her stomach.

She closed her eyes.

“Rumble, since I… Since I told somepony, you get to tell somepony too, okay? I won’t beat you up, I’ll never beat you up, Rumble, I was scared when I told you that, I…”

“It’s fine. I don’t have anypony I can tell.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

They laid there, just breathing, for at least another minute. Rumble had his eyes wide open, clearly confused, but at the same time holding an element of concern. Scootaloo’s eyes opened and shut slowly, batting tears away, and she wrapped her forehooves around his shoulders, holding him close, trying to tell herself all of the lies she told herself before, hoping that they weren’t lies and that the truth was lies instead.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo had made sure that there would be no mistakes tonight.

“You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Rumble, do you love me?”

He was silent for a moment.

“…Rumble, please…”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head forward.

It happened.

Their lips connected, and Scootaloo let out a small, muffled squeak, and it all just seemed to freeze for a moment, a picture being taken in her mind, her eyes the shutters, snapping shut and pushing back, but not taking what she wanted.

He pulled away first, and he started to giggle.

Scootaloo was giggling too.

She couldn’t help it.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“I… Uhm… Uh… Does that answer the question?”

It didn’t.

But Scootaloo nodded, because she wanted to believe that it did.

He was still hard in between them, and Scootaloo rolled over on top of him, and his look of contentment turned to one of anxiety.

“Scootaloo-“

“Shhh, it’s okay, I still owe you from last time, remember?”

“But-“

“Shhhhh. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Y-you…”

He looked away from her, tears seeming to form in his eyes.

No.

No, no, no.

No, no, no.

“Rumble, calm down!”

He was sobbing, tears streaming down his face, his eyes closed as he shuddered with sudden emotion.

“I-I-I can’t! I… I just… I…”

“Rumble…”

She pushed her face against his, she pressed their lips together, humming into the second kiss of the night, but to no avail.
Rumble was still crying.

“Rumble, please… Just let me do this…”

“I…”

He sniffed.

“I-I-I-I can’t, I…”

“Rumble, you’re hard, you need this, I’m giving it to you… Please, let me do this…”

Rumble swallowed.

Scootaloo’s heart fluttered. The thought briefly crossed her mind that this was her fault. This was her mistake. She had taken this wonderful colt and turned him into a slave to his own desire. He didn’t have anypony but himself and her. The only thing he could rely on was his rapist, his obsession, and her obsession with him, her love for him, and hopefully his love for her. She had made him into who he was. She had made him cry.

She always told herself that making others cry was bad.

But she couldn’t tell herself that now.

Because it wasn’t anymore.

Because she wasn’t brave.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Rumble swallowed again.

“I… I know, Scootaloo. I… Just… Can I… I want you to be… Under me. Please.”

“Really?”

Rumble nodded, and sobbed again, and Scootaloo gave him another kiss.

“Okay. Just calm down… Just calm down…”

She rolled onto her back, and sighed.

“C’mere, Rumble…”

Rumble just sniffed and nodded again.

It was strange-feeling, him standing over her.

But it also felt right.

He was still sniffling.

Scootaloo brought a hoof up to his cheek, smiling at him.

“It’s okay, Rumble…”

“I… I just… I…”

He laid his head on her shoulder, sobbing gently into it.

“It’s… It’s all just… I just…”

Scootaloo held him close, her forelimbs around his shoulders.
“Shhhh…”

Something warm and firm poked her thigh, and she hummed slightly.

He was still sobbing.

“It’s okay, Rumble…”

“I… I can’t.”

Scootaloo let go of him slightly, wrapping her rear limbs around his waist, looking into his eyes.

“Yes you can, Rumble.”

“N-n-no, I…”

“Rumble, please. I want you to do this. For me.”

He sniffed deeply, breathing out.

“Okay.”

“You okay?”

“Mmmhmm…”

His voice sounded strained. Scootaloo held him close again.

“Just close your eyes.”

“Oh… Okay…”

He did as he was bidden.

And he slowly brought his hips forward.

He slowly brought it closer.

Closer.

Contact.

It was electric. It was euphoria personified, a single feeling, and he hadn’t even gone into her yet. Scootaloo hummed, gripping Rumble close, her mouth over his neck as she waited for him to go further. He breathed in, shakily, as if he was still that frightened colt who she had forced down almost a week ago. But that was irrelevant. That was the past. She was where she was now because they loved each other.

He entered.

Scootaloo bit down, and he gritted his teeth together.

“Nnnk…”

“S-sorry, Rumble, I…”

It was astounding just how good it was, and all he had done was stick the head in so far.

“…More, please, Rumble.”

Rumble nodded, and pushed forward.

Scootaloo stuck a hoof into her mouth to repress the squeal that threatened to rip from her throat. It was so firm, so warm, so thick, so long for his age, and it slowly advanced into her tunnel, pushing apart her flesh, sending electric pulses of pure pleasure into her brain, shockwaving out through her body, which tensed, holding him where he was.

He bottomed out, and Scootaloo hummed.

She felt full in a way, fulfilled, and yet with a growing crave for more.

Rumble seemed to rest, breathing shakily on her shoulder as she mewled helplessly under him.

“Am I… Is it any good?”

Scootaloo giggled, and nuzzled into Rumble’s neck.

“I-i-it’s just… You’re so goooood, Rumble… It’s really gooood…”

“Really?”

Scootaloo hummed again, and her muscles clenched, and another pulse of pleasure ran through her tiny body, making her coo.

“Why would I… Mmmm… Why would I… Lie to you… Ahmmmph…”

Rumble pushed his face into her neck.

She had many reasons to lie to him, mostly the same ones as she had to lie to herself.

But they were irrelevant.

It was just wonderful, how they were connected now. She could feel everything about him. The slight angle of his penetration pushing against her walls in a way that made her squeal, the vicious liquids that seeped out of her as he pushed in, and then pulled out, making small, short little thrusts, trying not to do anything too hard, or too fast, or too anything. He didn’t seem motivated to do so. Rumble simply held his head against her neck, his breath coming in small, shaky bursts, as he continued to hump her, softer than a summer sun cloud. She could feel everything about him. The many small veins on his length, pulsing with blood and arousal, the tip dragging against her tunnel, plugging into her, sending convulsive waves through her entire body, but focused at that single, seemingly small point between her legs. Her nethers where on fire, she needed more…

“R-Rumble…”

“Mmmh…”

“Rumble, go faster…”

Rumble merely nodded.

He went faster, and everything multiplied. Quiet moans turned into barely-repressed squeals of ecstasy, the shockwaves came faster, practically overwhelming her, smothering her in a blanket of pleasure that fired off in every neuron of her body at once, causing her to grip onto Rumble more tightly, in more ways than one. Her marehood clenched again and again, trying to hold Rumble’s length in place, but it refused, preferring to keep pumping itself at it’s now more confident pace. Scootaloo had to consciously remind herself to keep quiet, it was all so much, all at once…

“Mmmmmmmh…”

“R-Rumbllllle…”

“Fuck…”

He said it.

The word that he had said on the playground.

The word that had kept him out of class that day.

Scootaloo started getting concerned. Rumble’s thrusts became more forceful, his lips tracing messily over her neck, his grunts seemed more and more animalistic. She noticed for the first time how much his mane was in disarray, how his eyes no longer had a glint to them, instead resigning to a blankly lustful look, his mouth open, his breathing more steady. She could still feel the incredible pleasure, but there was something nagging her in the back of her head that something was wrong with him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Scootaloo closed her eyes and let him do his thing. She owed him this, after all. They had been interrupted, after all.

Something was off.

“Fuck!”

He had cried out, softly, in a loud whisper, to accentuate a rather forceful thrust, which he repeated.

“Fuck!”

Again and again.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!...”

Scootaloo had had enough.

“Rum… Rumble… Ahh! Stop…”

He didn’t stop.

“Fuck!”

He wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck!”

He was going to take what he wanted.

All of a sudden, Scootaloo became very scared.

“R-Rumble!”

It felt good, but she wanted him to stop.

“Fuck!”

This was a mistake.

“Fuck!”

But Scootaloo wasn’t brave.

“Fuck!”

Scootaloo had made a mistake, but she wasn’t brave.

Just stupid.

“Rumble, please, please, Rumble, stommmmph!”

Rumble had stuffed a hoof into her mouth to keep her quiet, as her voice had been rising, and he looked into her eyes with a look of slight recognition, as if he had realized what he was doing.

He smiled.

A weird, half-smile, with half-lidded eyes.

Scootaloo had seen that look before.

Almost a week ago, she had worn it.

Now she was scared.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

“Fuck…”

Scootaloo gave a muffled protest around the hoof, but it didn’t stop anything.

Rumble sped up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

It was too much. Too many electric impulses of pleasure rending into her brain. Too much fear now coursing through her, the realization of what was happening, what she had allowed to happen, what she had created, it seemed to fill her with immense shame, but also a small sense of pride, because Rumble would have refused if he didn’t love her. And he loved her.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

Scootaloo gave a cry, unheard of around his hoof, and she let go of everything in her climax. Juices flooded around Rumble’s shaft out onto the bedsheets, and she squealed as Rumble seemed to speed up, spurred on by how tight her walls had gotten, and in mere moments, he groaned, shooting into her, his seed mixing with her juices, and it all seemed so wrong but so right at the same time, and he didn’t stop.

“Fuuuuuuuuck… Fuck… So fucking… Fuck…”

Rumble collapsed on top of Scootaloo, and he closed his eyes, taking his hoof out of her mouth.

And Scootaloo started to cry.

><><

“I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, Rumble, it’s my…”

“No, no, Scootaloo, I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Rumble, y-y-you didn’t…”

He seemed to spend the rest of the night holding her, apologizing, sometimes he was crying, sometimes she was crying, but many tears were shed that night.

And they decided it would be best to be brave and admit it.

It takes somepony brave to admit their own mistake.

It was a mistake.

It wouldn’t happen again, not this way.

It was both of their faults this time.
