View source for The Scars of Failure (Pinkie)

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|Date of Scene=2014/09/24
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|Synopsis=Pinkie wakes up after her near success in killing Twilight. But nearly, and successful aren't the same thing at all.
|Thanks=
|Cast of Characters=470
|Tinyplot=
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Flashes. Memories. Vignettes of a past long gone by. They came and they went in a blurred haze of fevered sleep and labored rest.

The look of horror on Twilight Sparkle's face with a whisper of 'What are you...?'

The warm sticky slick of blood making the knife hard to hold.

That brief glimmering flicker feeling of victory before the pain.

These were all recent, but not the only thoughts dancing through a pain addled mind as Pinkamena's eyes flutter.

Fifteen years ago. There was someone close. Someone thought to be nearly invincible, unfillable, untouchable and perfect. Suddenly brought low by madness. There were two other friends giggling in an old shed, actual merriment and happiness. There were six ponies that when united could never be stopped at anything they put their hearts to. And the feeling of always getting left behind.

So where did it all go?

In the choking spasm of pain lancing through her chest, Pinkie's eyes snap open. The room is dark, two figures shuffling within, and the scent of fresh baked cupcakes. The more recent memories started to come back. Victory was in her grasp. She had briefly tasted what she had wanted to do for fifteen years.

And she failed. Not just now, but ten years ago. Fifteen years ago. She failed everything and everyone she loved.

Sitting up brought a new pain with it, but the gentle press of a small hand to her shoulder stays the party pony from picking herself up.

"We thought-" "-We were going to lose you." Pound and Pumpkin whispered. "You were already limp when-" "-We picked you up. The bullet just-" "-Missed your heart."

She ignored the sore stiffness, sitting up anyway to drag the two into a hug that she hated admitting to need just as much as they did, sighing a painfully shivery breath. "Where's my mask."

"Federal Agent broke it." "And your nose." The twins reply. "Please just-" "-Rest. It's fine. We don't mind seeing..."

"I do mind." The Jester whispers, hiding in her own hair, only vaguely allowing Pumpkin to brush it aside.

"It doesn't look so bad anymore. It's faded a lot." The smaller sister replies, her brother remaining silent for a moment before he decides to speak up, "Cranky will be looking for you. He did not seem happy."

And yet Pinkie could only sigh. Her spite would have been justified as an acceptable loss if she had succeeded.

"When is he ever?"