One Lie

by Cola_Bubble_Gum

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Big Macintosh, Granny Smith, Sad, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4705

There are two reasons Applejack can't lie -- her mother and father.

There are two reasons Applejack can't lie -- her mother and father.

(Partially inspired by someone I love very much. :) )

Published 2013-05-05 08:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-05 08:10:01 UTC

One Lie

Applejack knew what was going to come out of Mac’s mouth before he said it; she knew that look all too well.

"Ah miss Mom and Dad,” Mac whispered to Applejack.

That old lump formed in her throat; she could feel her jaw clench. Even expecting it, the sentence always hit her like a sucker punch to the kidneys. She’d known he was thinking of it at dinner that night; he always got that look on his face, that faint little sad look she’d come to know so well.

"You know Ah do too, Mac. But they're lookin' down on us, Ah'm sure," she said. As he'd grown older, the ritual had changed subtly; he no longer asked for the hug, but she knew he needed one anyway. She wrapped forelegs with dry sweat and dirt around his neck.

"Ah know, sis," he murmured. He hugged back while she pushed down the nausea in her gut. She could still remember when she finally told him about why Dad died; she could still remember that he had forgiven her. "Ah just miss 'em."

She could remember it better when he was hugging her. She could almost forgive herself.

"Ah love you, big brother." She stepped back from the hug, and gave him as much of a smile as she could put on her face.

"Ah love you too, sis." The big lug smiled back at her. It'd always seemed like it was really that simple for him -- she'd tell him she loved him, and he felt all was right in the world again. She couldn't imagine how it could be that easy, because it wasn't that easy for her.

He was always the innocent one, wasn't he? She ticked her head at his door. "Ah'll see you in the mornin', all right?"

He nodded, and they both trotted into their respective bedrooms.

It was just one little lie, she thought, and it was a thought that had worn a smooth groove in her thinking over the years.

The effort to hold the smile on her face fell apart as soon as she got in the room.

* * *

After she'd spent half an hour or so staring at the ceiling, she understood it was going to be one of those nights where she couldn't stop remembering.

Bein' honest ain't easy, Applejack, Daddy Cortland always said. It ain't easy, but it's the right thing to do. You want to do the right thing, don't you?

That's what Daddy had said, back when she was a foal. When Momma and Daddy and Mac and the farm were her whole life, and that just seemed endless. She could remember how big the farm had seemed, before she'd ever bucked her first tree.

She could remember the first time, years later, when she thought she was smarter than her Daddy. She could hardly forget.

It was the last day of his life.

It was just one little lie.

* * *

The sun was out that day, without a cloud in the sky. Sunlight streamed into the hayloft, lighting up the pale golden hay.

She'd been given a list of chores, and she'd just finished with taking the last cart of apples into the barn when she realized just how nice a nap she could take in that sunlight. Ah've only got one little thing left on the list; Ah'm sure it won't matter that much...

She plopped into the hay, a little sweaty and a little dirty, but the hay wasn't going to notice. The warmth shined down, and she pulled her hair over her eyes.

She must have fallen asleep, because his voice, throaty and raw -- somehow he always sounded like he had a sore throat -- woke her up.

"Applejack!"

"Yes! Ah'm here!" She lifted her head up, looking around, and realized she was up in the loft; he was not.

He was looking up at her, the sweat of hard work on his fur and hooves. "Girl, did you get all your chores done?"

She blinked. It was that tone of voice -- the tone that suggested She Had Better Have Them All Done. She smiled and nodded, doing exactly what Caramel said to do when you needed to tell a little lie. Look him right in the eyes, smile, and imagine it's the truth. "Yes, Daddy!"

He chuckled and his smile softened. "Good girl. Ah've got more work to do in the dead field, sweetheart. Ah'll be in for dinner tonight; make sure you're in there to help your mom before the sun goes down."

She resumed her nap. So what if one little thing didn't get done?

She was sleeping, so she didn't hear him fire up the tractor two fields over.

She heard the crash, though.

* * *

When Applejack got out of the barn, in the distance, she saw the tractor; it was a tangled mess of wheel and painted metal, mashed up against one of the largest trees in the neighboring field, with dark gray smoke rolling up from it.

Next to it, she saw a little yellow shape with a little brown shape on top of it.

Yellow like Cortland.

"Daddy!" She took off at a gallop. She'd never moved so fast in her life as then; her lungs burned and pain shot through her legs and haunches after the first few seconds but she could not have cared less. Sweat whipped in front of her eyes and breath tore through her chest, but she had to cross two fields before she'd be there. He needs help! Why ain't he gettin' up?!

Once she got close she stopped. He was laying on the ground, and his head wasn't at the right angle. The tractor was on fire, but it didn't matter. He wasn't moving. Why ain't he movin'?

He's just shook up from it. He's just gotta wake up.

"Wake up, Daddy," she said, pushing at him with her hooves. He didn't feel warm; he felt like he should be shivering, but he wasn't shivering. He wasn't moving at all.

The realization came that he wasn’t breathing.

Panic bubbled deep inside and she turned her head just in time to lose her apples. The scent stung her nose. The air in her lungs was acid flavored, and seared her throat. She wrapped her hooves around his neck.

There was a gristly sound, as if --

No. No. NO!

She held on, sobbing into his cool sweat-soaked mane. I won't let him go! "Daddy, wake up. Wake up. Wake up . . . " Snot and tears bled from her face into his hair.

She wasn't sure how long it was before before Mac found her, but she knew it was night out, and he was cold when Mac pulled her off.

* * *

The morning after it happened, the sun blazed through her window. For a moment after she opened her eyes, AJ could tell herself it was a nightmare, the worst ever.

She wanted to believe it was, that last night hadn't happened, but she'd seen it herself, felt it herself -- bones shifting around inside his neck, and the way he got cold as she stayed warm. The last she'd seen of him was when Mac was pulling her away, and he was still laying on the ground, facing away from her. There was no blood anywhere, but he was absolutely gone.

"Applejack?" Momma Winesap pushed the door open.

Fresh anguish washed over AJ. Oh, Momma. What have Ah done?

"Applejack, please say somethin'?" Mom's accent wasn't quite the same as Dad's was; they always used to say the kids got a little of both. Daddy used to say that and smile and everything was right in the world --

Fresh tears were running into her pillow now. She didn't want to talk. What would Ah say? 'Sorry Ah killed Dad?' Sorry didn't mean horseapples now.

"Oh, sweetheart," her mother murmured, and wrapped around her with warm forelegs. "You just let it out now, all right? It's okay."

"It's nuh-not okay," she said, voice snotty; she sniffed and shook her head. "It's n-never gonna be okay again." Her voice climbed into a wail. "It's mah fault, Momma," she whimpered.

"Now, Applejack, I will not have that. I told him a dozen damn times that tractor needed proper fixin', and -- "

"But -- "

"No! Don't you ever let me hear you say that again!" She hugged tighter around Applejack. "This was just bad luck. That'll happen to anypony at all."

"Momma -- "

"No, Applejack. It's not anypony's fault. It's just a bad thing that happened."

Applejack turned over and hugged her mother, careful of the bulge of her mother's stomach. The bulge had only begun a few months ago, but Daddy and Momma had already picked out names for it: Cartwheel if it was a colt, Apple Bloom if it was a filly.

They cried together in a ball of grief until Momma had to go and talk to the policemares about the tractor.

* * *

Applejack didn't want to leave her room.

Momma told her it was all right, the first two days, but the third day, she came up the stairs with a box, and she set it on the dresser.

"Momma, what is that?"

"Applejack, it -- " Momma closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. "It's a dress. They're buryin' your father today. You're comin' to pay respects. I brought you a dress." She shook her head.

"But -- "

"No buts, Applejack. It's what you do, Applejack. I'm sorry." She trotted over and pulled the top of the box off, then brought the dress out. "They shouldn't have to be makin' funeral dresses that small," she breathed out, then turned to Applejack again. "C'mon, girl. We don't have long. Your brother's already dressed, and -- and I need to get my dress on -- " Another tear had started to leak down Momma's face, and she swallowed and shook her head. "Please, Applejack?"

Applejack made herself get out of bed, and let Momma pull the dress over her.

"There. It -- " She shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Applejack. I -- I'd have -- "

"Momma?"

Tears were flowing down Momma's cheeks; her eyes shut. "I could have been savin' more, and he'd have fixed that tractor." Her voice was faltering now. "I -- I just spent bits like it was nothin' -- "

Applejack knew that wasn't true -- her mother had a definite frugality. "Momma, it wasn't your fault!" She didn't want to go against what her mother had told her before -- and she couldn't imagine what would happen if anypony knew what she'd done -- but she didn't want Momma crying, either. "Momma, don't cry," Applejack said, her own voice faltering. "Please?"

Momma seemed to realize her daughter was in the room, and she pulled on a smile that wasn't quite real enough. "Sure, sweetheart," she finally said. "Let's -- let's go downstairs."

* * *

The funeral itself, somehow, was almost as bad as finding him dead.

Every Apple there ever was showed, and there was not a dry eye to be found. Certainly not Applejack's; she kept crying so much that the ponies talking kept looking at her, with pity -- and she could look around at all of them.

The family members who spoke managed -- mostly -- not to cry. They said things Applejack couldn't really remember, things she couldn't entirely hear in the first place.

But one phrase stood out, when Daddy's brother, Uncle Jonathan, had a turn. He was soft-spoken, but Applejack's sobbing had lightened up by the time he was standing at the lectern. She could only make out the first two words, but that was all it took. Mah brother. Applejack couldn't hear anything else after that. The realization just made her weep more.

She looked over the sea of faces with nausea building anew; if she had eaten breakfast that morning, she'd have thrown it up on the spot. Gala's cousin was in that coffin; so was Aunt Pink Lady's nephew and Honeycrisp Apple's third cousin and Empire's half-brother and --

Somehow she couldn't help but keep going over all the ponies she'd killed with one little lie.

* * *

When they got home she let Momma take the dress off her, then got into bed again.

"Applejack, why don't you come help me with dinner?"

"Ah want to be alone," she whispered, shaking her head. She could still see that tree at the corner of that field, and the burn marks on the ground where the tractor had caught fire. The ground would heal, but the tree -- the tree would be there for years. She didn't know how she was going to feel okay again, ever, with that tree out there.

"You might not be hungry, but your brother is, Applejack," her mother hedged.

Applejack looked back at her.

Ah could just say Ah'm too tired to help her in -- The thought was torn in half before it got a chance to settle in her head. No. Ah ain't lyin' again.

"Ah'll come right down."

* * *

Dinner was carrots with apple glaze and hay. Making it wasn't as bad as Applejack had thought it would be, but sitting down to the table --

one empty place at the head of the table

-- made her start crying all over again. "Momma, Ah -- Ah need to go." She shook her head and went upstairs.

"But -- but your dinner, sweetheart!"

"Let Mac have it! Ah don't care!" She shut her door behind her. Daddy's gone! He's gone and Ah'll never see him again!

She flopped into the bed and sobbed; her angry stomach growled at her, part in hunger and part in discomfort. Ah deserve to be hungry! Ah deserve worse! It should've been me!

"Sis?" She looked up to see Mac's head sticking through the door.

"What?" Applejack rubbed her tears away, only to have them replaced with fresh ones instantly.

"Come back to dinner?" He almost seemed to plead.

She hesitated and shook her head. "Ah don't deserve to eat at that table, Macintosh."

"It isn't your fault, little sis. You didn't do this," he said, and trotted towards her.

"But Ah did, Macintosh! It is mah fault! Ah -- "

"AJ, Ah was supposed to be on that tractor. Daddy couldn't find me because Ah was off -- " Thick guilt came to Mac's face and mingled with the concern that was already there. "Well, it don't matter what Ah was doin', the point is, Ah wasn't there when he needed me. It should've been mah neck that got broke, not Daddy's, AJ, it should've . . . " He trembled, and tear rolled down his cheek.

She wrapped around him, her confession forgotten in the moment, and after a little while she agreed to come down and eat. She'd never seen her brother cry before that day.

She didn't see him cry again until Apple Bloom was born six months later.

* * *

After a week or so, Momma called both of them to the table, and said it was time to start working the farm again.

"We'll have to get another tractor," Momma had said.

AJ could only stare at her.

"Nope!" Mac almost sounded angry.

Momma sighed. "Now, Macintosh, I know you're still hurtin', but it let him do the work of two -- "

"Ah'm three colts worth, at least!" He smacked a forehoof on his chest. "Ah ain't workin' with one of those things. No Ma'am."

"Momma, Ah'm with him on this," Applejack said. All she could imagine was a little red shape on the ground next to another tractor. "Ah'll help. Ah'm worth two strong colts mahself, so that's five." She did her best to put on a smile at that, but the ache in her chest wasn't going away. Ah can't see it again.

Her brow furrowed. "Macintosh, AJ -- think this through, all right?"

"We still have Grandpa Macoun's plow. It was good enough for him, and it was good enough for Daddy for years," Macintosh huffed. "It'll be good enough for me and AJ."

Winesap sighed and rubbed her face with a hoof. Somehow, she had never looked quite so tired, ever before, even with the glow on her cheeks from being pregnant.

AJ knew she was being irrational, on some level -- but the pain wasn't worth it. Ah can't do that again.

"I know you two can do the work, I just don't want you both workin' yourselves to -- " She cut off, and when she started the sentence again, her voice had relaxed a bit. "I just don't want you two workin' harder than you have to. Look, we'll talk about this again after the baby comes, all right? For now -- we need to get the carrots planted before the week's over. We're gonna have another mouth to feed by next season."

"What do you think it's gonna be, Momma?"

"I don't know, and I don't rightly care. As long as it's got four strong legs and comes out screamin', I'll be happy," she responded with a wry little smile. She gave her swollen abdomen a very gentle pat.

* * *

"D'you think it's gonna be a colt, Mac?" Applejack asked.

"Nope!"

"Well, why not?"

He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes.

The waiting room was uncomfortable. Brother and sister had taken turns pacing along the polished linoleum floors until Granny Smith had chastised them both, and they'd resigned themselves to waiting.

Granny had come to help Momma after Momma couldn't even do anything around the house, and when they went to the hospital, Granny came with.

When the doctor came to see them, there was a look on his face that Applejack had seen dozens of times as family members had told her how sorry they were about Daddy.

Wait, why does he have that look? AJ felt a tremor in her joints.

"The baby is healthy as anything, and squealing her head off." His lips tightened. "Unfortunately, there were complications."

"Complications?" AJ whispered, trying to think. Momma had looked so healthy when she went in.

"Well, your mother lost a lot of blood." He shook his head. "I'm sorry to have to tell you both this, but -- she didn't make it."

Applejack couldn't think; words fell out of her mouth without her mind making the effort to push them out. "But what happened? She just came in to deliver the foal. What happened?"

"Sometimes a major blood vessel can breach during delivery, and unfortunately -- "

"You have blood for that! Transfusions!" She shook her head.

"She had a rare blood type, Miss Apple." The doctor's mouth tightened, and AJ caught a whiff of something in his expression that didn't make sense, but none of this made sense. "I -- I'm sorry."

"Me and little sis were right here the whole time! Nopony came for us!" Macintosh bellowed. Anger was seeping into his voice. Applejack knew he'd have given all his blood if they'd asked; she knew because she'd have done the same.

"None of you have the same blood type. It was due to a mutation, not hereditary." There was that odd look on the doctor's face again. "There aren't any compatible donors in Ponyville. There haven't been for quite some time, unfortunately."

Granny set a hoof on AJ's shoulder; it was the hollowest of comforts. Applejack tuned out as the doctor began discussing grief counseling options at the hospital.

* * *

The house was quiet when they got back, a few days later. Even little Apple Bloom was quiet as they entered the farmhouse.

Applejack had decided to wait until after the funeral before she made any effort to discuss the farm's state of affairs with her brother, but care for little Apple Bloom couldn't wait that long, and it made the time pass faster. AJ somehow wanted her second funeral in less than a year over with as quickly as possible.

"Young'un, Ah've got into a right tizzy. Help me find what Ah'm lookin' for, would you?"

They had applesauce on hand, of course, and milk. They'd make the strained spinach and strained carrots in the morning.

"Now, Applejack, Ah can handle this! Don't fret none."

She couldn't manage a smile, but she was glad for the company all the same. "Aw, Granny -- Ah don't mind. We'll do it together." It's only right. Ah'm half the reason Apple Bloom's an orphan in the first place.

After AB was fed, they settled her down for a nap, and Granny Smith followed suit, in the guest room that was, by unspoken family agreement, Granny's room at the house now. AJ followed along, to get Granny an extra quilt.

"Right good of you, young'un." Granny smiled her weathered smile and took the quilt, then hugged around AJ. "Your Momma raised you right, y'know. She was a good mare."

Applejack felt a lurch deep in her gut. "Ah know, Granny."

Granny sighed and settled herself on the bed. "They were taken too young, AJ, but that's just bad luck. If Cortland had been here, he'd a saved her."

"Granny," AJ said, her voice as soft as she could manage. "She lost blood. Daddy couldn't have helped with that -- " She cut off as another knot pulled tight inside her abdomen. There aren't any compatible donors in Ponyville. There haven't been for quite some time, unfortunately, the doctor had said. Applejack was starting to think she understood what those words meant. "Granny, what do you mean he'd a saved her?" Applejack said, the words slow and deliberate.

Granny Smith dropped her gaze and shook her head. "Ah shouldn't have said anything. Best not to think about what-ifs, young'un. You can waste a lot of what-is thinkin' about what-ifs, and it doesn't get you anywhere at all."

Oh goddess. AJ made some sort of polite noise.

Granny hugged her again. "Night, Applejack."

"N-Night, Granny."

Applejack shut the door behind her, and before she realized it, AJ was alone for the night, trembling, in her mother and father's house.

Daddy had the same mutation. He could have saved her -- except Ah'd killed him already.

Her eyes settled on the table, only it wasn't just the table now. It was the table where they'd never sit again.

She turned her eyes from it to see the couch in the corner was where Daddy would never lay down again to read the Almanac after a hard day, and every knot in her gut doubled up. Blood started rushing in her ears. You want to do the right thing, don't you? Her father's words coursed through her skull like a headache that was never going to go away, and she felt weak. Something hot and awful bubbled in her stomach.

Applejack's legs started to move under her, taking her through the room towards the door. The walls rushed at her, tilting, as she aimed herself at the back door. She crashed through it and staggered forward off the porch to land on the ground..

She got herself sitting in the dirt on her rump, sobbing and bleating into the night. Her throat burned and her dinner was laying on the ground next to her. Ah deserve worse than this. Ah deserve to be dead.

Heavy hoofsteps plodded out on the porch behind her a little while later. "Little sis?" came that deep voice. Macintosh.

She knew -- knew -- she had to tell Mac the truth now, get it out to somepony she'd wronged before she buried it deeper and it tore her insides up and hollowed her out. Momma's not here to hear me say it anymore, so Ah can say it.

"Mac, Ah lied," she said, twitching, unable to look back at him. "Daddy told me to water the chickens and feed the chickens and unstick the brakes on the tractor and Ah told Daddy Ah'd done all my chores, and Ah told him Ah'd done it. Ah -- Ah shouldn't have lied, Ah'm sorry, Ah'm so sorry Ah killed Momma and Daddy -- "

Big red arms were around her, and somehow that only made it worse. She wailed into the night, and he hugged tighter. "Little sis, Ah forgive you."

"But it's mah fault, Macintosh! If Ah'd -- "

"You didn't know. You didn't kill him." He rocked a little bit with her, and she kept her mouth shut. "You lied, and that's bad enough. Ah wasn’t there to run the tractor, but it wasn’t mah fault either."

She shook her head. "You d-didn't send him off t-to break his neck -- "

"And neither did you! You didn't know what would happen, AJ. You couldn't."

She stopped protesting. She could almost just let herself believe it, with her big brother cuddling her. She almost felt okay about it by the time the sun came up.

* * *

Life went on, as it tends to do. Grief became less immediate, less absolute. Some of it was the familiar comfort of her brother and the antics Granny Smith got up to, and some of it was simply seeing Winesap and Cortland in her new little sister as she grew up.

Applejack didn't blame AB. How could she? AB wasn't to blame.

After a few months, she could tell Apple Bloom stories about Momma Winesap and Daddy Cortland without crying. Apple Bloom would smile and wave her hooves like she understood. "You've got your Momma's eyes, AB," she'd whisper, rocking the cradle. "And your Daddy's mane."

"That she does, young'un," Granny would agree, and it almost felt whole. It almost felt healed.

Almost.

* * *

After five long years, she and Mac had grown, and grown stronger. Where they could do the work of four colts before, they could do five or six now, easy. The farm was their life and their livelihood, just as it was always intended to be. Smiles came easy; farm life was hard work, but it was good work, clean work.

But sometimes there were still nights like these, nights she couldn't get the grief out of her head -- and she still couldn't tell a lie to save her life. Every time she tried, she’d catch sight of that little yellow shape in the distance.

She'd started crying at some point that night, and hadn't realized it.

That, too, was part of the ritual. No matter how quietly she tried to cry, it was as if Mac would hear her heart hurting. He always came in to check on her, and now he was here to do just that, hugging tight around her.

“It’s okay, AJ. Ah forgive you.”

At some point, Daddy and Momma had become Dad and Mom to Macintosh. He'd grown up, just as she had, but somehow he’d grown up more than her. “And Ah didn’t kill Momma and Daddy?” she asked, voice small.

“Nope. It was just bad luck," he said, with that sad little smile she knew too well. "That's all it was. Bad luck."

"Just bad luck," she whimpered back. She could almost believe it, when he looked at her that way and held her while she cried. It was a combination of pity and brotherly love, and she knew he thought he was right about this, and that was almost good enough. He knew the truth and didn't blame her for it. She appreciated feeling almost absolved of the guilt, because it was never quite going to leave her.

Applejack gave him as much of a smile as she could, and perhaps he wanted to believe she believed it, because he didn't see the fragment of a lie left on her face.

She waited until he was out of the room before she spoke the truth as she saw it, in the smallest voice she could.

"Just bad luck, and one little lie."