In the End

by canonkiller

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sad
Length: 1443

The sun will rise tomorrow.

There are always constant things. The changing of the seasons, the rise of the sun, the bountiful harvest. The things that change are the ones who weather the constants alongside you.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-07-21 04:12:28 UTC

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The grief inside her was a live animal, clawing away at her insides and sending waves of tears down her face. She fell to her knees, eyes twisted closed, and let out an animalistic scream; so full of hurt and anger and loss that it wrenched her throat just to let it go. She was dimly aware of her siblings on either side of her, Granny Smith on the other side of Macintosh, but they were not of consequence to her right now. Her cry dissolved into hiccuping sobs, and her heartbeat roared in her ears.

As far as she could tell, the others were silent; they were crying, but stoically, proudly, defiantly towards the face of death. She had known the end was coming for her dear friend, but she had never expected it this soon, this fast.

The pony who had come to help, her name slipping Applejack's mind, stood up and began solemnly packing up her supplies. She might have said that she was sorry for their loss, but the words were dull, empty, lifeless, forgettable. She must have known the end was coming when Apple Bloom ran into town to get her, but she must have never known the gravity of it. She would never know. Applejack wondered if even she knew.

Granny Smith stood up as well, soon joined by Macintosh. Apple Bloom lingered for a moment before vanishing into another room herself, seeming to be more stunned and confused than hurt. Granny Smith was shaking horribly, and Macintosh had assumed that blank facade he always used when he was hurting.

She stood up, moved closer, and lay back down, absently running her hoof through her friend's soft fur. She had known that the time was coming; Winona had been slowing down, playing less, coughing more, but the suddenness of it all had still hurt. It was only this morning - only this morning! - that she had gotten worse! Maybe it would have been easier if it had been gradual, if she had seen the signs coming and prepared for it, maybe it would have been better if it had been worse; just not like this, dear Celestia, not like this.

Losing her parents, with the loss having ebbed over her lifetime and her time with them a distant memory, seemed like nothing compared to this. She knew that it was because she was so much younger, but she didn't want it to be. She wanted it to be weaker, to make it seem like the absence of her lifelong companion was worth crying over. The others weren't crying, not like this. Why couldn't they show her?

Shuddering, Applejack pulled in her hooves, curling up on the floor with her back to Winona. No, no, it wasn't Winona any more. She had to tear the companion she loved away from what she would inevitably have to bury. The thought of never seeing her again sent Applejack into another wave of sobs, so incredibly loud in the fresh quiet of the house.

For a long while, she lay on the ground. At some point she put her hooves over her ears, trying to block out the thoughts. She was aware of Big Macintosh lingering in the doorway for a time, faltering for words, but he still left the room without saying anything. It was Apple Bloom that eventually wandered back in, gently tapping her sister's shoulder.

"B-B-Big Mac has to take her out now." Her voice cracked, and she sat down, leaning against Applejack. "You have to go upstairs."

Applejack nodded, throat too raw to speak, and stumbled upstairs. She cracked her shin against the stairs, but she didn't truly feel it. It took until she was sitting in her bed for the bruise to start appearing, and she stared at it dumbly for a while. That didn't hurt as much as it looked. Why did this have to hurt so much more?

It was well after dark before she bothered to move. She was hungry, but it was a hollowing feeling that was not so different from how she already felt. Nonetheless, Granny Smith appeared at the door, fresh apple pancakes piled on a tray on her back. Applejack scooted over in bed, letting her sit up with her.

"I know it hurts, sweetie. But it'll get better." She slid the tray up between them, smiling weakly. "We're all hurting, you know. It's not just you. You don't have to coop yourself up here alone."

"I want to be alone." Applejack mumbled.

Granny Smith sighed. "You know, when your mom was just a little girl, she had a dog named Spunky. Spunky was just a puppy when she first got him, and he was very happy all the time. Liked to play with your mother out in the fields. Spunky lived for a very, very long time. One day, Spunky got sick like Winona did. For a long time, your mother begged me to make him better. He was better, for a while.

"But then one day he got very, very bad. Your mother still pleaded with me to make him better, but he was in a lot of pain. Ever since he first beat it, he lost all of his energy, all of his will to go on. Your mother was too young to understand that. She always saw him like he had been when she was young.

"You see, dear, what I'm trying to say is that letting her go is for the best. I know you're old enough to see how much she was hurting. She'll never leave you, you know. I'm going to buy some flowers from that young mare in town, and Big Mac is going to haul some stones from the orchard to make a ring, and we're going to plant a garden for her."

"She would have preferred a manure pile." Applejack said, smiling faintly.

Granny Smith laughed softly. "Yes, she would have. But I think the rest of us will like a garden more."

"I don't want it to sop hurting! I don't want to forget!"

Applejack struck out with her front hooves, hitting something and sending it crashing to the ground. Her vision was blurry with tears, and she backed up as the red smear of Big Macintosh moved closer.

"I want her to be here! With me! Like she should be! She deserves to be with me!"

"Applejack-"

"You don't understand! Nobody's going to remember her but me! I don't - I don't care if it hurts me! I want to write her name in the sky and I want to tell everyone I meet about her and I want her to be back! I want everything to be happy again, with her here!"

"Applejack-"

"I loved her like a sister, and you just want me to forget her?! You have, and Granny has, and Apple Bloom has! Why am I the only one who cares enough about her to remember?! All you do is forget!"

Her legs trembled and gave out, and she fell back on her haunches. Big Macintosh plodded forward, wrapping a forehoof around his sister's shoulders.

"You don't have to forget her."

Applejack blinked, startled. "B-but Granny Smith wants me to move on."

"Moving on doesn't mean forgetting," Big Mac said slowly. "We don't mourn our parents every minute, but we still remember them and miss them. Just because Winona is gone doesn't mean she's not here. Remember what Granny Smith told us when we lost our parents? 'Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they're gone. They'll be in the wind in the leaves and the stars at night."

"'They'll be in the spring earth and the rain and the sunlight." Applejack finished with a sniffle. "I-I guess she won't hurt now."

Macintosh nodded, hugging his sister tight. "It hurts," he muttered, "but it'll heal."

They sat together for a while, silent in each other's safety. Soon enough, Macintosh leaned away. The air filling the space seemed colder than ice.

"I have to go talk to Apple Bloom and see how the crops are doing," he whispered. "I'll be in the north field if you need me."

"I just wish I could have done something for her. Before... I wish we had more time. Her last day should have been perfect."

Big Mac halted in the doorway, his head low. "Her perfect days were any that she spent with us, Applejack. Her last day was perfect, just like all of the other ones. It'll be okay."

And then he walked out, closed the door, and she was alone.