It’s pretty warm outside. Not as warm as it was earlier this week, but nice enough to sit outside and enjoy the air.
It’s a lovely day for farm work. If only you could do some.
Applejack passes by in front of the porch where you are seated, dragging a cart of apples. What else?
“You still doing that?”
You release a breath, allowing the smoke to come heavily flowing from your nostrils. “Now more than ever.”
She just gives you a sideways look before continuing on her way.
“Put that out ‘fore Bloom comes home. She and the Crusaders are havin’ a sleepover tonight, and Ah’d love for them not to get cancer.”
“I’m just having the one,” you mumble, but not quietly enough.
“Ya shouldn’t have any! If it weren’t for Mac Ah’d kick you right out of here.”
She continues walking, dragging a cart with a few barrels barrel three quarters of the way full with apples. It looks heavy, but Applejack can do it. She’s strong.
But she doesn’t like you. That much is obvious. She feels sorry for you, of course, as everypony does, but she doesn’t like you.
Like she said, if it wasn’t for Big Mac, she wouldn’t even let you stay here. But can you blame her?
“And febreze yourself or something ‘fore goin’ back inside!” the co-owner of Sweet Apple Acres yells back at you. “Granny hates that damn smell.”
You put the cigarette back in your mouth and give a thumbs up rather than yelling back, producing even more smoke. That spiteful act probably pisses Applejack off, but oh well. Not like she can hate you anymore than she already does.
No sooner does Applejack venture into the orchard than do you spot the aforementioned Crusaders come scampering over the hills. The three girls come running straight up to the porch rather than going to their clubhouse.
“Hey there, Sweetie Belle,” you greet. “Nice dress.”
“Hey!” Sweetie squeaks in greeting. She always squeaks when she gets excited. Or any other time, really. She’s like a rubber duck. “You really like it?” She stands on her hind legs and does a little turn, showing it off. She almost falls over but Apple Bloom catches her. “Rarity and I made it together… well, it was mostly Rarity, but I helped!”
“It looks great on you,” you smile, seeing her smile. She really is adorable. “Hey Scootaloo! New bike?”
“Yeah!” she shouts, her tomboyish voice booming throughout the acres. “I’ve been saving my allowance for months, but look at it!”
“It looks awesome.”
“I’ll show you something awesome. Watch this!”
She hops back onto her bike and instantly begins flapping her undersized wings, getting up to speed very quickly.
“Ya shouldn’t encourage her like that,” Apple Bloom tells you. “We spent all afternoon trying to get her off of it.”
“Yeah,” Sweetie Belle agrees, “and we were supposed to get our cutie marks today.”
They’re supposed to get their cutie marks everyday, but that has yet to work out. Everypony else in town can see what those three will be doing in the future. Everypony in town knows what their cutie marks will be.
Everypony except those three, unfortunately.
No one has told them, though, and no one will. It’s just something they gotta figure out on their own.
Scootaloo launches herself off a wheelbarrow, getting more air underneath her than you would have thought. She lifts herself off the bike, still holding the handlebars, and spins the frame 360 degrees beneath her.
She re-seats herself just in time to land both tires on the ground. She bounces once before landing again, a look of determination never leaving her face. For a second it looks as though she’s going to wipe out, but she manages to hold herself upright, even though the ground is a little bumpy.
She pedals up right in front of the porch and power slides to a stop in front of you and the other Crusaders.
“Pretty cool, huh?” she pushes her chin into the air, proud of her feat.
“That was great, Scootaloo!” you say, rocking a little in your chair. “Real great. You girls bring anything for the sleepover?”
“Nope!” Sweetie squeaks.
“Everything we need is already here,” the little pegasus says, dismounting the bike and carefully leaning it against the porch.
“All right, girls,” you begin, “why don’t you all head on inside? Not sure what Granny’s cooking but it smells real good.”
“Let’s go, Crusaders!” the youngest Apple proudly exclaims. The other two girls hurriedly rush inside, off to do whatever it is those girls do. “Ya comin’ in yet?”
“Nah,” you sigh, looking out at the fields. “Gonna wait for your brother.”
“Oh right… sorry.” Her ears flatten against her head in embarrassment as she glances down at your lower half.
“It’s okay, hon’,” you assure, patting her leg. “It’ll take a while to get used to is all… I’m still not used to it, either.” You smile, and seeing you smile makes her smile a bit too. “Now run along. I’ll be in soon.”
She scampers inside to join her friends, her red bow bouncing on top of her head.
You love those Crusaders to death.
The sun is setting as slow as ever. Another day effectively wasted, as your useless rump has not moved from your chair in four or five hours.
The sky looks orange, just above the treeline. And in that orange light, you can see the slim form of a pale mare elegantly strolling along the dirt path.
Even at this distance you can see her and what she is wearing. Most ponies don’t wear clothes, but when one works in the fashion industry, you suppose that would make it normal.
Normal to ponies, at least. You wear clothes all the time.
She is wearing a white blouse with a black skirt. Oddly enough, she is not wearing shoes today, which is strange considering the number of times she has complained about how dirty the farm is.
She has a large white hat on, and you wonder what her obsession is with that damn color. Sure, it’s the color of her coat, but it’s not like you base your entire wardrobe on what color skin you have.
After just a few moments she steps up to the porch.
“Whatever happened to being ‘fashionably late’?” you ask, smiling.
She smiles sweetly back at you. “I don’t know! Whatever happened to saying, ‘Hello, Rarity! How are you doing’?”
“Hello, Rarity, how are you doing?”
“Good evening, darling, I’m just fine…” Her tone suddenly grows much more serious. “How are you feeling? Any better?”
“I’m feeling fine, Rarity, thank you. Don’t get all worried about me. It’s been a good day so far.”
“I’m very glad to hear you say that.”
“How’s the boutique doing?” you ask, now that she is no longer living there.
“Oh…” she sighs. “Full of dresses and all my other ‘crap’, as Applejack is so quick to call it. I would bring it all over here if I could, but she won’t let me keep any of it in the barn.”
“Aww… AJ’s no fun.”
Rarity giggles. “I wouldn’t say that, darling. As I’m sure you know, the Apples can be rather enjoyable.”
Well that got personal quickly.
“Damn, Rares. You think about that an awful lot for a lady, don’t ya? All I had to do was mention your place of business and you’re already talking about-”
“Oh hush, you,” she chuckles. “I can assure you, I am a lady!” She laughs a little more. “No wonder Applejack is always complaining about you,” she teases. “She has to spend all day with you!”
“Does she really complain about me all the time?”
“No, darling, no,” Rarity tries to backtrack, moving over next to you. She nuzzles your cheek affectionately. “She does talk about you quite a bit… but nothing bad! Just… Oh!”
“You're not making me feel any better, Rarity. Didn’t I just tell you I was trying to make today a good day?”
“Yes, yes… It’s just… Applejack is just very protective of her brother. It’s no secret that he’s a strong stallion and can take care of himself just fine, but…”
“But…?”
“I don’t think Applejack would appreciate me telling you all of this.”
“I can keep a secret.”
She takes a deep breath. “Very well. Applejack says that Big Macintosh has never been in a real romantic relationship before. I’m sure she just feels protective of her brother. He doesn’t talk much, so Celestia knows what he is thinking or feeling.”
“Well, I know.” Most of the time, at least. Big Mac is really quiet, but he talks to you more than basically any other pony.
“I’m sure. He also almost died a few days ago-”
“So did I.”
“I know, I know. I’m just saying. A few days ago something terrible could have happened…” She glances at your lower half. “...Or, uhm… more terrible, I suppose, and if anything did happen to Mac-”
“She would blame me,” you reason. “I know that, but nothing bad did happen to Mac, did it?”
“I’m just saying, dear.” She rubs her face against yours one more time before moving back a little. “I want the four of us to sit down and talk about all this tonight. It’s not good to keep it bottled up.”
You roll your eyes. “C’mon, Rarity, I’m having a good day. Let’s just not talk about it ever again.”
“No. I can see you and Applejack are becoming frustrated with each other, so we are going to discuss it all this evening.”
“But-”
“No ‘buts’! Granny is a dear but she has no idea what’s going on with you and her granddaughter. Mac is very sweet but he’s not going to bring it up; he hardly ever talks. And you and Applejack are so infuriatingly stubborn that nothing will get accomplished unless I make you!”
She takes a deep breath and pushes her mane out of her face a little.
“So, after supper, we can all have a little chat, yes?”
“Fine,” you breathe. You don’t want to talk about any of this, at least not today. “But I have some work to do tonight that I have to get through first.”
“Deal.”
Rarity places a soft hoof on your back and gently rubs, relaxing you, if only a bit.
“I’m sure there will be no problems with Applejack. She loves you. She’s just protective. Big Macintosh probably feels the same way about me.”
You quirk an eyebrow, wondering exactly what she’s talking about. “What do you mean?”
“You know,” she continues. “Big Macintosh feeling protective of his sister?”
You shake your head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Mac hardly ever talks about you.”
“No? Not at all?” Rarity questions, sounding offended for some reason.
“I mean, you’re dating his sister and all, and that gets mentioned from time to time, but when we talk, it’s generally not about you. Or Applejack. Or anypony besides the two of us, really.”
“He’s not at all concerned over his sister’s love interest?” she asks, really getting into this whole deal. You don’t know why.
“I’m sure he is, but he keeps a lot of his thoughts to himself.”
“He’s not at all worried that I may break his sister’s heart?”
You chuckle. “Are you?”
“What? N-No! No, I would never!”
“Then there’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Rarity’s hoof fall from your back. Hopefully she’s tired herself out from all these questions and goes inside. You can only take so much.
“If there isn’t a problem to deal with, Big Mac isn’t going to deal with any problems.”
Big Mac is a simple stallion. He doesn’t feel the need to start trouble where there isn’t any, unlike every other pony in this town.
“Oh…” Rarity ponders. “Well then… Maybe Applejack just hates you.”
“Hmm…” you think. “Maybe.”
“I’m just teasing, darling. I really should stop pestering you and help Granny with supper. Whatever it is it smells wonderful!”
You yawn, feeling tired for no reason. “That it does.”
“Would you like to come inside?” she offers unsurely.
You smile at her. You know she can’t help you, but you appreciate the offer all the same. “That’s okay. I’m gonna wait for Mac.”
She almost looks relieved when you said that. “Okay, darling. I hope he comes back soon.”
And she disappears inside.
That whole talk Rarity just scheduled for the evening? Probably not gonna happen. Not with the Crusaders around. Hopefully they stay in the house instead of their clubhouse so you won’t have to do anything.
Granny will fall asleep right after dinner, meaning somepony has to watch over the girls. And who will that be?
Rarity, most likely. You pray that they tire her out.
It’s not like you don’t want to get back on AJ’s good side, it’s just you don’t want to think about… earlier this week. It wasn’t a fun time.
“Good!” AJ exclaims, suddenly appearing out of no where and walking towards you. She is no longer dragging any apples along. It’s just her and her hat. “Ya finally put that damn thing out.”
“Rarity’s inside. Isn’t it rude to keep a lady waiting?”
“Isn’t it rude to sass your landlord?” She steps up onto the porch, her hooves clopping against the wood.
“You’re not my landlord,” you casually observe, looking over the hills, wondering where Mac is. He’s usually the last to return, so you’re patient. “I pay about as much rent as your girlfriend.”
“Ah can still kick ya off my property anytime I please.” She grabs the ashtray from the table next to your chair. She usually empties it into the fireplace.
“Yes you can.” But she won’t.
She turns to go inside, opening the screen door partway. “Supper smells like it’s almost ready. Waitin’ for Mac?”
You nod. “Waiting for Mac.”
“Alright then. Clean up ‘fore comin’ inside. Granny doesn’t like that smell.”
“You got it.”
She walks inside and allows the screen door to slam shut.
==========
You're not sure how long you have been waiting for the red stallion. It's been a while. Usually he doesn't take quite this long.
As the sun continues to go down, the Acres seem to light up. Watching the sunset is your new favorite hobby. Not much else to do.
Seemingly from nowhere, Mac appears, steadily walking out from the side of the house. He is quick to step up onto the porch.
“You smokin’ again?” the red stallion asks.
You nod.
“Ya shouldn’t.”
You nod again.
“AJ come back?”
“She did.”
Mac stands beside your chair, looking out at the fields, just as you are. Nothing is said. Nothing needs to be said.
He’s a big pony; physically larger than any other stallion in Ponyville. He’s muscular and very strong, as evidence by him wearing that wooden horse collar thing all the time. He wears so much most ponies just assume he was born with it. Due to his size, he looks intimidating to some residents of Ponyville who do not know him.
But he is the sweetest pony you have ever met, and you have met quite a few. Mac keeps to himself, so most don’t know much about him. He talks to you, though. He says more to you than he does to anypony else.
He ought to.
Big Mac is easily spotted wherever he goes. His coat is red, which seems to be rather unique in this town. No pony you know has a red coat besides him. He has a dirty blond mane and short tail, cropped to make farm work easier. He even has freckles.
The large red stallion plops his rump on the wood floor and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him a little closer to you.
“Have a good day?” you ask.
He nods. “Just fine.”
Mac is known throughout the world as being able to give a one or two word response and leave it at that. You don’t care about his quietness. Most ponies talk too much. Most believe Mac talks too little, but you don’t think so. If he needs to speak, he will.
The sun sets rather quickly and the acres of apple trees grow darker and darker.
“We should go in,” Mac says, walking away, his hooves causing the floor to shake. He walks inside and returns a moment later with a can of air freshener in his mouth. You take it from his mouth and spray yourself off as he returns inside.
It won’t do to have the entire house smelling like smoke. At least when you do smoke it’s on the porch and not near the produce.
Mac returns promptly, trying to carry a pair of crutches. You reach over and grab them before he drops them, thanking him. You can’t remember why the things were inside in the first place. They should have been out here with you.
The red stallion does his best to help you up onto your foot, so you can get the crutches under your armpits. After a brief struggle you manage it.
“All right?”
“Eeyup,” you respond. He smiles before helping you inside.
==========
“Big Macintosh! Can we please be excused?” Apple Bloom sweetly asks with a large smile showing off her teeth. Her eyes get a little bigger as she stares at the red stallion, who is still eating his spaghetti. She would usually ask Granny, but she’s off doing whatever it is that crazy mare does.
Applejack cuts in, knowing Mac will simply let them go because they asked nicely. “But ya didn’t even finish your-”
“Please?!” All three of the Crusaders sing with smiles, haloes appearing over their heads. How odd.
Applejack sighs. “Fine. But put your dishes in-”
Before she can finish the Crusaders have bolted out of the room, leaving a trail of smoke behind them.
“...the sink,” the country mare finishes.
“I’ll get them, darling,” Rarity says, lifting them easily with her magic and placing them in the sink.
“It’s Bloom’s turn to do the dishes, though.”
“That’s quite alright. I don’t mind doing them now. Let the girls have some fun.”
“Fine,” AJ sighs, picking at the load of bread.
You look at Mac, whose face is practically in his pile of spaghetti. It’s hard to see because of his red coat, but he has sauce all over his face. You know it’s hard for earth ponies to use utensils, but seriously.
“Mac,” you say, picking up your napkin. He stops stuffing his face long enough to look up at you, his green eyes connecting with yours.
You wipe his face, not sure if you’re able to get all the sauce off, but you get most of it. You don’t mind if he eats the way he does, it just looks incredibly sloppy.
“Think I got most of it,” you say. Mac nuzzles your cheek for a second before diving back in.
Meanwhile, AJ is struggling to cut a piece of bread from the loaf. Rarity or you usually do it, as Mac and AJ are earth ponies.
“Here,” you say, taking the knife away from the orange mare who can’t get a proper grip on it. “Let me get that.” You take the loaf and cut a piece for the Apple sister.
“Ah don’t need ya to do that,” Applejack complains. “Ah’m not a filly.”
“Play nice, Applejack,” Rarity calls from the sink.
Applejack grumbles as she chews on her piece of bread. “Ah’ll be right back.” She gets up and walks out of the room. Rarity takes all the unfinished dishes from the table and places them in the sink for her to wash.
“Oh! I just remembered,” Rarity says, turning slightly to look at you. “Nurse Redheart said that she will be stopping by tomorrow around 2 to check up on you.”
“Good. Thanks, Rarity,” you respond. Nurse Redheart wasn’t supposed to stop by for another couple days, so it’s good she’s coming by tomorrow.
“Alrighty then!” Applejack announces, placing multiple stacks of papers directly in front of you. “Ah’ll let you get those sorted out.”
*Crash!*
“Oops,” one of the Crusaders says from the next room.
“Ah’m gonna take a long bath,” AJ drolls, rubbing her face. “Care to join me, Rares?”
“Of course, darling, I’ll be right up.”
AJ heads on upstairs, presumably towards the bathroom. By the sound of it, she’s had a long day. She always takes a bath after a long day. Usually she doesn’t bathe after work.
After just a few moments, Rarity heads on upstairs as well.
Mac’s a big pony, and he sure can eat. And he still is.
But you have work to do. You begin filing through the mountains of paperwork.
==========
Hours later, you’re still not done.
There’s something wrong. You don’t know what could have happened, but there are thousands of bits missing from the Apple bank account. Something is wrong. But what?
You added everything correctly and even checked your results four times, but you keep getting the same answer.
What is wrong here?
Assuming you did the work correctly, somepony in the Apple family, or who has had access to their money, has gone on an insanely wild spending spree.
You hate this job. You only do it because you’re the most educated individual on the farm. The Apples aren’t especially good at math. Rarity is good, but not as good as you are, leaving you to do all this.
The others are in the living room, doing whatever. You can hear them talking but don’t know what they’re talking about. Normally, you would be in there too, but there is something wrong.
By the sounds of it, the Crusaders are up in Apple Bloom’s room, crusading. They tend to make a lot of noise, but nopony seems to mind.Granny can sleep through a hurricane, anyway.
“Mac!” you call. Why are two-thousand bits missing? That’s a ton. That’s so much! “Can you come here for a minute?”
After waiting patiently, the large stallion meanders into the kitchen, his hooves shaking the ground a little. “Eeyup?”
“Look at this.” He pulls out the chair next to you and sits, leaning over so your sides are touching. “We’re missing some money, Mac,” you say, pointing at the papers. “A lot of money.”
He just looks at the papers in front of him. At any moment you expect him to panic, to go get some other forms AJ may have forgotten to bring down, or to do anything!
But he’s just sitting there, looking at the forms, a neutral expression on his face. He always has that expression on his face.
He kisses your cheek, surprising you a little. “It’s alright.” He reaches a hoof over and slides all the papers towards him.
“Mac!” you exclaim, grabbing onto the papers. “This is serious! You’re missing two-thousand bits. Two-thousand bits, Mac!”
“Ah know. Calm down.” He nuzzles under your chin while sliding the papers away from you again.
Why is he so calm about this? Sure, he’s Big Macintosh, the most relaxed pony in the history of ever, but even he should have some reaction to losing that much…
Two-thousand bits…
“Mac…” you whisper in sudden realization. “You didn’t…”
“Ah did. And it’s fine.” He kisses and nuzzles your cheek again.
You’re on the verge of tears. “Mac… that’s two-thousand bits…”
“Ah know.”
“Just don’t tell Rarity,” Applejack says, walking into the kitchen. “Ah don’t want her to think we’re in some kind of financial trouble.”
“You guys…” you begin, wanting to cry. “You guys did this for me?”
They both smile and nod. It’s the first time you’ve seen AJ smile all day.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“‘Course not,” the farm mare says. “But you’re family, and we look out for family.”
Mac wraps his forelegs around you as you finally start to cry.
==========
Getting up the stairs is a humungous pain, but it’s something that has to be done. At least it only has to be done once a day. The stairs are too narrow for crutches and the handrail feels like it’s going to fall off when you lean on it.
But you did it. Yay.
Once you’ve reached the top, you hobble your way into your bedroom. On the way past Apple Bloom’s room, you hear them talking.
“Applejack and Rarity can’t have babies, idiot! Two mares can’t have a baby.”
“I don’t see why not! My mom said love is all you need to have a baby. Don’t they love each other?”
“I guess not.”
The conversations of children baffle you.
Anyway, you make your way into the bedroom and take a seat. Mac follows behind you and closes the door.
The stallion takes your crutches and leans them against the wall before helping you undress. You can do it just fine on your own, but it’s a little weirder to do it now than it was a week ago.
And if Mac wants to help, then you’re going to let him. No questions.
You remove your shirt, shoe, sock, pants, and finally your underwear before sliding under the covers and getting comfortable.
Mac places his forehooves on the mattress and leans over to kiss you full on the lips. You return it just as equally before pulling back and looking into his green eyes.
“You going somewhere?” you ask, wondering why he is still on your side of the bed.
“Gotta take a shower,” he responds. “Ah don’t smell real good.”
“I don’t care.” You wrap your arms around his barrel and drag him onto the mattress. He is heavy and pretty large, but you’re strong, and you manage to roll him on top of you and flop him on his side on the opposite side of the bed, automatically making him the little spoon. “I just wanna go to bed.”
He chuckles. “Alright.” You drape the blanket over top of him and cuddle up to his back, wrapping an arm overtop of him to keep him in place.
You kiss his cheek and the top of his head before settling in. “Good night, Mac. I love you.”
He scoots back into you a bit. “Love you too.”
It’s a good thing Rarity forgot about that talk you all were supposed to have tonight. You’re too tired to deal with any of that.
Mac sleeps in a very similar way to the way he is when he’s awake: by hardly moving and the only sounds he makes is his soft breathing.
Seeing how comfortable and content your stallion is makes you relax, and within minutes, you fall asleep.
==========
Granny Smith never disappoints, you think. If she’s cooking, you’re eating. That old mare knows her way around a kitchen.
Today was a long day, but that dinner more than made up for it. Having to move around barrels of apples from sunup to sundown is more difficult than it sounds, but it has to be done. Apple season is just getting started, so more work will have to be done.
But you’re ready for it.
The walk back to your apartment from the Acres is long, but you enjoy it. You’ve been taking this way back for months, and it’s beautiful, especially during this time of the year.
“Hey queer!” a loud voice booms from your side almost the second you enter town. “You! Queer! I’m talking to you!”
You keep walking but turn your head to see an angry looking older stallion hobbling after you. The stallion is rather short, light blue, brown eyes, black mane. He hobbles around like that ugly dude from the movie “300.”
“Don’t you walk away from me, boy!”
Great. Fantastic. This is just how you wanted to end your day.
“Faggot!”
Other ponies in town look over at you to see what the commotion is about, but none say anything.
“Why don’t you just go back to wherever it is you came from and leave us alone, huh? Why don’tcha quit gaying up a good town?”
There is nothing more you want to do than fight back, but what good will that do? You just have to remain calm. It’s incredibly difficult, but you have to try.
You walk a little faster in hopes of getting to your destination sooner.
“Everypony’s straight and happy ‘til you came along. Now we got three decent, honest citizens turning right into fags.”
You know that’s not true. There are other homosexual couples in town who have been here much longer than you have.
And it’s not like you made them gay. They were already gay. You want to say something, but you just can’t.
The both of you suddenly appear right in front of your apartment building, which you enter.
“Do you hear me, boy?”
And the old pony is still following you. He smells like alcohol.
You decide to have a cigarette, which you pull out of your pocket and light in just a second.
“Ha ha!” he laughs to himself. “Look at this! A fag smoking a fag!” He announces everything as though somepony is watching, but there is nopony else around.
Good thing this building doesn’t have smoke detectors, you think. It’d be just another expense you can’t afford, and it would mean smoking outside, which isn’t as fun. It’s not like you do it often, but with what is happening right now, you think you can have one.
Is it legal for a building not to have smoke detectors?
Unfortunately for you, your room is on the third floor, which means two flights of stairs with an angry drunk homophobe following after you as though you committed a crime.
“Why don’t you say something, boy?”
He continues to berate you all the way up to your room. You pull out your keys and unlock your door.
After finally getting the door open, you step inside, and to your surprise, the old pony moves as though he is going to enter as well.
You put your arm out to block his chest. “What are you-”
“Did you see that?!” he yells, his voice echoing off the walls of the nearly empty building. His eyes move around quickly in hopes that he can find somepony. “Did you see that?! He assaulted me!”
Luckily for you he is no longer giving you his undivided attention, so you take your only opportunity.
“Hey!” he suddenly notices you, but just a little too late. “Don’t you even-”
You slam the door hard, right in his face, before locking it twice. You take one final, long pull from your cigarette before tossing it in the ashtray.
So much for having a nice day. The dinner at the farm was perfect, but your walk home has taken all of your energy and cheer.
Depression quickly sets in, and you decide to go to bed.
Then you hear rapid knocking on the door.
“Let me in there, queer!” the angry stallion yells at you. “Don’t you ever turn your back on me! You son of a-”
“Will you shut the hell up?!” a female voice rings out. You know it’s one of your neighbors, but not sure which one. You ignore it and go into your bedroom.
“Me?! He’s the one-”
“Shut up!” her voice booms. “Get out of my building right this second!”
“Ow! Ow! Okay! Fine! I’m going! But I’ll be back!”
You take a moment to strip before collapsing into bed. Farm work is hard and tiring, but it’s even more tiring when you have some old bastard berating you all the way home. You don’t even know the guy.
What a tool.
You control your breathing and try to allow yourself to relax so sleep will come. Luckily enough, it comes after only a few moments.
==========
“Help!”
You blink yourself awake and your heart rate increases instantly.
Everything around you is smokey. You can smell it and feel the extreme heat. It’s abnormally difficult to see, but you know your way around the bedroom.
“Shit!” you shout, getting out of bed and running to your door. “Shit!”
Entering your kitchen and common area, there is a much bigger problem. Everything is on fire. Your sofa, your counter, the roof, the walls, the floor… everything is on fire.
The bottoms of your feet are burning, causing you to jump a little.
“Help!” somepony from outside of your room shouts.
Wanting to help, and get the hell out of your burning apartment, you hop towards the door, trying to spare your feet from extreme burning.
Then the roof collapses, causing a chair that was previously upstairs fall right on top of you.
You lay supine on the hot floor, trying to push the burning chair off of you. Pony furniture is smaller than human furniture, but it’s still heavy, and you’re barely moving it. You can’t keep your hands on the chair for more than a few seconds before burning yourself.
You look straight up and see your ceiling fan is on fire and shaking a little. Like it’s about to fall.
“Shit!”
The fire spreads quickly and soon reaches your leg. You can feel it burning your skin, causing you to scream and violently shake, desperate to get out of the room.
“Ahh!”
There is almost nothing you can do except scream.
The door to your apartment comes crashing in, followed by an unknown pony. It’s too smoky to see anything.
The pony spots you instantly, rushing over to where you are lying. The pony spins and bucks the chair clean off you.
You try to hit your burning leg, to put the fire out, but it hurts. It hurts so much.
The large pony does his best to grab you and drag you over to the window. You scoot along the burning floor to get out of here more quickly. You look up to the pony that is helping you out.
“Mac?” you weakly ask. It’s hard to talk through all this smoke.
“Here! We’re here!” Mac shouts out the window.
Within a second, pegasi fly over to the window, grab you, and fly out.
==========
You jolt awake, already feeling Mac’s forelegs around you, holding you in place. The sheets beneath you are wet with sweat. You’re shaking.
“Shh…” Mac coos. “It’s okay…”
You desperately reach out to feel your leg. You grab your thigh. Then your knee. Then the nub that is just below your knee.
You start hyperventilating.
"It's okay. Calm down." Mac pulls on you a little, forcing you to lie down and let go of your nub.
It was all just a dream. That dream. Again.
You keep reliving that night over and over and over again. There is no peace.
You turn and nuzzle your head into Mac’s chest, holding onto him.
“What happened?” you hear AJ ask from the doorway. “Is everything okay?”
“He’s fine,” Mac responds, holding you closely.
“Are ya sure? Should I put on some tea?”
“Not tonight.”
“Did he have that dream again?” you hear Rarity ask.
“What dream?!” Scootaloo asks. You can’t see where they are, but you assume everypony is by your doorway.
“He’s fine!” Mac says back to them.
“What happened?” Sweetie Belle asks.
“Why was he yelling if there isn’t a fire?” Scootaloo follows.
“Alright girls, that’s enough,” Rarity says. “Go back to bed now.”
“But Applejack said she’d make tea!” Apple Bloom cuts in.
“Not for you three. It’s way past your bedtime. Off you go!”
“Aww!” the three Crusaders whine as they retreat to Apple Bloom’s room.
“Goodnight you two,” Rarity says, presumably leaving.
“Night, Ms. Rarity,” Mac responds, still rubbing your back.
“You sure everything’s all right?” AJ asks.
Mac nods. “Everything’s just fine.”
“Okay,” Applejack whispers. “G’night then. Sleep well.”
The door to your room closes making everything a little darker.
You’re still shaking.
“You’re okay,” Mac whispers, rubbing your back. “It was just a dream.” He kisses the top of your head. “It’s okay.”
Author's Note
Wanted to write a gay story and something that wasn't rated M.
This is what happened!
