My Baby Sister

“Stupid diapers,“ was about all she managed. “Stupid playroom, stupid baby toys, stupid ...“

She didn't quite know what else she could be angry about, but everything at once seemed a good option. Apple Bloom groaned. “Stupid end of the world.“

She would've missed the days with the other crusaders anyway. If one were to compare the current times to the ones before, she had lived in such luxury. Sure, there had been Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon's never ending string of bullying, but at least she hadn't been stuck with a pacificier in her mouth. Sure, some of their attempts at getting cutie marks had ended unpleasantly for everyone involved, but at least she could still go to the pott–the toilet whenever she wanted. Heavens, even when they'd gotten hurt it'd been a temporary problem.

She moved the pacifier in her mouth, the taste lingering. It soothed the pain, and the one-eyed alicorn had told her that it was a means to an end, that she was still a grown filly, but that didn't change the fact that it felt infantile. Apple Bloom hated feeling infantile.

She looked at the cactus. “Emerald,“ she muttered. It was the name of the toy now, but it felt wrong. “Humphrey,“ she said.

“That's Humphrey,“ Diamond Tiara had told them, once, when she had slept over.

In Apple Bloom's memory, Sweetie Belle had squealed with glee over finding a cactus-buddy, while Scootaloo had frowned, since she'd always preferred vicious animal-stuffies that she could pretend to fight and vanquish. Still, that one sleepover had helped them all a lot. They'd gotten to see another side of DT, had gotten some of their own problems out of the way, and all at only a tiny cost. A cost that had already dissipated in the sands of time.

“Humphrey,“ the filly intoned again, feeling the rubber move in her mouth. “You've lost yer friend too, huh?“

Out there, in the well, Scootaloo would cry for somepony to get her out, and nopony would answer. Out there, somewhere, DT probably walked through the town, looking for her parents, crying and being hurt and all alone. And I'm here, unable to help any of them. I'm too busy playing with childish toys and wetting my diapers.

A bitter smile forced itself onto her face. The more she thought about it, the less she wanted to be here, the less she wanted to be as weak as she was. There was so much to do, so much she could at least try.

She took the cactus in one arm and looked at her diapers. Apple Bloom thought of when she'd woken up. The filly had been dry and so happy about it, the thought left an incredibly bitter taste in her mouth now. It had felt so good, since it all had started with a wet bed.

The first night always came back to her, how the sheets had been soaked through, how icky it felt on her coat, and how the humiliation had burnt like a fire. Tears had come easy then, and she had wailed much like Scootaloo, only that there'd been no hunger, no real fire turning her insides to cinders. She had wailed endlessly, but nopony had come to aid her, and so she had gotten up and looked for her sister.

“Applejack,“ she had asked against the silence, but nopony had answered.

She had walked across the room, empty except for an old box and their beds. Applejack hadn't been there, and so Apple Bloom lifted the trapdoor and stepped onto the ladder. She remembered somepony knocking on the door, but ignored them. They couldn't break through the lock when a barrel had been placed beneath it, and she had felt safe then.

Her sister had been with the cider barrels, one broken open beside her. She had cried herself through the night after seeing the clear nightsky and running away from the family she loved so much. Apple Bloom remembered how much of a mess her mane had been, how red her eyes'd been and how she tried to curl herself into a ball. The sound, the pitiful whimpering, still lingered in her head, and back then it had almost made the thoughts of the humiliating accident disappear.

It had driven her to embrace her dear, big sister, pull herself tightly towards her. She remembered the feeling of her sister's tears against her cheek, the faint smell of urine that lingered on herself and she remembered how Applejack's eyes lingered on a place far, far away.

Back then, she hadn't known how to deal with it, yet she'd eventually gotten her sister to sneak to the library in the dark of the night, after her jaw had also started to hurt and her bladder control had started a vacation to Anywhere-but-here-land. Applejack had only started to move when it all had become unbearable for the younger filly.

A pacifier and diapers'd been the solutions the alicorn proposed, and Spike had giggled at that. The girl herself had tried to hate it all, but when she failed to put that blasted garment on, her sister had walked over to her and helped her, even giving her some reassurance.

She'd looked alive again, and on the way back she promised Apple Bloom some toys to make up for the trouble. Apple Bloom had wanted to hate her for it, but the mare seemed so happy to take care of somepony, to know that somepony was still alive and still needed her.

The cactus looked at her, as if to say, You're already helping one pony. That's a start isn't it?

Apple Bloom grinned. “A start, but what if it all gets worse?“ A laugh escaped her. “My legs grow weaker, I can't take that pacifier out for too long, unless I really wanna know what pain feels like, and I doubt I'll only use my diapers one way for much longer. There's not much of a big pony in me left.“

The cactus didn't respond, it never did. And only children talk to their plushtoys.

She was helping, like a responsible adult. She was turning her own, unfortunate situation into something great. Trying her best, like always, that's what she did.

The filly heard somepony knocking in the distance.

“It's strange,“ Apple Bloom spoke out loud. “A part of them still remembers us, a part of them still wants our help. BigMacintosh's body was burnt up though. I could see his ribs, they were like coal, all cracked and the cracks had a light within them. He told Applejack to run, you know, despite ... He told us to live despite how much it must've hurt. A part of him still wanted to make sure we were safe.“

She paused, her expression empty.

“Applejack's gone mad, and if I succumb to the pain, she won't bear to live on, will she? I …“

Her eyes went over the playroom. It was designed like it was for a toddler, and though she could play with all the things her big sister had gotten for her, her thoughts always brought her back to the real world. She couldn't be a foal, she could never be a foal, no matter how much this sickness burnt through her, how much her sister pretended she was as helpless as a newborn. And yet she had to. She was stuck between the world she belonged to, the world she wanted to belong to, and the world where she was needed, where she was expected to be now.

“For what?“

Only silence answered her call. Once, somepony would've helped her find an answer. Be they dear friends, family, some teacher or a princess, protecting her in the night. None were here now, and Applejack couldn't help her, all she could do now was coo and pretend that things were better than they were, even as she risked her life to walk outside when Apple Bloom slept.

“You two need to go back. Tomorrow night, I'll prepare protection spells around your house, so you're safe there during the day. Stay there, and maybe you'll grow better,“ was what Twilight had told her, before she and Applejack had gone.

That, and; “Protect Applejack.“

Apple Bloom looked at her diaper, looked at her bane. Maybe she would feel better if she could finally rid herself of them, but only maybe. Applejack had spoken of getting her potty trained, like she'd never known how to use the pott–the toilet before. And even if they'd start, Apple Bloom didn't know how that would look. A part of her hoped it wouldn't involve a star chart, another part of her knew that Applejack had probably found some old one somewhere around town.

As long as they wouldn't meet any other survivors it'd be okay.

She looked at the cactus and ried to imitate a canterlot-accent. “Oh, hello fellow living pony. I see ya'll are safe, and your sister's wearing diapers.“

Then she pretended to be Applejack. “Not for long, she isn't. We're already potty training her, just look at the chart, how few brown stars she has.“

Apple Bloom paused, and then hugged the cactus fiercely, which was much more comfortable than one might think.

“I'm gonna die.“

Between just wearing diapers full-time and her sister pretending that she was a baby foal, and wearing diapers but getting measured how often she'd fail to make it to the pott–the friggin' toilet, she had no idea which was the lesser evil. Probably the first one, since if her body grew weaker, it would end up that way no matter how long she'd pretend it could go differently.

“An adult faces the responsibilities,“ the cactus said.

Or rather, she pretended that the cactus said that.

“Facing responsibilities by pretending to be younger than I am? How messed up is this?“

What she wanted was somepony telling her how to go about this, how to deal with the situation. Right now she was stuck, with no proper way to deal with this situation.

She felt something in her stomach just a moment later, though she dismissed it, if only for a moment. And then she realized exactly what that feeling was, and almost spit her pacifier out.

“Oh no,“ Apple Bloom said and rose to her hooves.

She felt lightheaded and her front legs gave in immediately. The filly wasn't quite standing and she was falling down already, the feeling in her stomach becoming a pain. Something was moving inside her and she was trying to hold it back.

A surge of pain went through her head, as if somepony had lightened a match in her brain. She groaned, but resolved to fight. Between wearing diapers and being treated like a baby, and at least taking the chance to return to being the filly she once was, she'd rather do at least something. The filly rose and turned towards the door. She was intent on making it, and there was nothing here to stop her. One step later, and she was already wondering whether she had made the right decision.

She wasn't going to go #2 in her diaper, not again, not ever again. Apart from the fact that it happened once, just about everything that had to do with that first left a bitter taste in her mouth, though the pacifier managed to soothe that, at least. If Applejack was going to find her not even making it to the … the toilet now, Apple Bloom could forever forget wearing training pants with pretty designs on them, not that she actually wanted to wear something like that.

But this was about the principle anyway. Being treated like a foal could be forgiven, wearing diapers could be forgiven, but she was still able to control some parts of herself, and she wouldn't forfeit that control just because her body told her to. She'd prevail.

Another step, and then there came what could be described as the weirdest thing Apple Bloom had felt until this point–which was already a plus point compared to the insufferable pain she'd get without her pacificier. The pain in her stomach vanished, and she felt something move inside her, a pressure building, like a wave approaching the shore. Despite knowing what it was and what the “shore” was in this scenario, her mind lost to her instincts.

As the pressure built, so came the want for release. In the middle of that giant playroom Apple Bloom, in one moment trying to reach for the bathroom, in the next feeling how her muscles pushed and how a warm mush spread across her rear.

A grown-up, that's all she wanted to be.

Instead she felt her hindlegs give in and her rear planting itself on the ground, and though she felt the mass shift and spread, though the putrid smell reached her nose, she didn't react. No, she felt relaxed–not fine, just relaxed.

The tears were coming to her eyes, but she took a deep breath, and once again, fought them back.

No, I'm not going to be defeated by this, she told herself, though the exercise proved fruitless, as the tears started coming anyway. She suckled on the binky as if that would help. Except it didn't, because she merely needed to look at her surroundings to understand that she'd already been defeated.

Her entire life before this had been one large tirade of becoming a grown-up pony. She had wanted a cutie mark, work, a gracious circle of friends just like that of her sister, and she wanted to be her own pony.

The tears fell down from her eyes and burnt like lava on her cheeks, but she kept breathing, kept trying to make herself calm, to rise above the situation.

Then she imagined Cheerilee, alive and well with a golden flower in her mane, coming through the door and looking at her in shock, she imagined how everypony would react to the sight.

A baby who needed to be carried around, who needed a bib for every meal and still played with blocks, that's what they'd see. A foal who messed her diapers and then cried for somepony to change her.

“I'm a grown-up,” she told herself, trying to keep her cracking voice steady. “I'm a grown-up.”

And even though Applejack was the one who needed to be taken care of, needed somepony to talk to her and protect her, even though Apple Bloom knew that everypony outside was gone and needed to keep her sister away from the edge, why did she have to suffer this fate?

“I'm a grown-up,” she intoned, “I'm a grown up. I'm a grown-up. Imma growedup …”

Her voice trailed off and the words were exchanged with whimpers and sobs, and with every second she felt more helpless, more alone. More like a child.

“I want to die,” she said without much of a voice, her eyes to the ground.

Arms wrapped themselves around her immediately, and she felt herself being pulled towards a warm chest. “Never say that,” she heard a voice.

She looked up at her sister, and she saw it in her eyes again, the fire from before. Meanwhile, Apple Bloom felt naught but the tears on her face and her own feces pressing against her rump.

Applejack kissed her forehead, the way she did every so often. It felt good, but also condescending, embarrassing even. “We'll just need to get ya changed, it's not that bad.”

“I should have my cutie mark by now, sis,” Apple Bloom said, trying to push herself out of her sister's embrace. “I'm not a foal, I don't need bibs, I don't need a pacifier, and I don't need. Any! Diapers!”

She screamed that last word, the thing she hated the most. “I'm a responsible, grown-up pony, and Twilight said I should protect you. I don't want to wear baby clothing with prints, I don't want to have a bottle fed to me. I don't want to, I don't want ...” she trailed off, still pushing against Applejack.

Her sister never let her go.

Soft breaths came down on her neck, some sobs.

An eternity passed between the two, and then Applejack opened her mouth.

“I know,” she said.

Apple Bloom felt her breath stopping, felt the strength waning from her arms–not because of that terrible affliction, but because of the words. She felt herself blinking, but all else had vanished, even her thoughts.

Applejack lifted her up, as careful as possible. “Let's get ya cleaned up,” she said, all smiles and rainbows, all tired and sad.

The walk was merely a blur, but then Applejack put her down on the changing table, and for a second more she thought to fight against it and the cruel reality, if just to blow off steam. Yet her sister's face made the rage go away.

Applejack had been an average looking mare on the best of days, she'd heard the stallions say, but Apple Bloom never could tell how they judged things. Her blonde mane was unkempt and uncared for. Parts of her coats were gone, small patches all over her body. Some were more easily noticed than others, but the skin beneath them all black and grey and tiny scars went across them. She wore the handkerchief she'd been given by Twilight Sparkle to replace her hat. And she looked so tired, so done with the world.

But she kept smiling at her sister, and even whispered. “I'll be quick about it.”

Apple Bloom merely stared at her, knowing full well that her sister didn't expect an answer, and she still felt all flustered. So the growing filly decided to just lean back and let it happen, she felt too weak to resist too.

The first thing she heard was a ripping sound, and felt the diaper loosening. Apple Bloom closed her eyes and hoped that it wouldn't be that bad. Yet it was, and the stink quickly filled the air the moment Applejack lifted the diaper from her skin.

“Can ya get yer tushie up for me?”

Normally she would've disagreed with the cutesie words, but for now she just complied, and the moment she lifted her behind she was freed of the filled diaper.

“Well,” Applejack said thoughtfully, “somepony's a little stinker.”

Apple Bloom felt herself blushing.

“But don't worry, in a minute ya'll smell just wonderful again.”

Then she felt wipes against her coat. As far as she understood the wipes were dipped in some super-special magical water that cleaned a coat very easily–which would make one think that it'd take her sister only a few strokes to be done with the job.

A few minutes later Apple Bloom felt her back growing stiff because of the badly padded table and was actually quite glad that her rump landed on another diaper. The best thing that could be said about them was that new ones always felt comfortable before they were put on. Apple Bloom told herself that they weren't comfortable thereafter, that would've meant she could at least stand a part of them.

What followed was some powdering and then the diaper was put on as snuggly as possible by her sister.

Apple Bloom didn't even want to know how she looked, and Applejack probably saw it.

“Apple Bloom?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“Some days are hard, and not having any friends over can be hell. But you've got toys here, enough to make any filly happy.”

“They're baby toys, and I'm wearing baby diapers,” Apple Bloom answered, defiance growing again. “I told ya, I don't want to be a baby.”

“Ya will always be my baby sister. Ya were in the past and ye will be in the future, and that's fine. Yer gettin' to play all day, ya get bubblebaths and ya can do all that fun stuff that everypony told ya you're too big for. Remember how Dinky told ya puppet houses weren't fun, and ya wanted to stop playing with them? Or when ya didn't want to wear a dress, because Scootaloo would think yer too “girly”? Nopony's here ta judge ya, but that won't last forever. One day ya'll grow up, and then a chance like this'll never come again.” Applejack gave her a smile, and boop-ed her nose.

Apple Bloom looked at her for a moment longer, the words lingering in the back of her head. Then, she sat herself up and looked at the diaper. What had been green on the other was pink on this one, what had been butterflies were balloons and hearts on this one.

“Jus' ignore the drawbacks and dress up in a cute way, be yerself while ya still can. Otherwise ya'll end up in a clock yard, the pieces around ya never completing yer work.”

Apple Bloom wanted to say something and looked up at her sister again. She was greeted by an unusual sight. Her sister held up a red onesie with short, puffed sleeves, a skirt, and a cartoon print proclaiming “Princess Of Thunder”.

And there really wasn't anypony laughing here, nor would anypony come. No, they were here on there own and if she could find happiness in this situation, maybe Applejack would feel better too.

Also, the prospect of wearing a onesie like that would at least make her look a bit cooler. That and she'd always kinda liked wearing dresses with puffed sleeves. So, yeah, Apple Bloom nodded in response to her sister's lecture.

“Let'th make the betht of thith,” she said around her paci.

The days might grow bad someday, but now that her butt was clean, she felt like she could actually have some more fun.