BUCK

“Well why the hay not?” Applejack said.

“Mmh. Bad cider leak. Yer’ hooves’ll get sticky, sis,” Big Macintosh lied.

“Cider leak? Aw, shoot! How much do ya think we lost?”

“Reckon a barrel’s worth.”

“Well ain’t that just a darn shame. Well, I guess there’s no use in cryin’ over some spilled cider, right Big Macintosh?”

“Eyyup.”

Applejack paused, awkwardly. She contemplated asking when the barrel started leaking, but didn’t want to get herself into more “yup”s and “nope”s.

“Now, yer absolutely sure ya don’t need any help down there?”

“Eyyup.”

“Hmph. Well, okay then. Ya’ll just call if ya need anything, ya hear?”

“Eyyup,” he repeated.

Big Macintosh looked onward as his younger sibling trotted away, gazing numbly at her flank. In a moment of wild curiosity, of course.

He sunk back into the Apple cellar, which, in fact, was not filled with apple cider, but did contain a small puddle of spilled blood and other revolting substances near the center-back of the room; and inside of it, a sleeping, violated Cheerilee. Her eyes were encrusted in tears, and in her inhalations one could make out the very slightest shudders across her body.

The apple red pony hovered over her for but a moment and appreciated her mane and fine coat, now partially tarnished by his actions. He grew tired of standing and left to fix her breakfast.

* *

Big Macintosh scared the now-awake Cheerilee in coming into the apple cellar. She slightly twitched and gasped a little, but recuperated and faced Big Mac to the best of her ability. Her lover took a moment to stand over her and look upon her for a while, then became aware once again.

“Ah whipped ya’ up some breakfast,” he said, lightly setting the fresh apple pie onto the floor. “Ah’ve been thinkin’. Ah reckon after last night, yall won’t up n’ try ta’ leave me again, will ya, sweetie-pie?”

Cheerilee was only barely awake, but she made out the idea of Big Mac un-doing her binds. She nodded a few times, head heavy with blood from sleeping in that awkward position.

“Thought that might be yer’ answer. But if Ah catch wind you’re two-timin’ me, so help me... there’ll be hay to pay.”

Big Macintosh took some rope and tied it tight around Cheerilee’s neck, and tied the other end to a one of the beams holding the cellar up. He then took his knife, and untied her hooves. Cheerilee held her rest for one moment more and shakily began to rise, with the help of Big Macintosh’s guiding hoof. The pink mare stood over her bad flank, back aching, feeling destroyed.

The red figure waited a minute. “Got anythin’ ta say?”

Cheerilee stood and pouted her face, but didn’t look up.

“Look... I...” Big Mac had to say something. “...Now yall’ listen here! Yall ‘re my very special somepony, and if Ah know anything worth the bottom of a horseshoe, one thing very special someponies don’t do is ignore each other. Ah just...” An anxious tear lead Cheerilee’s eyes down the face of her lover, “...I love you... so much... Ah just want you... all of it... Yer juss’ the one I’ve always wanted the most... I’ve lived ma’ whole life quiet like... I’m damn tired of it! I reckon my feelin’s matter juss’ as much as anypony’s...”

Cheerilee had been thinking all night. She knew these things:

She wanted to live.

She wanted Big Mac to live.

These were all she knew after her first night in the cellar. Oh Celestia, she was tired. She felt as though she had been locked up down there for nights.

“Big Mac... You’re right... I... I love you so much...” Cheerilee shocked and awed her very special somepony with a kiss, and a nose-rub. “Your feelings w-will always matter t-to me... honey-pie..”

Big Mac looked down on his Cheerilee with love and tenderness. He puzzled a while and began to kiss her again. “Punkin’, we’re gonna be alright. Everythin’s gonna be juss’ fine, yall’ just wait. I’m gonna make everythin’ fine. Yall’ know what? I think yall’ve earned yerself a present. Now what’s that one thing yall’re cravin’ now? Big Mac’ll get it fer ya right quick.”

Cheerilee, still feeling pressured, hotly made a decision. “I’d just love to go home..” This wasn’t what Big Macintosh wanted to hear.

Big mac closed his eyes for a moment, and turned around from his Cheerilee.

“Ah’ll see what Ah can do.”

Cheerilee couldn’t go home, but she could get out of this dank, old cellar. Big mac would have loved to be with her in the fields again. He’d come back later, to take his Cheerilee out for a night. Until then, he’d just have to find a way to keep his siblings and other third parties out of the apple cellar.

She fought through the pain on her mouth’s ceiling and said, “I really do still love you...” Cheerilee’s feelings were complicated, but no matter what, she would never abandon Big Macintosh. That’s not at all what friends did. Whatever had happened to him, whatever had set him off, she simply had to see to it that he found himself again. Somewhere, inside this monster, the Big Mac that Cheerilee fell in love with still remained.

Big Mac paused and turned back to Cheerilee, and began to stare distinctly into her deep gray eyes. He reached up a hoof and planted it in her mouth, pulling it open and admiring its contents. He observed the scar at its roof from the night before. Cheerilee tried to keep eye contact with him.

“Ah reckon’d you always would.”

He turned and left the purple pony, to stretch out her hooves and trot around her beam, fighting resolutely through her flank and back pain.