Lost at Home

Lost at Home: A My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfic by the *Secondbestscribe*

Chapter Three: Seven Days

CMC Park Rangers

CMC Librarian Assistants

CMC Buskers

CMC Doctors

CMC Tour Guides

CMC Street Painters

CMC Teachers

CMC Photographers

Down and down the list stretched, up until the very last inch of the paper, which was taken up by the tentatively-written words, "CMC Foalsitters".

Almost on cue, as the mind's eye read this wishful exclamation, the door to the Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse opened up, and in trotted four fillies that looked as if they had been through the Everfree Forest and back. Multiple times. In a row.

Frazzled manes played a big part. So did the black bags under their eyes that could have held the entirety of Applejack's apple stand. The stumbling gait helped to get across the message of sheer sluggishness that was currently coursing through the fillies' bodies. Drooping eyelids and miscellaneous groans filled the air with their tiredness.

Exhausted, all four Cutie Mark Crusaders collapsed in a heap in the middle of the Clubhouse.

"We," grumbled Apple Bloom, "are never doin' that again."

"Never!" burst out Sweetie.

"Pound Cake," muttered Scootaloo, as if the words were sour in her mouth.

"Ya'll didn't tell me that foalsittin' was gunna be like... like... well, like THAT!" exclaimed Babs, blowing her hair out of her face as she turned to look at the other Crusaders.

"Well, we didn' know that foalsittin' was gunna be like that!" retorted Apple Bloom, staggering upright as she slumped forwards in a lethargic parody of walking, moving her legs towards the piece of paper stuck up underneath the map of Ponyville. "An' Scoots, where'd ya put t' pencil?"

"Somewhere," replied the pegasus filly, waving her hoof in a general skyward direction and yawning hugely.

"Now I understand why Rarity never wants to help the Cakes out with their foals," muttered Sweetie, getting up as well and attempting to comb her mane with her hoof.

Meanwhile, Babs was feeling her flank being poked resolutely by something. Turning, her tail clamped protectively over her hindquarters, she saw that a pencil-like bump was raising the carpet up. She looked underneath the dusty woven furniture piece, and drew out a battered-looking yellow pencil.

"This whatcha lookin' for?" asked Babs, handing her cousin the item.

"Yeah, thanks!" said Apple Bloom, her face collapsing into something reminiscent of relief. The bow-wearing filly took the pencil in her mouth and, with a lot of finality and mixed emotion, crossed out "CMC Foalsitters" with a single dramatic strike.

Then the CMC collapsed in a four-way facing heap, backs against each other.

A week. A whole week. Sure, it took time to get a cutie mark. Sure, it came naturally. But they had felt so close. With Babs on their side, now, they couldn't have possibly not gotten a cutie mark, right? Right! And yet... and yet...

And yet Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon still teased them. Well, not to their faces, not with Babs around, but they did it behind the Crusader's backs; nopony had actually caught them at it, but everypony knew. The CMC weren't losing hope, but they were losing energy. A whole week.

At least Sweetie Belle had survived the explosion, though.

Apple Bloom, Scootaloo and Babs Seed ran towards the site of the explosion, capes streaming out behind her. They leapt over ponies, ran underneath ponies, dodged ponies, and in one case accidentally pushed over a baby dragon carrying a heap of scrolls.

"Sorry, Spike!" Apple Bloom had called.

"We-we're almost there!" panted Babs, pointing with her hoof.

The eyes of the Crusaders were directed towards the site of a smoking explosion. The three sets of hooves sped up, and soon they were running past Fluttershy's cottage, and into the shade of the Everfree Forest. The CMCs tried to stop running, but the momentum they had built up carried them further and further, until they cannoned into each other and fell down a dip in the land, yelling and shrieking.

When the resulting dust had settled, and the Crusaders had stopped coughing, they had leapt up and fanned out, yelling for Sweetie Belle. Only when they had finally homed in on the actual site of the explosion did they find her.

Sweetie's horn was coated in soot, and her eyes were spinning in a way that forcefully reminded you of a grey pegasus mare. Her entire coat was somewhat sooty, which reminded you of a dalmatian. Sweetie's mane was now a purple-pink-and-black afro, while her tail was a bunch of blackened fur between her hind legs. Her horn was feebly sparking, and the remains of the cart - and Scootaloo's scooter - were scattered around her. She was also upside-down, against a tree.

"Sweetie Belle!" yelped Apple Bloom and Babs in relief.

"My SCOOTER!" shrieked Scootaloo, her eyes widening in horror.

"Are ya'll alright, Sweetie?" asked Apple Bloom, as her and Babs trotted forwards, leaving Scootaloo to curse over the remains of her vehicle. "Nothin' broken?"

"I-I'm fine," stammered the stunned unicorn. "J-just a bit... shaken."

"We all saw ya!" burst out Babs. "Ya'll were so excited that ya jes'... well, ya exploded!"

Babs finished her sentence with another signature mane-blow. Apple Bloom nodded firmly and offered a hoof to Sweetie Belle, who took it gratefully and allowed herself to be pulled upright.

"Well, the upside ah all this is that we know that we ain't CMC singers," joked Apple Bloom, which earned her a giggle from Sweetie.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo gave a wail of despair that sounded faintly like, "MY SCOOOOOOOOOTERRRRRRR!"

"Ohh, but what will Rarity say?" fretted Sweetie, as they began trudging back home.

"Ah'm sure that Rarity - she yah sister, right? - ah'm sure that she'll understand," assured Babs. "Mah sister always does."

"Mine too!" grinned Apple Bloom. "And ah'm definite that AJ'll be able tah explain tah Rarity 'bout this 'hole mess, a'ight?"

Sweetie Belle sniffed, but offered up a small smile at her friends.

Babs now turned to Scootaloo. "As fer yeh scooter... well... that can't be helped, ah s'pose."

"Yah c'd talk tah Caramel 'bout it," suggested Apple Bloom, while Scootaloo gritted her teeth.

Sweetie's face creased with confusion. "Who, that poor stallion who broke up with that other mare and who looks like that doctor and stuff?"

Apple Bloom raised no objection to this less-than-adequate explanation of the blacksmith, and settled for nodding exasperatedly.