My Baby Sister

“A week,” Spike told her, his delivery completely deadpan.

As if this wasn’t bad news, as if this wasn’t horrible. She’d been knocked out for a week! A week. She opened her mouth, the pacifier once more falling out. Apple Bloom was glad to have it on a strap, because that meant she could put it back in immediately.

“But how could the temperature drop this quick?” She asked next, fiercely glad to have a blanket to wrap herself up in.

Spike shrugged, his eyes as dead as his expression was cold. One thing she’d quickly caught that, while he was clearly glad to have some company, a lot probably had happened on his and Twilight’s end. They’d been apart for months, after all.

Applejack still rummaged through the books, trying to find something “foal appropriate”. Apple Bloom would’ve liked to stop her, but it felt just good to have her older sister here and have her care. That was worth more than any true recognition of her maturity. Nonetheless, she found it apparent how Applejack moved with a limp, still. The gash was still covered with bandages and a brace, much like Twilight’s actually.

Apple Bloom didn’t know if she should ask how that’d come to be. It might disturb Spike, or Twilight, and she couldn’t risk either. They needed to stay here now, because if they stayed here, they could survive.

“There might be snow,” Spike said with a sigh.

“How could there be snow with no ponies to move the clouds?” Apple Bloom asked.

It sounded more like a “H’cult thaa’be shnow whit nuu pone t’ mov’ta claut,” and every word made her jaw feel a bit more jelly-like. It disturbed her how uncomfortable she was just moving her mouth.

Yet Spike, though he took a second to think about what she’d just said, answered to his best ability. “The clouds are all moving on their own anyway. I hope it’ll be a real winter, with lots of grey clouds and almost no clear skies.”

She nodded to that. A grey sky would mean that they could pull the curtains open and dare to glimpse outside without fear of repercussion. That was a nice thought, to not fear the sky, for just a week or so.

“Don’t you have any stories here, Spike?” Applejack asked loudly.

“Twilight took most novels up to her new laboratory,” Spike answered, his voice cold.

He sat on the stairs, his feet dangling from the side. Apple Bloom sat where her hooves could touch the ground. She hadn’t been able to get any reference before, but she was sure that she’d grown a bit since last time. That made her at least a bit of a happy pony.

“I’m not looking for novels,” Applejack answered with a grumble. “If ya don’t wanna help, just keep sittin’ there.”

“No need to tell me, I’m quite comfortable just sitting around.”

Applejack visibly rolled her eyes, Spike gave a little grin.

“What sorta books do you think she’s looking for anyway?” He then asked Apple Bloom.

It was a question she honestly didn’t want to answer. Applejack had brought her downstairs to change her after breakfast and Spike would obviously have noticed the fresh diaper covering her derriere. Still, she didn’t like the thought that he might see her more infantile than she truly was.

But she’d spend months fighting Applejack to keep some level of maturity and it all had ended with her donning some ridiculous garment and accepting her fate.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me something,” she answered.

He nodded. “Sure, whatever you wanna know.”

Her eyes looked past him, where a blanket shielded off Twilight’s space from the rest of the library. It was a blank, white wall without much to it at first glance. However, there was something strange about it. The moment Apple Bloom gazed at it, she felt the magic almost dripping off of it. Such a sensation, however, she had never felt before. Apple Bloom didn’t quite know what to make of it.

“You said Twilight would have a way to fix everything.”

He smiled. “We’re close to being done, she told me.”

“What does she intend to do?”

His hands were folded. They didn’t look like the tiny claws she knew, but sharper, more graceful. They were another part of him that had matured well despite, or because of their situation.

“I don’t know. All she told me was that she has a theory and right now she just wants to make sure it’s the right one. The sky’s the key, that much I know, but everything else is well beyond me. I try to get us from day to day, she tries to make sure we can make it well past that. That’s how we do it, no matter the cost.”

Apple Bloom understood what he meant. Until now, all she’d been thinking about was how to get from one day to the next, yet Applejack’s own situation had only worsened when they were alone.

He must’ve caught her look, because suddenly he patted her on the head. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it through all of this.”

She responded with a smile. They were here, everything would be fine.

“So, what book’s Applejack looking for?” he asked again.

Her smile vanished and she turned away from him with a blush. “A picture book,” she muttered under her breath, hoping he didn’t hear.

But he did. She knew from the moment where he didn’t inquire any further. The filly didn’t need to see his face or hear his voice to know, just the way he let his hand rest on her head told her all she needed to know. Not that she really minded. Well, of course she did mind that he knew, but the contact, not so much. His hand was warm while the air was cold.

She liked his warmth.

With that Applejack found a book she thought readable and walked over to the two of them. She picked Apple Bloom up and placed her close to herself on the floor. The sister’s leaned against each other as the older one opened a book about equine fables with wonderful drawings and large letters for those who could not yet read. As Applejack began to read, Apple Bloom tried listening attentively.

A good book was always nice, so it was sad that this one quickly began to bore her. At least until the point where Spike jumped from the stairs.

“Mind if I sit with you?” he asked.

“Sure,” Applejack said and he, too, crawled beneath the blanket.

“Hey,” Apple Bloom complained meekly as she felt his tail bump against her behind.

“There’s enough space beneath here for the two of us,” he responded.

Applejack giggled, he rolled his eyes and then leaned back as she started again. Apple Bloom, strangely enough, couldn’t quite concentrate as much on the story anymore. It might’ve been because it was boring her, or because she was very much aware that Spike seemed to be slightly taller than her when they both sat. It was hard to not be aware of him, really, and she wondered how ridiculous he thought she looked.

Or maybe he didn’t care, or even thought it cute.

Apple Bloom caught herself for a moment and wondered why SHE cared, then quickly decided that it was just her being weird and then went back to listening to the story. It was a bit uncomfortable and maybe a bit warm, but it wasn’t too bad, either. She kinda liked being near him, anyway.

How long they then spent with the book, Apple Bloom couldn’t tell. She fell asleep halfway through, only to be woken by a door slamming open and Twilight running past them, screaming curses and foul words in Spike’s general direction. The alicorn halted for a moment before them,her eyes alit with fury, and then quickly stormed upstairs.

Spike looked at the single clock in the room, nodding to himself. “Well, that was close to four hours. Quite a lot, by her standards.” He rose up. “Well, I’ll go make her some coffee, don’t want her to get mad.”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “Wasn’t she mad just now?”

Apple Bloom looked up and him, not quite sure what had happened. She hadn’t even caught anything Twilight had said. So she just groggily rubbed her eyes and quietly wondered why.

“A bit,” Spike answered, dry as always, stepping towards the kitchen.

Applejack lifted a hoof up to get his attention, however. “Oh, how ‘bout I make her a coffee. She seemed mad at you, so she might like it more if I do it!”

Spike wanted to say something, but put a finger on his lips, as if that would hinder him from saying something wrong. Instead, he opted to inspect Applejack. What for, Apple Bloom couldn’t tell, but he seemed to come to a satisfying conclusion.

“Well, alright. I’ve got things to clean up in the bedroom now, anyway. Thanks, Applejack,” he said and turned around immediately.

Applejack was more careful as she stood up, gently patting Apple Bloom on the head. “I’ll be back in a bit, just need to make sure auntie Twi has a good start into her day, too.”

An absent minded nod was all she got for an answer, but she eagerly left Apple Bloom nonetheless. So the filly was left by herself in the main room of the library. It took her a moment to grasp what had just happened and even then she just stared at the book Applejack had put down.

Apparently, everypony had just left her for Twilight’s sake. It took a moment but then she managed to sort out her feelings. Apple Bloom was insulted. Not to the point where she was angered, but a mild feeling of annoyance spread throughout her mind like a drop of oil in water. The filly shook her head and looked to the kitchen and then up the stairs.

And then she also looked to the open door that led to the cellar, where Spike was. She could go there and spend a few moments alone with him … cleaning up.

Why do I not want to help him with that? Apple Bloom thought to herself, sarcastically.

She knew exactly why she didn’t want to help him with that. She knew what he knew he needed to clean up and it wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to do. Actually, right now, she had enough problems with her own messes, she didn’t need anypony else’s.

So, what should she do? The only other thing that came to mind was up the stairs. Twilight was awake, Twilight could tell her what she would do to save everything. Apple Bloom was intrigued by the idea that everything could be fixed.

Anything to get Applejack out of that hole she was in and to get herself out of wearing any sort of foalish attire. That was a good goal to have and so she quietly stood up and tried to get up the stairs.

That was, of course, more easily said than done, but she struggled bravely onwards. It took mere minutes until she’d reached the end, but it did at least make her appreciate the concept of inclusive design. With the staircase vanquished, however, what remained were the hallowed halls of Twilight’s laboratory.

Or a white blanket covering the tiny room that had once held Twilight’s and Spike’s bed and little else. Really, it was just a matter of perspective, Apple Bloom figured. It was also not of any consequence whatsoever, as traversing beyond the veil was, compared to climbing the stairs, easier done than said.

All it took was for her to push past the soft cotton to enter a space that looked utterly different from what the outside might have suggested. Apple Bloom held still once she was past the blanket and just stared at the place.

It was darker than the main room or the kitchen, as the only lights were produced by balls of light that just floated in the air and colored everything here in a light indigo hue. The window was covered up with a blanket. It had stars, the sun and the moon on it, but also let no light through. Just like the blanket did.

Apple Bloom did not need to wonder why, as the strange runes glittering on the white were everything she needed to figure out the reason. Twilight had probably cast these runes to keep sound and light out of here, away from her work.

This place looked like Twilight worked here now. There stood a chalkboard, full of notes that Apple Bloom couldn’t make out in the dark. The shelves were filled with books all containing information about magical rituals, the nature of the sun. Apple Bloom even recognised the binding of a history book they had used back in school.

The floor was littered with notes and papers. Most of the work seemed to be done on the floor. Twilight probably had given up on proper studying techniques and did most of her stuff lying down.

Twilight sat in a corner, scribbling notes down while levitating some scissors to do her hair. It was pretty clear that her mane wasn’t the current focus, which also explained why it looked so horrid, and short.

The alicorn mumbled words to herself, words that were meaningless to Apple Bloom.

“Transfigurate … Incinerate … Converge … Ascent … Theocracy … Coffein.”

They really were just words, Apple Bloom noted after a moment of thinking about it. She was used to so much madness that she could see that Twilight just told herself complicated words to keep her mind off the world outside.

Apple Bloom stepped forward, the crinkle more audible than it was even outside. It made the filly cringe and even Twilight’s ears perked up.

She scrunched her nose with annoyance.

“Spike, if this is about the bedwetting, I told you that we don’t need those disposable ones. The quality is lacking and we can’t afford to go out every few nights to get more. The cloth ones will suffice and washing them can’t be that hard. You were taught to be disgusted, so discard that train–”

She looked up.

Apple Bloom looked right back at her.

The scissors snipped a bit too much away from Twilight’s bangs, at least on the right half.

And then the realisation of what just transpired seemed to hit Twilight as she visibly tried to melt into the wall. Her mouth stayed open, as her brain seemed to figure out what words to say next, but nothing came. Instead, the two of them just stood there in awkward silence.

Apple Bloom’s head didn’t do any better. She was quite sure, with the secrecy Spike had whipped up around Twilight’s bedwetting that she’d wanted to keep it that way. Now, however, the secret was ruined. Now, Apple Bloom was officially involved. The filly knew that the next words counted the most.

Which is why the sound she made sounded something like “Phoi”, which was absolutely not the kind of noise she’d wanted to go for. Yet there it was and it pierced the silence in a way far worse than Apple Bloom’s own diaper did before.

And the awkward silence continued after that, as Twilight tried to look around for some way out. There was the window, of course, but right now, that wasn’t really a viable option. The blanket neither, because it only led down, which would mean she needed to confront the person she’d just hurled insults at.

Clearly, Twilight was hit by every single ramification of what she’d done until this point. All her life’s choices led to this moment and everything she’d lived for would find its pinnacle in the very next sentence she said.

And the topic would be a defense concerning bedwetting. Somehow that lessened the tension dramatically.

So the two remained in utter silence, until Apple Bloom managed to break it by admitting; “I already knew.”

Which led to Twilight tilting her head a little.

“About your bedwetting I mean. Spike told me about it,” Apple Bloom quickly followed up, earning a confused look. “He told me to cheer me up!” she said, tears in her eyes.

Twilight squinted her remaining eye, which Apple Bloom took as a clear sign that she was mad. Of course she was, Apple Bloom had just dug the finest hole for herself and Spike to join in later.

“Please don’t be mad,” she said, slower, hoping to calm Twilight down.

“I didn’t understand a word you just said,” was the answer that came.

And Apple Bloom, for the first time, felt relieved about the binky and the rot in her mouth. Only for a moment, though. So she smiled at Twilight, hoping that the tension wouldn’t suddenly rise again.

“But I assume you figured it out yourself. Applejack also started displaying Stage 2 symptoms, after all. It wouldn’t take much for anypony to figure out that a growing incontinence is a sign of the body readying itself for its new purpose,” the alicorn explained coldly.

And Apple Bloom smiled at her for a moment longer. And then she asked, “What?”

Twilight ignored her, eyes transfixed on the notes before her. “I mean, you probably also figured out that that meant that the symptoms were growing stronger, too. The hunger, the song from the sky, the whispers of Them. I’m calling the monsters Them now. Haven’t gotten a proper name. Zombies seemed tacky, also inappropriate. Flameos was Spike’s suggestion, but that sounds even worse. They, Them, is appropriate. Also, because they do not appear to have the same gender as the creatures they occupy.”

Apple Bloom smiled, of course she did. Twilight just rambled on about possession, magic and monsters. She was completely enthralled by her own speech. Meanwhile, the filly just stood there, a bit happy that they’d gone away from the awkwardness.

“Twilight?” she asked.

The alicorn looked up. “Apple Bloom?”

“I–”

Before she could say anything was the moment Twilight rose up. The filly noticed a pacifier hanging from her neck, glimmering with strange magic.

“What are you doing in here? I’m working,” the alicorn said sternly.

“I,” Apple Bloom said and then just ended up stuttering meaningless drivel.

That didn’t make Twilight much happier and she stepped closer to Apple Bloom, visibly angry.

And then somepony else entered the space, as Applejack carried a tablet with coffee and cups into the room.

“Hey, Twi,” she said, smiling at her friend.

Then she also looked at Apple Bloom. “Wanted to be with your auntie, huh?”

“Auntie?” Twilight asked, suspiciously eyeing the youngest filly in the room.

But before she could answer, Applejack put the coffee down in the middle of the room and sat down. “Anyway, I brought us coffee,” she said, gesturing both of them to sit down with her.

Apple Bloom took the chance, moving quickly towards her sister and making herself comfortable. Twilight just looked at the two of them, however, eye twitching.

Then, she sighed. “I need to get some work done, so what do you want?”

“To give you coffee so that you can get some work done,” Applejack answered smartly.

Apple Bloom noticed however, that she both sounded and looked like a dog waiting for a treat. She didn’t quite get why, but at least Applejack seemed happy and this way she could get some information out of Twilight, too.

The alicorn groaned. “Yeah, why’re you staying, though?”

“I dunno,” Applejack answered, looking around. “Is this all for the school project you’re working on?”

“Yes. It’s–”

Applejack turned to the chalkboard. “Is that a picture of a pegasus?”

Apple Bloom turned, too. Now the light was better and she could see what exactly was on the board. Amidst calculations she didn’t understand was a drawing. A crude map and in the middle of it was the picture of a pegasus.

Twilight looked at it, too. “It’s for a spell,” she said, turning towards it.

“What sort of spell?” asked Apple Bloom, knowing that this might be the solution.

“You want to know?”

Applejack nodded, trying to look a bit more important than she was for this conversation.

Twilight rolled her eyes and walked over. “Okay, here’s the thing. Imagine the world to be broken, Applejack, Apple Bloom. Imagine everypony outside gone. When you’re done with that, imagine me finding out that it was done by a single pony. I don’t know who or why. I know that it happened in Canterlot and I know I’m going to. …”

She visibly stiffened and bit her lip.

“I’m going to do violent things for them once I’m done with this. But that’s not important. Either way: The world is broken, it was done by a pony and that pony managed to break the sky and reality itself by destroying the sun. It’s more complicated than that, but also irrelevant. What is relevant is that this spell here, takes five places of Ponyville to create a circle Spike helped me draw out. I made it with the library at the center and Carousel Boutique as main focal point.”

The sisters stared at her, not quite getting what she was talking about. To Apple Bloom, it just sounded like rambling. Well, for the most part. At least she now knew that the apocalypse was pony-made. Wonderful, she thought.

Also, she noticed how Twilight bit her lip again as she mentioned the boutique.

But then her look changed and suddenly Twilight started to smile. “You two didn’t get a word of what I just said, did you?”

Apple Bloom truthfully nodded, Applejack just looked away.

“Well, how about, to make it more visually appealing, we try the central thing of all of this,” the alicorn said, pointing at the horrible drawing of a pegasus in the middle.

“What do you mean?” Applejack said.

There was something unsettling about Twilight’s smile. Apple Bloom chalked it up to the lack of sleep and the general horribleness of the alicorn’s current look, but she was still creeped out.

“I’m saying that I want to play a game of Catch the Pegasus with you two. I think we can actually do it now.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Why?”

“Why?” Twilight laughed. “It’s complicated, again, but I need a piece of her to make all of this work. When we got that piece, we’re basically going to activate this ritual and reverse whatever happened to the sky and everypony. Hypothetically, I mean.”

And there it was, Apple Bloom realized. Applejack didn’t, she just looked at Apple Bloom whether she would think this to be a fun game, but it wasn’t. Twilight had done it, she’d figured out how to save everypony, how to make the old world come back.

Applejack took that look of excitement on her face as consent and turned back to Twilight.

“Well, which pegasus would ya want to capture?”

Twilight nodded. “Good question, easy question. From the beginning, I only had one pony in mind to help us with this. Our most loyal friend, Rainbow Dash.”