Rotten Apple

Chapters

Pecan Bun
Owning Up
Going for a Walk

Pecan Bun

Rotten Apple

by Arwhale

It didn’t have eyes. But it didn’t matter; Apple Bloom could still feel it boring up at her through the fabric of her saddlebag, its lidless gaze never wavering in the slightest.

She turned her head away, gnawing at her bottom lip. It didn’t alleviate the swimming sensation in her gut, and when she looked back over her shoulder, the bag was still sitting on the bed right beside her. The faint scent of toasted nuts and sweet glaze wafted into the air, but the appetizing aroma only made the feeling in her gut worse. To her, it might as well have been the smell of the barn coming in through the window.

Apple Bloom hunched over and rested her chin in the soles of her hooves, elbows propped up onto her knees. She shot the bag a death glare. Unintimidated, it did not budge. Defeated, she gave a wide-mouthed sigh and sank even lower into the edge of the bed.

“Gosh, Apple Bloom,” she whispered to herself, “you really are rotten.”

…

“Jeez, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom exclaimed, holding a hoof to her head. “When Ah said ‘pass it here,’ Ah didn’t mean for ya to peg it at mah face!”

Backing up until she was standing a little ways away, Sweetie Belle directed her gaze downward, kicking idly at the ground. The rubber ball rolled lazily over the grass away from where it had beaned Apple Bloom in the head.

“Heh, sorry…” She gave Apple Bloom a sheepish smile, looking over to Scootaloo. The other filly was facing away from them both, but the hoof stuffed in her mouth, coupled with the occasional snicker, made it obvious that she was trying not to laugh. Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes.

“Nah… it’s fine.” Apple Bloom shook her head a little as if coming out of a trance. “Just took me a little by surprise, is all…”

Scootaloo’s snickering intensified. “Heheh, yeah, I’d say…” She shrank back a little when Apple Bloom’s sharp glare went her way, but that did not stop her from being bold. “You made a really funny face right before the ball hit you…”

“Oh, really?” Apple Bloom replied, going on the defensive and putting on a tough façade. A hint of a smile showed itself on her lips. “And what kinda funny face?”

The question lingered in the space between the three girls. While Sweetie Belle appeared uneasy, Scootaloo seemed to notice Apple Bloom’s smile almost right away. Biting her quivering lip, she took a deep breath, sucked in her stomach, and stretched the corners of her mouth as obscenely wide as she could.

“Blubbalubbalubbalub!” Scootaloo stuck out her tongue and wiggled it up and down, crossing her eyes and tilting her head to the side. It was the stupidest face she could make.

When she uncrossed her eyes, the first thing that came into focus was Apple Bloom charging straight for her, eyes locked on target. This time, it was Scootaloo’s turn to look surprised.

“Whoa whoa WAAA!”

Apple Bloom did a flying leap straight into Scootaloo, tackling her to the ground. The two of them rolled over and over on the grass, Apple Bloom’s hoof digging into the other filly’s scalp in a rough noogie while Scootaloo tried frantically to break away.

Unfortunately, the sound of their mutual laughter was lost on Sweetie Belle, and the unicorn filly rushed over frantically to the wrestling pair.

“Guys, guys, stop! Stop it!” she pleaded, reaching out to pry Apple Bloom off of Scootaloo. “I’m sorry for the whole ball thing, I sh—”

Sweetie fell silent, her mouth parting into a ‘O’ shape. She noticed the smiles on her two friends’ faces almost right away, causing her to move back a step and withdraw her outstretched hoof. She gave an embarrassed smile.

“What’re ya talkin’ about, Sweetie?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow quizzically. The two of them had frozen their antics and were now staring up at her. Sweetie Belle began to stammer, suddenly feeling very stupid.

“Oh, I uh…” She averted her eyes and blushed. “…I just thought you guys were fighting ‘cuz of the ball and…”

Scootaloo’s response to this sentiment was a hearty guffaw. She pushed herself up from the ground and shook her head mirthfully. “Pfft, fighting? We were just playing around!” She walked over to Sweetie and punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Relax, don’t be so uptight.”

Apple Bloom wiped some mud and grime out of her hair before agreeing with Scootaloo. “Yeah, Sweetie. We’re just messin’ around.” She smiled in reassurance. “Now, you wanna pass the ball here? Just not at my face this time?”

Her teasing laugh made Sweetie blush even deeper. Still, she shook her head slowly at Apple Bloom’s request, grimacing. “Ehhh… I dunno. I don’t really feel like playing anymore…”

Scootaloo cocked her head. “Huh? Oh, come on, Sweetie…”

“Apple Bloom!” Somepony called from the edge of the schoolyard. The three Crusaders turned around to see Apple Bloom’s older sister, Applejack, making her way over to them. She had a tan saddlebag draped over her shoulders. “Time to head on out, Sugarcube!”

Scootaloo blew a raspberry, sighing. “Welp, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” She walked over to the red ball, nudging it along with her snout toward the schoolhouse. “I’m gonna go return this to Miss Cheerilee. See you guys tomorrow.”

She walked away as the two other fillies mumbled their goodbyes. With a bit of reluctance, Apple Bloom walked over to her sister, tossing her own saddlebag onto her back and shooting Sweetie an apologetic look. Applejack frowned.

“Somethin’ the matter, AB?” she asked. Apple Bloom shrugged.

“Nope. Everything’s fine.” She sidled up to Applejack and gave Sweetie Belle a parting wave. “See ya later.”

“See ya.” Sweetie waved back before slinking over to the schoolhouse, carrying her head a low. Applejack took notice, and turned to her younger sibling again.

“You sure everything’s alright, sis?”

Typical of Applejack to be concerned. While it was something Apple Bloom appreciated more often than not, there were times when it got a little out of hoof. Suppressing a sigh, Apple Bloom nodded.

“Eeyup. Ah promise. Just…” She wracked her brain for something to say, but decided that it wasn’t worth the effort. “…There ain’t nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

It was only after she’d finished her sentence that Apple Bloom realized just how unconvincing she sounded. Even so, she tried to remain as casual as possible, facing straight forward and holding her head up high, but she couldn’t stop herself from wincing as the period of silence stretched on and on. She chanced a glance up at her older sister, but quickly looked back away as Applejack’s brow wrinkled with undisguised skepticism.

“Well… alright, then.” She spoke at last. Apple Bloom suppressed another sigh, this time from relief. “Ah’ll take your word for it.”

Apple Bloom knew darn well that was code for, “Ah don’t believe you, but Ah’ll save it for later.” She rolled her eyes, but said nothing. That was when she noticed Applejack was making a left turn on the road, heading in the opposite direction of home. The filly tapped Applejack on the shoulder.

“Where are we going? Home’s that way…” She pointed to the right with a jerk of her head. Applejack continued to walk the other way. She smiled, adjusting her hat so that it was straight.

“Ah already told you this morning that I had to run a few errands up at the market,” she answered. “That’s what the saddlebag is for. Remember?”

Apple Bloom’s memory took a second to come back to her. When she remembered, she sulked.

“Aww… can’t ya just walk me back home first?” she whined. Applejack pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Nope. Home’s too far away, and Ah don’t have time to make two trips,” she reasoned. “Besides, it won’t take that long.”

Apple Bloom’s frown only deepened. She muttered under her breath, “That wasn’t true last time…”

“Hmm? What was that?” Applejack asked. Apple Bloom kicked up a clod of dirt, sending it down the road.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”

The pair headed to town, Apple Bloom dragging her hooves in one last act of civil disobedience.

…

Fortunately, to Apple Bloom’s pleasant surprise, the errands had indeed gone by relatively quickly. Some carrots from the market, a couple of jugs of milk, a carton of eggs, and a small bag of brown sugar later, they appeared to be headed back home. But yet again, Applejack detoured from the main road, heading somewhere else. Losing patience, Apple Bloom gritted her teeth together.

“How many more places do we gotta go? Ah thought we were going back, now,” she asked. Her limited, childish patience was already wearing thin, and it was rapidly turning her mood sour. Applejack chuckled.

“Okay, okay. Just one more stop, sis,” Applejack assured. “I gotta head on over to Sugarcube Corner and talk to Pinkie about a couple of things, and after that we’ll head back home. Alright?”

Grudgingly, Apple Bloom nodded her head. She trailed Applejack slightly, eyes wandering in search of something interesting to occupy her attention. But as they made it further down Ponyville’s main street, something unexpected made her turn her head.

It wasn’t anything she’d seen. Oh, no. It was the first whiff, the first instant she detected the presence of something sweet wafting through the air, carried by the cool, early-autumn breeze. As they drew closer, the smell grew stronger: the scent of glazed sugar mingling with crisp cinnamon, the faint, buttery aroma of flaky pastry and the earthy, sweet scent of chocolate. Nutmeg, clove, and candied fruits, a symphony of flavors blended together, yet each somehow distinct.

Apple Bloom’s mouth watered, unaware of a strand of drool trickling out of her mouth until it landed on her right hoof. Her eyelids, which had flickered shut, snapped back open as the sensation brought her back to reality, and when she saw what was in front of her, she realized that they were already standing at the bakery’s front entrance. Applejack placed her hoof on the door.

“Alright. Ah promise this won’t take too long.” A silver bell above the frame jingled to announce their arrival. “C’mon.”

For the first time since she’d come to town, Apple Bloom was more than willing to comply. With the smell of the bakery in the foreground and an added spring to her step, she followed Applejack in. The chipper, perky voice of a familiar party pony called out to them from behind the counter.

“Well, lookie who it is!” Pinkie Pie smiled at them in greeting. She bounced around the counter until she was standing in the lobby area. “Here to exchange those recipes? Oh, and hi, Apple Bloom!”

Despite Pinkie’s cheerful greeting, Apple Bloom almost had to force herself to say ‘hi’ back, waving timidly. While she did not dislike Pinkie by any means, there was always something off-putting about the way she always seemed so filled with energy.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Applejack answered, making Pinkie Pie redirect her focus back to her. She reached behind her and opened the flap of her saddlebag. “Ah got ‘em right here with me. You said Mrs. Cake had the glazed raspberry muffin recipe that Granny Smith’s been…”

The rest of the conversation faded into the background as Apple Bloom’s mind began to wander elsewhere. She tuned out the rest of her sister’s and Pinkie’s businesslike conversation as she looked all around the bakery, scanning over the long glass counter filled with all sorts of delicacies. Tarts, cookies, cakes, and pastries lined the top and bottom shelves, forming a myriad of pastel colors akin to a stained-glass mosaic. Her eyes panned over the display from left to right, lips moistening the further she went…

And then she saw it. The grand finale, poised on top of the counter and kept on a golden platter underneath a glass dome foggy with steam.

A towering pile of flaky, golden pastries, drizzled with ribbons of sugary glaze. Bits and pieces of candied pecan adorned the tops of each one in the stack, and each crevice of the spiraled pastry was painted a warm shade of cinnamon. Even from under the dome, tendrils of warm steam seeped through the crack between the cover and the plate.

Apple Bloom’s hooves developed minds of their own. She took two steps toward the display, drawing toward it like a moth to the light…

“Oh, I see you’re looking at the Cake’s latest treat!”

Apple Bloom was brought out of her trance by Pinkie’s shrill voice cutting through the air. With a jolt, she hopped on her hooves and faced the counter. The smiling pink pony’s gaze seemed to delve into the deepest reaches of her soul. She blushed as though she’d been caught with her hoof in the cookie jar, shifting her focus between Pinkie and her sister, who had only just turned her head.

“Umm… Ah, uh…” She didn’t get very far with a reply. In a pink blur, Pinkie zipped over to the platter and tapped on the glass dome with her hoof.

“These babies,” she gestured to the foggy glass with her forehooves, rearing up on her hind legs, “are the Cake’s amazing, stupenderific, wondertastical, super awesome brand-spanking new…”

She flourished her hooves dramatically, lifting the lid. Immediately, the steam escaped from the confines of its prison, dispersing throughout the bakery and carrying with it a mouth-watering aroma that tingled Apple Bloom’s spine.

“… Pecan cinnamon swirl buns!”

The name rolled off her tongue like water down a slide. To Apple Bloom, it was the new name for bliss, heaven come down to earth in the form of a pastry. Nearly all of her favorite things put together in one tasty treat…

Naturally, she turned her head, looking at Applejack. Dilated pupils and lips pushed slightly outward in a puppy-dog pout implored her sister without having to say a word. It was the look she’d practiced for just such an occasion, one she’d even occasionally tested in her bathroom mirror. There were few in Equestria that could resist.

But unfortunately, repeated exposure numbed the effect. And since Applejack was her sister, there was nary a pony who had been exposed to it more in all of Equestria. An apologetic close of her eyes and a bite of her bottom lip, and Apple Bloom’s features deflated like a balloon left out in the heat. She already knew the answer long before Applejack shook her head.

“Err… ‘fraid not, Sugarcube.” She smiled apologetically, first to Apple Bloom, and then to Pinkie Pie. “It’s getting’ awful close to dinner, and one of those things is sure to spoil your appetite.”

Hearing her response, Apple Bloom’s eyes narrowed, and her pout turned into a full blown sulk. She discreetly rolled her eyes, aiming her gaze down at the floor. It was the classic, ‘you’re gonna ruin dinner’ response that either Granny Smith or her older siblings always gave whenever she went with them on errands. It wasn’t like she could help it when they always did their shopping after school!

Still, she knew better than to talk back. She kept her thoughts and sense of injustice to herself, a displeased grunt the only thing she dared to muster in retort.

“Well, who says she has to eat it before dinner, Applejack?”

From behind her. It was Pinkie Pie again, but this time, she wasn’t talking to her. Apple Bloom’s head shot back up.

“She can take one home, and then she can eat it for dessert after! Duh!” Pinkie bounced over to Applejack with an eyebrow raised and a coy smirk on her face. “No spoiled appetites or anything!”

Apple Bloom’s ears pricked up, and in an instant, newfound hope surged through her. Pinkie the salespony was taking her side. And if Applejack’s contemplative expression was anything to go by, it was working.

“Hmm… but won’t it get all cold and stale by then?” Applejack asked. Just this question alone was enough to make Apple Bloom inhale slowly through her nose, lips stretching out into a smile. Her sister, her stubborn-as-a-mule sister, was actually considering Pinkie’s suggestion!

Apple Bloom was not the only one who noticed. Smelling a sale, Pinkie’s smirk widened. She took a step toward her and giggled.

“Stale? Oh, no, silly!” she replied. “They won’t go stale that fast! And the best part is, these babies taste super good either hot or cold, so they’ll still be just as delicious after dinner as before!”

After the conclusion of her sentence, Apple Bloom could have sworn that Pinkie Pie winked in her direction. Whether she did or not, Applejack did not notice. Instead, she appeared to be reasoning over the matter in her mind, tapping her chin. Pinkie only continued to stare at her, grin widening like a salespony after a successful pitch until finally, Applejack caved.

“Well… when ya put it that way… alright.”

Apple Bloom had to stop herself from dancing a jig in the middle of the bakery. Instead, she beamed at Pinkie in silent thanks, standing on the tips of her front hooves with contained euphoria. This time, Pinkie left no doubt, winking at her before turning to Applejack.

“You’ve made a most excellent decision!” She darted around the glass counter and shot behind the cash register. “How many? Just one? Maybe two? Or how about thr—”

“Just one, Pinkie,” Applejack said with a chuckle, cutting her friend off before she could get to ten. “Ah’m not a huge fan of pecans, but I’ll just get one for Apple Bloom, here.” She smiled down at her little sister, reaching around and opening up her saddlebag. “Gimme just a sec… how much are the damages?”

“Three bits!” Pinkie chirped. She opened up the cash register and waited for Applejack to hoof over the money. Applejack rummaged around in the bag with her snout for a few moments. And then, a few more. Apple Bloom fidgeted anxiously, front hooves making light clops on the tile as she shifted her weight from one leg to another.

And then, Applejack froze. She looked somewhat comical, head stuck in the bag with the rest of her body not moving an inch. Then, slowly but surely, she pulled her head back out… with a single bit coin clenched in her teeth. She dropped it on the tile floor in front of her, brow furrowing downward.

“That… that can’t be right…” she said. Her voice lowered to a near whisper. “Ah had to ‘ave taken more money with me than that…”

Again, she reached into her saddlebag, this time on the other side, and repeated the process. She came up with nothing. Thoroughly flummoxed, she sat back on her haunches.

“Ah… Ah guess Ah didn’t have as much with me as I thought…” she said. “Ah had enough for errands, but Ah usually bring more…”

It took a second for Apple Bloom to register what was going on. Slowly, imperceptibly, her ears and bow drooped as the tragic news came to light. She glanced up at Pinkie, and then back over to her sister, who was still seated on the floor. The two sisters made eye contact; Applejack lowered her head.

“Ah’m awful sorry about that, Sugarcube…” She grimaced. “Shoulda been keeping better track…”

Apple Bloom said nothing, at least not at first. Instead, she could only stare at the single bit coin on the floor, eyes riveted to it. Her sulk returned, twice as deep this time. Pinkie appeared sympathetic.

“Aww, sorry, Apple Bloom.” She leaned toward her over the counter. “I would just give one to you as a ‘free sample,’ but the Cakes said I’ve been doing that all willy-nilly lately. They made me Pinkie Promise not to ‘cause it’s all been adding up, so… sorry.” She smiled sheepishly.

And that was that. No flaky bun, no cinnamon sugar and creamy icing. No toasted pecans. Nothing. Applejack cleared her throat, breaking the silence.

“So... Ah guess I should just do what Ah came here for, then…” Her ears folded down, and she gave Apple Bloom another grimace in apology. “Ah’m real sorry, Sugarcube.”

Apple Bloom grunted, casually shrugging her shoulders. “It’s alright...”

She may have said one thing, but it was the way she said it that conveyed the exact opposite: gaze directed away, lips clenched in her teeth, and her tone of voice lowered in apparent displeasure. Applejack opened her mouth briefly, preparing to speak, but before she could get a word out, she was interrupted by the screeching whine of a smoke alarm. The sound made Pinkie rocket five feet into the air, the hairs on her mane standing on end.

“Oh no! Oh gosh no NOT AGAIN!” She galloped over to the kitchen and burst through the door. Her panicked voice could still be heard from within. “Ohhh, the Cakes are gonna kill me!”

Apple Bloom crouched down reflexively, wincing as the smoke alarm’s wail clawed at her eardrums. When she looked up, her sister had already sprung into action, shedding her saddlebag and tossing it down beside the single bit coin on the floor.

“Oh, consarn it… Hold on, Ah’ll be right back. Just stay right there, AB!” Applejack bolted around the counter and raced into the kitchen, leaving her little sister all by herself in the bakery’s main lobby. “Ah’m comin’ Pinkie!”

Shortly after, the sound of something hissing, probably a fire extinguisher, could be heard over the incessant beeping of the alarm, along with Applejack and Pinkie’s raised voices mingling together. This was followed by the sound of something metal clattering on the floor. Apple Bloom could only watch the door and listen, crouching down with her hooves placed protectively over her ears.

“Uhh… alright,” she said, too quiet and too late for either pony to hear her. Seeing the wisps of blackish smoke coming through the cracks in the kitchen door, her brow creased downward with concern. Still, she wasn’t all that worried; she knew very well that Sugarcube Corner had experienced its fair share of burnt cookies and blackened brownies over the years, especially with the sometimes inattentive Pinkie Pie behind the counter. Heck, she’d even been the cause of a couple of them way back when she’d baked with Pinkie Pie to try for her cutie mark…

She froze mid-thought. Her eyes had slowly drifted away from the door as she mused, panning from right to left, across the glass counter…

…and onto the platter of pecan buns.

For a few moments, she did not move a muscle. The platter, in Pinkie’s haste to battle the blaze in the kitchen, had been left uncovered. The glass dome lay off to the side, leaving the haphazard stack of treats exposed.

An odd knot formed in her throat, coupled with a strange tingle which worked its way into her hooves. She inhaled once before the breath became trapped in her lungs, and her stomach felt as though it were floating in a vacuum of empty space.

She’d felt this way, once before. It took a little while to put her hoof on it. But when she remembered, it came back to her in a flood: Zecora’s hut, a little over a year ago. She’d been standing in front of the zebra’s medicine workshop, an array of herbs, plants, flowers and seeds lined up in untidy rows all along the counter. A stone mortar and pestle had been placed dead in the center.

But it was what was in the mortar that had caught her eye: a harmless looking violet flower, the petals gently curved around a cluster of long, yellow anthers like an ornate bowl and set atop a bed of heart-shaped leaves. Zecora had gone to retrieve another ingredient for a special potion, leaving her alone in the hut.

She was alone this time, too. Applejack and Pinkie were in another room, and from the sounds of it, they were still occupied. And through the faint odor of smoke, the smell of the steamy pecan buns made a resurgence the harder she stared. They all looked so good, so appetizing... and she couldn’t have any of them, all because her dumb big sister hadn’t brought enough money along. After already being denied once, she’d gotten her hopes back up, only to have them shot down once again. It was all so unfair… so unfair…

Apple Bloom was only partially aware of what she was doing as her hooves glided over the tile floor, inching forward carefully so as to not make any noise. More loud hissing came from the kitchen, followed by a short exclamation from Applejack and another metallic bang. Apple Bloom shot frequent glances over to the door, angling her ears toward it in spite of the high pitched whine of the smoke alarm continuing to fill the air. She was almost beside the counter, lips moistening with approval as she could make out each individual chunk of candied pecan and the glistening of the icing reflecting the light back to her eyes like the glint of a shining gemstone...

She took another peek at the closed kitchen door, wincing as she tried to discern the sounds of her sister and Pinkie through the alarm. They did not sound like they were coming out. Apple Bloom took another step, and another, until her snout was nearly pressing against the glass.

Another peek. Nothing. Knees trembling and pupils wide, she reared up on her shaky hind legs and propped herself up against the counter. The sweets were steaming less, but the heavenly aroma nonetheless became overpowering as she drew closer. It masked everything like a dense fog, ethereal and enticing at the same time.

Another peek. Still nothing. She took a deep breath, reaching around her back and opening the flap of her saddlebag in preparation. However, as she realized how close she was to the danger zone, to the possibility of being spotted if they unexpectedly emerged from the kitchen, her movements quickened, hoping that the sound of her bag being opened and the tapping of her front hooves on the glass would be masked by the loud alarm and the barrier of the door. And if she did get caught…

She pushed the thought from her mind and reached up with a sweating hoof, eyeing one of the rolls placed near the edge of the stack. Apple Bloom hesitated for a moment, weighing which one would be best to take without her deed being noticed. She took another short breath, trying to stop her hooves from shaking and eyed one bun in particular sitting near the outside of the pile. Honing in on her prize, she reached out her hoof toward it…

…And with a dexterity that managed to surprise even herself, she snatched the pecan bun off of the platter with a swipe of her hoof, brought it over her shoulder, and dropped it into her waiting saddlebag with a soft plop.

Hooves still trembling, she stole another glance at the closed kitchen door and retreated away from the counter, situating herself back in the same spot she had been in before. Or, at least, she thought it was the same spot. She hoped.

Apple Bloom took a sequence of deep breaths, tensing up her legs to keep them from shivering with the nervous excitement surging through her. It was still taking some time to process just what she had done; it was invigorating, exciting, but also scary. Like one of those neat thrill rides she had ridden at the carnival last summer. She had to consciously remind herself to act casual. Nothing had happened; what they didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt them. It was just one little pecan bun, right? No big deal. They wouldn’t find out.

Besides, it served Applejack right, getting her hopes up only to tell her no again, making her come with on yet another stupid errand trip after school…

The smoke alarm shut off. Oddly, Apple Bloom’s ears had become so accustomed to the noise that even the high-pitched shriek had practically faded into the background. The silence seemed to have an even greater effect on her; it made her feel vulnerable. She shivered, but brought herself back under control, instinctively tightening the strap on her saddlebag cover. Applejack and Pinkie Pie’s voices were much clearer than they had been before, and soon after the smoke detector had shut off, Apple Bloom could hear them approaching from behind the door, getting closer.

Finally, the door swung open. Applejack came out first, followed closely by Pinkie Pie. The pink pony’s head was scraping against the floor. Applejack wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and made a remark over her shoulder.

“Boy, that sure was a mess.” She gave a low whistle. “Them things were smokin’ like no tomorrow. Good thing y’all don’t have any sprinklers installed.”

Applejack’s low chuckle didn’t seem to brighten Pinkie’s low spirits. She tried to smile, but only managed to give a mirthless laugh.

“Yeah. I’d probably just end up flooding the place twice a week and they’d have to close up shop.” She wiped a strand of her deflated mane out of her eye. “Anyway… Thanks a lot for helping, Applejack.”

The other mare shrugged. “No prob, Pinkie. Glad Ah could help. And don’t worry about the Cakes. It was just one batch. Ah doubt they’ll get all bent out of shape just because of that,” she reasoned. Pinkie Pie sighed.

“Yeah, you’re probably right… oh, and thanks for the recipe. I’ll be sure to give it to Mr. and Mrs. Cake when they get back.”

“No problem, Pinkie.” Applejack tipped her hat. “Tell 'em that Granny Smith and all the rest of us appreciate it.”

Apple Bloom squirmed in her place, shuffling on her back hooves with discomfort. They were getting closer. She sat so that her saddlebag was angled away from them and retightened the strap. Taking another deep breath, she tried to stay calm.

Pinkie Pie waved a silent farewell, still appearing a bit down in the dumps but smiling nonetheless. Applejack waved back, and before Apple Bloom knew it, she and her sister were once again side by side, walking out of the bakery.

“Sorry about all of that, AB,” said Applejack as they exited the store. She wrapped a hoof around her withers. “Thanks for waiting so patiently. Somethin’ happened and Pinkie forgot about a batch of macadamia nut cookies in the oven that were burnin’ something fierce. Phew…”

At her sister’s touch, Apple Bloom’s entire body tensed up like a coiled spring. She nearly looked back over her shoulder to make sure that her saddlebag was still closed and that her stolen cargo was still hidden from sight, but stopped herself at the last second. Act casual. Natural…

“Y-yeah,” Apple Bloom said, clearing her throat. “Good thing y’all were there…”

Applejack nodded in agreement. “Eeyup. Poor girl’s got a lot on her plate, lately, running the store while the Cakes are gone. Something's bound to get burned eventually, Ah suppose."

Applejack continued to speak, but Apple Bloom wasn’t listening. Her mind kept on honing in on one particular phrase her sister had uttered, conjuring up images of what was only minutes in the past.

A lot on her plate…

The plate of pecan cinnamon swirl buns. Oh, there had been a lot of them on there, that was for sure. Stacked tall, disorderly, partially stuck to one another by the layer of icing drizzled over the tops of each one and the melted cinnamon sugar… each one of them exactly like the one that was currently hidden in her saddlebag…

“Uhh, Apple Bloom?”

Applejack’s voice snapped her out of whatever state of mind she was in. Apple Bloom gasped, roughly shaking her head as a chill traveled down her body before looking up into the concerned eyes of her older sister.

“You okay, hun?” she asked. For a moment, Apple Bloom’s mouth moved without making any sound. That is, until she managed to come back down to earth, take a deep breath, and respond as calmly as she could.

“Y-yeah. Ah’m fine.” She twitched her flank from side to side, re-adjusting the saddlebag over her croup. Unfortunately for her, Applejack’s concern was still plainly evident.

“You sure? Y’all haven’t seemed like yourself…” She wrinkled her brow. “Did somethin’ happen today that you haven’t told me about? Was it somethin’ from school?”

Apple Bloom shook her head. She was wilting under Applejack’s scrutiny, silently hoping and praying Applejack wouldn’t suspect anything. “No, nothin’ happened. Ah-Ah’m fine, don’t worry…”

Despite her best attempts to deflect her sister’s concern, it was painfully obvious that they were not being met with success. Even so, Apple Bloom had to stop herself from sighing with exhausted relief as Applejack at last turned her gaze away, choosing instead to face the front.

“Well… alright.”

And just like that, they both fell silent. Hoofsteps were the only sounds either of them made as they made the return journey home, remaining quiet all the way until the gate of Sweet Apple Acres came into view. Though the thoughtful frown had never left Applejack’s features, she nonetheless refrained from saying anything more.

Apple Bloom, for her part, followed her sister at a short distance the whole way back. She angled the saddlebag away and constantly adjusted the straps, tightening them until they squeezed around her back like a boa constrictor. And yet, despite closing it as tightly as possible, Apple Bloom swore that she could still faintly detect the aroma of candied pecans seeping through the fabric.

She never thought such a wonderful aroma would have made her feel so nauseous.

Author's Note

Welp, here's the first chapter. I'll try to the best of my ability to write up the second one in due time, but I've got a lot to do lately and it's screwing with my ability to do much of anything in terms of leisure writing, so I apologize in advance.

Hopefully, this chapter turned out okay. I wrote it while also multitasking another paper and looking through national databases for a final thesis I need to write by the beginning of May, so it may not be up to snuff. Even so, I didn't think it was bad, but maybe not my best, either. Constructive criticism is much appreciated!

Anywho, thanks a lot for reading, y'all. Hope you enjoyed it so far, and I hope you're looking forward to the next chapter! If not, well then... I guess I just suck. *shrug*

~Arwhale

Owning Up

As soon as she and Applejack had walked through the front door, they could already smell dinner cooking. The incident at Sugarcube Corner had delayed them considerably, which meant that it was almost dinnertime. Applejack closed her eyes and inhaled.

“Ahh. Ain’t nothin’ quite like comin’ home to the smell o’ one of Granny’s veggie pot pies,” said Applejack. She shed her hat and placed it on a hook beside the door. “Really gets the stomach growlin’, don’t it, sis?”

Apple Bloom nodded. A thin smile accompanied a nervous laugh, and she took a step away from Applejack and toward the stairs. “Y-Yeah… like a Timberwolf…”

Truth was, her stomach had been growling since they’d left Sugarcube Corner. In fact, ever since she’d stepped in the house, her entire gut felt like it was doing its own acrobatic routine, performing stationary flips, somersaults, and cartwheels inside her. She swallowed hard, tasting bile, and took another step toward the stairs.

“Ah, uh… Ah gotta go to the bathroom…” The moment the declaration left her lips, Apple Bloom raced away, rocketing up the stairs and leaving Applejack by herself in the living room. Her big sister reared her head back at the sudden exodus, raising an eyebrow.

As if on cue, her brother Big Mac walked into the room from the kitchen, missing the work collar he usually wore and sporting a damp towel draped over one shoulder. The sound of Apple Bloom’s footsteps receded down the second floor hallway, and when he turned to look at Applejack, his puzzled expression soon matched hers.

“Ever’thing alright?” he asked. Applejack’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded slowly.

“Yeah… Everything’s fine,” she replied. “Somethin’ happened at Sugarcube Corner that made us late in getting back… Pinkie’s runnin’ the place, and the smoke alarm went off, and… well, you know. But other than that, we’re fine…”

She trailed off, staring down at the carpet. When she looked back up, Big Mac was still imploring her silently, wiping the damp rag over his sweaty forehead. Not a word needed to be spoken for her to know that he knew something else was up. She sighed.

“Well… sort of,” she admitted. “Apple Bloom’s been actin’ a little funny ever since Ah picked her up from school today. Ah asked her if anything was wrong, but she wouldn’t talk to me, and Ah’m a little worried that something’s… Oh, don’t you give me that look!” she interrupted herself. Unfortunately, Big Mac’s knowing smirk only widened, a tinge of pink flushing onto his cheeks. When Applejack’s best efforts in intimidation failed, her face softened, and she sighed once again.

“Bah… maybe you’re right. Maybe Ah am just bein’ a mother hen again, getting’ worried over nothing…” she reasoned. Big Mac remained quiet, wiping his face again with the rag and letting her talk with herself. “But even so… Ah dunno. Ah guess Ah just got this gut feelin’ something ain’t right. And you know how it is when that happens…”

Oh, he knew very well. Big Mac nodded fervently, suppressing a laugh. He sauntered over to the kitchen with rag in tow.

“Eeyup.”

…

Apple Bloom wasted no time. She scampered into her bedroom, closing the door shut behind her. The coast now clear, she loosened the strap of her saddlebag and tossed it onto the bedcovers.

Despite knowing that nopony else was in the room with her, she still peered over her shoulder to double-check that the door was indeed closed before she jumped onto the bed, seating herself right beside the bag. She leaned in closer, undid the flap on the rightmost side, and peeled it open, peeking inside. Sure enough, her stolen treasure was still right where she had left it. It was no longer steaming, but that did not stop the sweet, buttery aroma from assaulting her senses as she stuck her face into the bag.

For a reason she could not quite explain, she was only able to leave her head there for a second. As though she were reeling away from something unpleasant, she jerked her face away and scooted back a bit, wrinkling the covers in the process. The flap fell back over the opening, hiding the pecan bun from the outside world once more.

Swallowing anxiety, Apple Bloom slid back down, hooves landing with a clop on the wooden floor. She took a sequence of deep breaths whilst keeping her eyes closed to slow her quickening heart rate.

She’d wait until after dinner to eat it. If she tried to taste it before and it spoiled her appetite, she’d totally give herself away. Applejack would find out everything, and she’d be done for. She had to be extra careful, watch her back, or…

“Hey, AB! Dinner’s ready!”

Applejack’s voice carried through her bedroom door. She whipped her head around, thankfully startled out of her thoughts of doom and gloom.

“Oh! Okay, Ah-Ah’ll be right down!” she called back, opening the door and cantering out of the room. However, when she was almost halfway down the hall, she stopped suddenly, and at the last second, backtracked, closing the bedroom door behind her.

…

“And then, won’t y’all believe it, after Ah told ‘em the price, that little varmint accused me o’ riggin’ the scale!”

Granny Smith lightly rapped her hoof down on the table to punctuate her outrage. Applejack and Big Macintosh listened intently, eyes widening with shock.

“He did what?” Applejack asked, incredulous. “Why would ‘e think you’d do somethin’ slimy like that? We ain’t never swindled or stolen from anypony!”

Across from Big Macintosh, Apple Bloom was also listening, but she did so while poking at the food on her plate. She’d hardly even touched the piece of pot pie, and had barely dug her fork into the butternut squash on the side, either. She swallowed hard at Applejack’s last statement, shuffling uncomfortably in her seat.

“Meh, he was just a customer who wanted t’ get out o’ payin’ the money ‘e owed.” Granny Smith shook her head. “It was a good thing Ah was able to prove ‘im wrong when Ah brought out a few o’ them shiny weights with the labels on ‘em and tested ‘em on the scale. Ohoho, ya shoulda seen ‘is face turn all red. Ya could almost see the steam comin’ out o’ his ears. Good thing there was this real big fella right behind ‘im in the line, or Ah think ‘e might’ve tried to flip the whole stand over.” She laughed, showing her white dentures in a wide smile. “Feller stormed off after that from embarassin’ himself, but Ah just went on doin’ business as usual with the rest o’ the townfolk in line.”

Applejack chuckled. “Heh, serves ‘im right for tryin’ to tarnish the Apple Family name like that just to get outta payin’ a few extra bits. Who does he think he is?”

Apple Bloom did not look up from the tablecloth, pretending to be mesmerized by the food on her plate. But rest assured, she heard every word.

Suddenly, the hoof holding her fork began to tremble, accidentally rattling the metal utensil against the porcelain surface of the dish. In an irrational panic, she ended up dropping the fork onto the plate, creating a loud noise that made everyone else do a little jump in their seats. Horrified, Apple Bloom sat up in her chair and stiffened like a board as everyone’s attention immediately became directed at her. Granny Smith’s already wrinkled brow furrowed with concern.

“Err… you alright there, Half-Pint?” she asked. Apple Bloom wilted under her family’s collective scrutiny, ears flopping back.

“Uhh, uhhh… yeah, Ah-Ah’m fine…” she stammered, a bit too hastily. Predictably, none of the rest of her family appeared to believe her, riveting her to the chair with their eyes.

That was when she began to feel panic gripping hold of her chest, constricting her windpipes and forcing her to take bigger gulps of air. They could see right through her. They were going to find out. And when they did, they’d…

Apple Bloom tactfully shoved the images out of her mind. She needed to think of something to get out of here, something they would believe, something that wouldn’t make them suspicious…

“C-Can Ah be excused?”

…But that was all she came up with. The simple phrase leaving her mouth felt like sandpaper had given the lining of her throat a massage. She cringed.

Applejack spent a moment exchanging worried glances with Big Mac and Granny Smith. She pointed to the plate in front of Apple Bloom. “It don’t look like you’ve hardly eaten anything, sis…”

Apple Bloom winced, and looked down at her plate. The lukewarm piece of pie and sweet mound of butternut squash gazed back up at her; the thought of them being wasted made the churning sensation in her tummy intensify. She shook her head.

“Y-Yeah, Ah know, Ah just… ain’t feelin’ so good right now,” she explained. Her hoof twiddled the fork on the table. “Ah ain’t hungry. S-Sorry…”

Once she was done speaking, Apple Bloom aimed her eyes upward. Applejack’s lips creased down into a frown, and she looked over to Granny Smith. The elderly mare was fast to nod her head.

“O’course, hun,” she gave her approval, the tone of her voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “Ah don’t think none of us ‘re gonna stop ya if you’re feelin’ ill…”

No sooner had she given her stamp of approval than Apple Bloom had gotten up, pushed her chair into the table with a slight thud, and left the room with a hasty farewell and thanks. She didn’t look back, sucking in a breath from between clenched teeth and swallowing a knot of fear that had risen up in her throat.

For what seemed to her like the first time that day, Apple Bloom actually hadn’t told a lie. She made a beeline for the bathroom and shut the door.

Behind her, Applejack had already turned around to face Big Mac, locking her eyes with her big brother’s. She raised her eyebrows.

His coy smirk from before had fled the premises.

…

After hovering in front of the toilet for several minutes, she’d only manage to achieve a couple of gagging dry heaves before the nausea and anxiety had at last leached away from her body. Head held in one hoof, she’d left the bathroom with an obligatory flush and moved into her bedroom.

And then, there it had been again. She could smell it: the evidence of her heinous crime. It had almost been enough to make her do a return trip to the bathroom, but she’d resisted the urge with teeth clenched. Giving her head a rough shake, she’s stepped through the threshold and closed the door shut behind her.

You’re just imagining it, Apple Bloom, the farm filly had told herself. Get a dang hold of yourself and calm the hay down!

And now, nearly an hour later, here she was still, sitting on the edge of her bed and reviewing all of the day’s past events endlessly in her mind. And unfortunately, her self-admonition had not stopped the wiggling worm of guilt and anxiety from burrowing further into her gut, churning her insides like butter.

Breathing heavily through her nose, she tried a different tactic, lying down flat on her back with her head rested on the pillow. She closed her eyes, but each time she tried to make herself relax, something else would pop into her head and force them back open. The process repeated itself several times until she at last gave up, a low groan escaping her.

“Aw, consarn it…” She sat up, propping her elbows onto her upper thighs and resting her head in her hooves. In the process, she noticed from the top left corner of her vision that her saddlebag had still not gone anywhere. The little apple insignia designed on the side, the unofficial trademark of Sweet Apple Acres, seemed to glow in the darkening room as the sun beginning to set on the horizon. The insignia of her family, the insignia of honesty.

It mocked her.

Apple Bloom adjusted her position, wrapping a hoof around her stomach as it did yet another somersault in her tummy, forcing bile up into her esophagus. An attempt to clear her throat only made the acidic burn worse, and a film of cold sweat developed on her hairline, forming into beads as they trickled down the sides of her head.

Hatefully, she shot the bag yet another stare from the opposite end of the bed. And, like every other time so far that day, Apple Bloom lost the contest miserably. She hung her head.

No matter how hard she tried to focus on something else, a slew of things she’d heard throughout the day continued to taunt her to the point of torment. Applejack’s voice, clear as day.

…Serves ‘im right for tryin’ to tarnish the Apple Family name like that…

Her forehead throbbed so badly she could feel it thumping through her skull.

Tarnish… yeah. Like Ah did…

Her sister again. It was like she was seated right beside her, hollering into her ear. We ain’t never swindled or stolen from anypony!

A chill settled over the room, making Apple Bloom shiver. She gazed at the window, eyeing the colorful sunset. Its beauty was lost on her.

Yeah… everypony except Pinkie Pie… and Zecora…

Poor girl’s got a lot on her plate, lately, running the store while the Cakes are gone…

This time, her own thoughts came at her in a torrent, angry and unrelenting. She did nothing to censor them, to hold them back from lambasting her with everything they had. And this time, they came to her from her own mouth. Aloud.

“Yeah, and then what do ya do, huh? She sticks up for you and takes your side, tries to do something nice for you out of the bottom of ‘er heart, and what do you?” She started off in a whisper, but her voice didn’t stay that way for long. “What do you do? You walk right on up and steal it right off the shelf when she ain’t lookin’ like a dirty. Rotten. Thief!”

Apple Bloom punctuated the last three words with a slam of her hoof against the comforter, saving the hardest strike for last. She was shivering again, but it was more from anger than anything else. Anger at herself, like a trail of fire ants crawling up her spine and working their way out to all of her other extremities, tingling and burning incessantly. Her jaw clenched, her head throbbed, and her eyes darted all around the room, as if trying to find something to lash out at.

It was inevitable that, as they made a complete revolution, they came to focus in on one object in particular. The source of all of her hardships: the tan saddlebag, perched on the edge of the bed like a bird. A mockingbird. The apple insignia beamed brighter, illuminated by the rays of setting sun flowing through the window.

The girl’s hooves curled inward, grasping the comforter so tight that the wrinkles formed all the way down the bedsheets. She bared her teeth, sneering with contempt. The bag did not flinch.

Anger boiled into fury, and her sneer turned into a bestial snarl. She planted her front hooves into the bed and stood up on a set of shaky legs. The bag remained unaware of its plight. She lowered herself like a cat stalking its prey, flickering flames of rage reflecting off the tears that were forming in her eyes, and took a single, galloping step forward with a hoof reared behind her head.

And then, with a vicious swing, she clobbered the bag. Her hoof connected right with the dead center of the mocking red apple; right where she’d been aiming. The offending object careened from the foot of the bed, flying until it rammed into the dresser against the far wall. Like a dead thing, it slumped back down to the floor.

Apple Bloom knees shook so hard they were knocking together. She exhaled heavily through tightly clenched teeth, her breaths sounding like the hissing of a snake as she stared at the pitiful looking bag, slumped over as though knocked unconscious. Then, she looked up. A wide mirror sat above the dresser, reflecting the entire width of the room back at her from corner to corner.

But Apple Bloom noticed nothing in the reflection. Nothing, that is, but the image of another filly glaring back at her. A filly whose eyes were unblinking, the whites of each one tinted red and filled with fury. Hatred. A filly whose jaw was clenched so tight that the veins of her neck bulged at the seams. A filly who looked ready to kill.

A filly that couldn’t have been her, but was.

For a few seconds, she did not move a muscle. Not a sound in the room but the lingering, empty echo of stale air.

Then, she collapsed onto the bed, hiding her head in her forelegs. She began to cry.

Knock knock knock.

A hoof rapped against her bedroom door. The sudden sound made her head shoot up. A muffled voice sounded from the other side.

“Hey, Apple Bloom? It’s me. Can Ah come in?”

Oh, no. It was Applejack. Fueled by panic, Apple Bloom shot up to her hooves and scampered over to the head of her bed, laying her head down on the pillow, all while trying to avoid making noise. She dug her hooves into each of her eyes and swiped the tears away in a near-frenzy. “Uhh, uh…”

She paused, her mind racing. She wanted to say no, to play it safe. But if she did, then that was sure to make her sister even more worried…

“Y-Yeah,” she called back, making her decision. She bunched her hooves up underneath her and laid on her side in an effort to make it look like she’d been sleeping. “Sure…”

In that instant, Apple Bloom’s eyes shot open wide as she remembered, too late, the pecan bun in the saddlebag, which was lying against the dresser on the other side of her room. It was right in front of the door, in plain sight…

The doorknob turned with a click, and Apple Bloom held her breath, dropping her eyelids on purpose to make it look like she was tired. Applejack walked into the room. She wore a melancholy smile, and in her left hoof was a small glass bottle filled halfway with a dark-colored liquid. A little spoon was clipped onto the side.

“Hey, sis,” Applejack greeted. Thankfully, she did not appear to see the saddlebag on the floor and made her way over to her bedside. “How ya feelin?”

Apple Bloom kept her breathing steady and under control. She shrugged her shoulders. “Not too great… feelin’ kinda sick.”

Applejack pursed her lips in sympathy. She set the bottle down on the floor. “Aw. Ah’m sorry, Sugarcube. What kind of sick?”

For once, Apple Bloom was telling the full truth when she replied, “My stomach. A little…”

Applejack nodded her head in understanding. She pointed to the bottle she’d brought in with her and craned her neck a bit. “You think you need some medicine? Ah brought it up here just in case you thought it’d help. Ah mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to…”

Applejack took her hat off and fanned herself with it. The room was nowhere close to hot. Apple Bloom eyed the bottle on the floor, and her lips curled down into a frown. She remembered the last time she’d taken some of the medicine from that bottle, and it hadn’t been pleasant. She shook her head.

“Err… Ah think Ah’ll pass...”

“Ya sure?” asked Applejack. She donned the hat once more, cocking her head back toward the door. “Ah know it ain’t the best tasting thing in the world, but Ah can getcha a spoonful o’ sugar if that’ll help it go down easier…”

Apple Bloom shook her head again, a little more emphatic this time. “No, Ah’m good… thanks, though.”

On the outside, Apple Bloom was calm as could be. But in her mind, the filly was begging her older sister to leave. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the act…

“Well, alright, then,” said Applejack. She picked the bottle back up in her hoof and, for a second, peered down at it with a blank expression written on her muzzle. Then, she placed it on Apple Bloom’s beside table. “Ah’ll leave it here just in case you change your mind. And remember, just one spoonful,” she added in.

Apple Bloom’s legs and ear twitched. Every second her sister was spending in the room with her only compounded the nervous feeling in her gut. She swallowed hard.

“Yeah. Got it.” She nodded to indicate that she understood. Applejack gave her a thin smile.

“Good. Don’t wanna overdose, now.” She forced a chuckle. Apple Bloom put forth no such effort. Quite frankly, she would have given anything for her sister to just leave right then and there. In her paranoid, anxiety-ridden mind, every second Applejack spent in this room with her only compounded her chances of being discovered.

But Applejack was not finished.

“And… Ah also came up here for another reason.”

Apple Bloom’s ears perked up, suddenly on high alert. Applejack turned her face away, slowly taking the Stetson hat off her head and holding it against her chest. “It’s about what happened at Sugarcube Corner…”

The very mention of the sweet shop’s name made Apple Bloom’s heart go into convulsions in her chest. Another knot of warm phlegm formed in her throat, almost making her gag. Pupils wide, her hooves gripped the pillow tighter and tighter as she waited for Applejack to keep talking.

“…Ah’ve just been thinkin’ about it ever since we got home, and… Ah just wanted to say that… Ah’m sorry. Ya know, about the whole ‘cinnamon pecan bun’ thing and not havin’ enough money…”

A stabbing pain in her chest made Apple Bloom wince. She squeezed the pillow tighter to her body. Applejack continued, not seeming to notice.

“…Ah know Ah might just be makin’ a big deal about somethin’ that don’t need to be, but… that wasn’t right. Ah know ya told me nothin’ was wrong an’ all, but… Ah shoulda just been able to tell ya Ah didn’t have enough money before Ah made ya a promise Ah couldn’t keep.” She grimaced, denting the felt of her hat as she pressed it in tighter against her chest. “It wasn’t right to get your hopes up like that. Ah’m… real sorry, sis.”

For a time, neither pony said a word. Applejack focused on the wall next to the bed, face partially hidden behind the brim of her hat. Meanwhile, Apple Bloom had to bite her quivering bottom lip so hard it nearly drew blood.

“Can you forgive me, AB?” Applejack said in a near-whisper. Apple Bloom opened her mouth to reply, but let it fall shut when a shuddering breath escaped her. She pushed her face deeper into the pillow and slid a hoof up to act as a wall between her and Applejack.

“Uh-huh…” She shook her head yes. Relieved, Applejack smiled and reached her hoof over the side of the bed. She brushed it over Apple Bloom’s mane, making the filly tense up like a coiled spring. Her soft voice cooed in the girl’s ear.

“Thanks, Sugarcube.”

At last, after feeling as though she’d been imprisoned in her own room, Applejack withdrew her caressing hoof, donned her hat, and headed for the open door. Apple Bloom, however, remained motionless, staring at her bedroom wall.

“Good,” she said, walking until she was in front of the door frame. “And if ya need anything, just holler, ‘kay?”

Apple Bloom nodded again. She adjusted the pillow under her head, wiping a stray tear streak she’d been hiding from Applejack in the process. “Okay…”

All Ah need is for you to leave… please, please, PLEASE just go already…

Applejack was almost out the door. Her hoof was on the doorknob. The hinges emitted a slight squeak as the door closed until it was just a crack. Apple Bloom shivered as a cool wave of relief washed over her body.

Then, just as her tail and back hind hoof were all that were visible, Applejack stopped dead in her tracks without warning. Lazily, the door swung into her croup, emitting a slight, dull thud. The air caught in Apple Bloom’s lungs mid-breath.

Oh, horseapples…

To her horror, Applejack did a one-eighty, walking right back in. Replacing the smile that had been on her face was a pained expression, brow furrowed with both ears folded back.

“And… you know, if ya want, we could…” She paused to clear her throat. “…we could drop by there tomorrow after school. Ah could get you one then, if ya want.” she suggested.

Silence from the bed.

“Or… you know, if ya still ain’t feelin’ good enough to go to school, Ah could just stop by and bring one back for ya…”

Silence, still. The room was going dark as sun’s lower edge made contact with the horizon. Applejack titled her head.

“AB? That sound good with you, hun?” She stretched her neck up, trying to get a glimpse of Apple Bloom’s face. She did not budge. Applejack waited for a moment or two before, at last, Apple Bloom responded, barely audible.

“Y-Yeah…”

It was enough for Applejack. She eased herself out the door by taking a few backward steps until only her front half was inside the room. “Okay. Well, Ah guess Ah’ll just be headin’ out, now…”

All of a sudden, she froze mid-step. She held her front hoof up above the ground, her head directed toward the center of the room. Over at the dresser.

Apple Bloom could tell right away that something wasn’t right. She thought her sister had left already. She chanced raising her head from the pillow to see what was going on, and just as she suspected, Applejack was still there. But it was where Applejack was looking that made Apple Bloom’s blood thicken into syrup in her veins.

Her saddlebag, still lying next to the dresser. Applejack was looking right at it. Terror wrapped its cold claws around her throat and dug into the flesh.

“Oh, sis…” Applejack shook her head, tsk-tsking. “Ya gotta stop just leavin’ all your stuff lyin’ around willy nilly. Just ain’t the way it’s s’posed to be done.”

By the time she finished her sentence, she was only a couple of steps away from the discarded saddlebag. Apple Bloom pressed her foreleg over her mouth to suppress a cry.

Oh my gosh oh my gosh…

Applejack gently wrapped her foreleg around one of the straps and lifted the whole thing up from the floor. Apple Bloom felt like choking on her own tongue. Five seconds stretched into an immeasurable length of time in her mind.

The bag made a light thud as Applejack lightly tossed it onto the floor beside Apple Bloom’s bed. Mercifully, the flaps remained closed, allowing none of the contents to spill out or be revealed. Apple Bloom inhaled sharply, but muffled it with the pillow. Applejack tilted her hat toward her in farewell, her body sliced in half by the waning rays of sunlight beaming in through the window.

“G’night, Apple Bloom,” she said. “Ah’ll be here if you need me. Hope you feel better, Sugarcube.”

The sun made an odd sort of path on the wooden floor, a street of gold forged by the waning stream of light coming through the glass. Applejack treated it as if it were an actual road, her entire body glowing as she left the room. She grabbed the knob, stepped out, and the door began to swing shut once again.

What happened next, Apple Bloom was not entirely sure. But it was something she would never forget.

Time itself ground to a standstill. Illuminated by the light, tiny particles of dust hovered in midair, frozen in space. Even the air in her lungs went stale, as though she were inhaling raw flour. She felt her own pulse pounding against the artery in her neck, drumming a steady rhythm inside her skull, and sweat seeped through her pores, forming marbles that trickled onto the pillowcase. Her forelegs trembled, her shoulders quaked, and her whole body shivered…

And, just as the door had nearly clicked shut, just as the wish for her sister to leave was about to come true…

“Applejack!”

What are you doing?

The name had come out as a mix between a cough and a shout. Without hesitation, Applejack flung the door back open and poked her head inside.

“Yeah, sis?”

Silence hung over the room. Apple Bloom did not speak a word. Instead, she stabbed a hoof into the comforter and pushed herself up onto a set of visibly shaking legs. She looked ready to fall over. Applejack raised her eyebrows.

“Uhh… what’re you d—” Applejack began to ask, but stopped in the middle of the question. She noticed the shimmering in Apple Bloom’s eyes immediately, as well as heard the short, suppressed sobs coming from her throat. “What’s wrong?”

Apple Bloom ignored her. She dragged herself over to the edge of the bed, already crying freely as she did.

Oh, no you don’t! Don’t you dare!

She leaned over the bedside and snatched the saddlebag in her right hoof, tossing it up onto the bed. The faintest stench of cinnamon assaulted her nostrils.

Don’t!

She loosened the strap.

Ah said DON’T!

She flipped it open, reached into the bag with her mouth, and tasted the pastry on her tongue.

“Apple Bloom, what in tarnation are you…”

She took out the bun and, half by accident, let it fall onto the blanket. Daring to look up, she saw Applejack’s jaw flap for a second with unspoken words, and then go slack.

Apple Bloom was only able to say one last thing before she broke down into a fit of sobs.

“Ah’m… a thief.”

Author's Note

I'm not sure how this one turned out. If it sucks, lemme know. I'm busy as buhjeebus ATM, so I wrote this while multitasking other junk. I think it turned out well overall, but I've been wrong before.

Hope this had a feels-y impact and stuff. Next chapter... I have no idea when that one's coming out. None. It'll be good, though.

Going for a Walk

Author's Note

It's finally done. Hallelujah.

I really hope it's good, guys. I wrote it in a bad state of mind, so I don't know if it's up to speed with the two chapters preceding it. But we'll see, I guess. It really is shockingly difficult to try and write something with a happy ending when you're feeling like crap.

Hopefully, this conclusion makes sense and feels natural. Don't be afraid to let me know if it doesn't!

~Arwhale

Going for a Walk

Apple Bloom tried to make herself as small as possible. She bunched up both forelegs beneath her, curling her tail around her front to act as a protective barrier. Two small damp spots formed on the comforter beneath her downcast eyes. The filly gave no effort to reign in her crying as her chest heaved against the blanket with every sob.

She waited, eyes shut. For the anger, the disappointment. For her sister’s shouts to nail her to the bed. Her ears twitched with apprehension, listening for the inevitable.

But as the seconds ticked by, nothing came. Not even so much as a whisper. Flickering first, her eyelids slowly slid open, revealing a world blurred by tears. She hesitated before daring to lift her head.

Seated on the floor in front of her, in the same spot as before, was Applejack. Her eyes were framed by the lines on her brow, forming a shallow V on her features. But strangely, the mare’s gaze was directed off into space, right out the window and into the oncoming sunlight that seemed to be cutting the room in half. Her lips were creased into a frown, pursed tightly together to stop them from quivering, and for a brief moment, Apple Bloom noticed the glint of the sun’s rays reflecting off of her sister’s eyes.

It was a look she recognized; the times she had seen it were times not so easily forgotten. It wasn’t disappointment so much as it was betrayal; it wasn’t anger so much as it was devastation. Apple Bloom’s stomach dropped into her gut, and she felt as though she was about to be sick.

No loud shouts or angry glares could have condemned her more than seeing that look on her sister’s face.

Applejack’s pursed lips opened slightly, letting a stifled breath escaped from between her clenched teeth like a hiss of steam. A small knot traveled down her throat as she audibly swallowed.

“Y-You…” Applejack took another deep breath. “…You took it when Ah was with Pinkie? When Ah was helpin’ her?”

She still hadn’t turned to face Apple Bloom. Her voice sounded pained, like somepony had driven a hammer into her gut. In the space between them, the pecan bun lay on the blanket, flattened and cold, an ever-present reminder of the crime. Apple Bloom gave a shaky nod of her head.

“Ye-Yeah…” she stammered. “Ah did…”

Applejack’s head shook slowly in response to her answer. It was difficult to see, but Apple Bloom noticed right away. She felt her heartbeat thumping against her ribs as she sank further into the bed.

“Just…” Applejack had to pause again, narrowing her eyes. “Why’d you… take it? Steal? Th-that ain’t you…”

She trailed off, closing her mouth again to grit her teeth together. The muscles on her jaw bulged. Apple Bloom began to cry again, struggling to say anything coherent.

“Ah-Ah dunno… Ah…”

“That ain’t an answer,” Applejack cut her off. She hadn’t raised her voice, but its sternness made Apple Bloom shiver.

“Ah… Ah don’t…” She was losing what remained of her composure, fast. “…Ah don’t wanna make you mad…”

The sound Applejack made was an odd mix between a snort and a guffaw. She shook her head mirthlessly. “It’s a little late for that, sis…”

The statement caused a new batch of tears to spring to Apple Bloom’s eyes. Try as she did, the words she was trying to form in her brain were refusing to come out. She felt helpless, like she was treading water in the open ocean with no land in sight.

“Ah, Ah just… Ah was…” She stumbled over her words. “… Ah was just mad, c-cuz you said that Ah c-could have one, a-and then you were gone an’ Ah saw them just sittin’ there an’ Ah…Ah…”

Apple Bloom’s eyes darted all around the room. The muscles in her abdomen tightened up as her diaphragm spasmed in a dry hiccup.

“Ah…”

The colors in front of her blurred together.

“Ah… Ah didn’t, Ah don’t want…”

She choked.

“Ah don’t want…

She tried to stop herself from breaking. She really did.

“Ah-Ah…”

But it had been a losing battle from the very beginning.

“…Ah’m sorry!” Her voice cracked, knees giving out from underneath her again as more hot tears poured down her face. She wailed into the sheets. “Ah-Ah’m sorry, Ah don’t know why Ah took it, Ah-Ah don’t know why, Ah… Ah didn’t wanna, Ah… Ah don’t wanna, Ah don’t… Ah’m sorry Ah’m such a rotten thief! Ah’m a horrible pony! Ah ain’t no Apple! Ah ain’t nothin’ at all! Ah-Ah’m sorry, Ah’m so s…”

Through the haze of despair, she felt something take a hold of her. Gripping her around the shoulders, pressing in just tightly enough to hurt. She squeaked, cringing like a wounded dog and shutting her eyes tight.

And then, she felt her whole body leave the bed. She gave a sharp breath, feeling for a moment like her entire body was suspended over a chasm, before two arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her into an embrace.

The still voice of her sister made it through her folded ears.

“Shh… calm down, hun, calm down…” She rubbed Apple Bloom’s back up and down gently, resting her chin on the nape of the girl’s neck. “Calm down…”

But Apple Bloom was not in a state that could be reasoned with. She continued to weep, uttering endless, breathless apologies. “Ah’m sorry, Ah’m sorry, Ah’m s…”

Applejack squeezed a little tighter, her left hoof never ceasing its soothing massage. Apple Bloom’s soaked face rested against her chest. “Shh, please, sis. Ah forgive you. Ah know you’re sorry. It’s okay, calm down. Ah ain’t mad at you, Ah promise…”

Applejack’s last statement made herself wince the moment it had left her lips. It was not as if she had forgotten what she had said in the heat of the moment only minutes prior. And judging from Apple Bloom’s renewed cries in response, she hadn’t, either.

“Yeah you are!” she yelled back. The hurt in her voice was plainly evident. “Ah know you are!”

The words hovered in the space above their heads, suspended in mid-air. Applejack grimaced. “N-now, AB… Ah know Ah said that before, b-but Ah…”

Apple Bloom wasn’t listening. “An’ why wouldn’t you be? You should be! Ah ain’t honest, Ah tarnished the family name, Ah… Ah… Ah ain’t even an Apple at all!”

She fell limp, buried her face into Applejack’s chest, and wept.

Applejack felt every heave of her sister’s ribs, the girl’s ragged breaths hot against her underside. She drew Apple Bloom in tighter, brushing her snout through the distraught filly’s mane. “Oh, Sugarcube…”

The sunlight, a focused ray of gold beaming through the window, fanned out into oblivion. Applejack rocked Apple Bloom gently from side to side as the room darkened around them. Eventually, the cries subsided into whimpers and the occasional sob.

Apple Bloom slumped against the warm body that held her tight, breathing softly through her mouth. Her head felt swollen like a balloon from her crying, and a steady ache worked its way into her entire frame. She could have fallen asleep right then and there, fevered and fatigued…

“Apple Bloom.”

Applejack said her name. Her eyes, stuck together with the muck of dried tears, peeled open. She felt the arms around her loosen their tight grip.

“Sweetheart…” she heard Applejack again. Then, her sister released her completely, setting both forelegs down on either side of her. Apple Bloom suddenly found herself having to support her own weight, making her stumble a bit. But before she could fall over, Applejack placed a hoof on her shoulder to keep her steady. Apple Bloom looked up, to see that her sister’s appearance was oddly neutral. In fact, it was almost as though the tongue lashing she knew she would be getting wasn’t coming after all…

“Sugarcube… Ah want you to come with me,” she spoke gently. “We’re gonna go for a walk.”

Such a simple statement. So innocent, said as though they were about to go for an afternoon stroll. Apple Bloom knew better. She swallowed, feeling another ball of warm phlegm that was stuck to the inside of her throat, and nodded.

“O-Okay,” she replied. It wasn’t as though she felt like she had any choice. A ghost of a smile played out on Applejack’s lips, and she nodded back with approval.

“Okay.” She walked over to the bed, passing her. Apple Bloom didn’t turn her head around, as if having curiosity would get her into even deeper trouble. She heard some shuffling behind her, and when Applejack came back, she was wearing Apple Bloom’s saddlebag on her back.

“Alrighty. Come on.” Applejack cocked her head toward the door. Apple Bloom said nothing, but followed her out of the room, eyeing the saddlebag on her sister’s back with an inquisitive stare. She nearly asked why Applejack was carrying her bag with her, but held her tongue.

The hallway seemed to stretch like a cord of rubber, lengthening with each step. The sensation made Apple Bloom dizzy, so she used the wall to her right as a guide to keep herself straight. Applejack walked only a couple of steps in front of her, but the distance appeared longer to her than it actually was.

When they reached the stairs, Apple Bloom felt as though she were about to tumble down them head over hooves, wobbly and weak at the knees. Once again, she hugged the wall for balance, but keeping her center was a challenge. She sniffled, mentally pushing aside the dread that iced her veins. The coldness was only magnified when Applejack opened the front door, letting in a draft of early autumn air. Goosebumps formed on her skin.

“Yeesh. Sun’s almost completely down.” Applejack peered at the horizon through the crack in the door. Where the sun had once been, it had left behind little more than tinge of pink and a gilded frame around the few clouds which remained in the sky. “It’s gettin’ later than Ah thought.”

Apple Bloom didn’t reply. She stayed back a few steps, stomach sinking in tandem with the sun’s descent. Applejack stepped outside, but propped the door open with a back hoof to let Apple Bloom out. She was hesitant to accept the invitation, but eventually she forced one leg in front of the other until she felt nothing but dirt beneath her hooves.

Applejack let the door swing shut with a small click and continued forward. Apple Bloom waited until she was a short ways away before she followed suit, staring at the ground. A slight breeze washed cool air over her back, making her shiver. Applejack looked over her shoulder and addressed her with a tilt of her head.

“Come on, sis.” She gestured to the spot beside her. “Ah can’t talk to ya if you’re way back there.”

Apple Bloom pulled her head up from the ground. Applejack was smiling at her, but just barely. Even so, Apple Bloom didn’t have the nerve to disobey what she felt was some kind of order, despite the relaxed tone in her sister’s voice. She sidled up to her reluctantly, still shivering. Once she was there, Applejack resumed her course, walking down the path with Apple Bloom at her side.

About a minute, perhaps two, went by without a word exchanged. The moon took up residence in the sun’s place, a waxing gibbous that illuminated the path and the surrounding field. For Apple Bloom, it felt quite strange that the two of them were out at this time of the day, walking together under a moonlit sky. Usually, by this time she would have been seated at the kitchen table, doing her math homework or reading a book…

“Sugarcube…”

Applejack interrupted her musings. At the mention of her nickname, her ears perked up, suddenly on the alert.

“… Ah’d be lyin’ if Ah didn’t admit Ah was mad. When you showed me that bun, Ah mean.” She was speaking down at an angle to make herself easier to hear. “Ah guess you can say that Ah felt… betrayed. Like… like Ah’d just been stabbed through the back with a bale hook.”

That description was enough to make Apple Bloom wince. She closed her eyes and nodded her head, whispering under her breath, “Ah’m sorry, sis…”

“Ah know y’are.” Applejack replied, keeping her voice level. “And y’know…in a way, you were kinda right. Ah… Ah wasn’t wrong to be mad. Hay,” she chuckled, “if Ah wasn’t, Ah think that would mean there’s something wrong with me.”

The little traces of amusement or mirth didn’t translate over to her younger sibling, whose face remained stoic and solemn. Applejack cleared her throat.

“…but Ah wasn’t mad fer the reasons you might think.” Applejack suddenly stopped in the middle of the path without warning. Apple Bloom’s response time was a little delayed, but she halted in turn. “Ah was mad, sure, but Ah was mad because o’ one, simple thing. Because this…”

Applejack reached into the saddlebag she was carrying and pulled out the flattened, stale pecan bun and held it in her hoof. Apple Bloom sucked in a sharp breath of air.

“…this ain’t you. Ah know you, sis. And you know what? Ah know you’re better than what you did today. What you did was real bad, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“No Ah ain’t.”

Apple Bloom cut her off mid-sentence. No sooner had she done so than she began to turn away, as if ashamed of her outburst. Applejack frowned.

“Ain’t what?”

Apple Bloom took a moment to answer. She shook her head slowly, tracing a small line in the dirt path beneath her hooves. “No Ah ain’t. Ah… Ah ain’t better ‘n that.”

Her statement hung in the air between them like a noose. Applejack pursed her lips, appearing deep in thought. “Why not, sis? What makes you say that?”

Apple Bloom sniffled, swiping a stray tear off her cheek and gritting her teeth together. “C-Cuz Ah already stole before. Ah… Ah took the heart’s desire from Zecora back when Ah was tryin’ to get my cutie mark, a-and now today Ah took the pecan bun from Sugarcube Corner…”

The more she spoke, the softer her voice became until it was barely audible. Regardless, Applejack made up for the loss of volume by leaning her head in closer.

“… and Ah ain’t like the rest of y’all. Y’all don’t cheat nopony, never. But Ah-Ah ain’t honest like you, or Granny, or Big Macintosh. A-and… Ah don’t feel like an Apple. Ah d-don’t think Ah really b—”

“Stop that right now,” Applejack said, giving her a stern glare. Apple Bloom was silenced immediately, shrinking into the ground as more tears began to form in her eyes. “Don’t… don’t you ever talk like that, y’hear?”

There was a warbling undertone in her voice. Apple Bloom lowered her head so far down that her snout touched the dusty path.

Applejack’s hoof below her chin, lifting up her head until she was looking at her face to face. From how close they were, the moonlight’s reflection off the surface of her eyes could be seen.

“No matter what you did, no matter what you do, you’ll always be a part of the family. You’ll always be an Apple.” She reached out and wrapped a hoof gently around Apple Bloom’s withers, bringing her in close. The filly accepted the hug with closed eyes. “Even the best of us make mistakes, or do things that we feel guilty about. But that don’t make us bad ponies, sweetheart. An’ it don’t make you a bad pony, neither.”

Apple Bloom felt the foreleg around her shoulders tighten its grip. She sniffled again. “Ah… Ah know. But Ah still don’t - hic! - feel right…”

Applejack nuzzled her cheek. “Ah know. An’ it’s alright if you feel guilty, still. That just means your heart’s in the right place.” She kissed Apple Bloom on the top of her head. “But don’t let that guilt beat you down. Don’t let it make you think that you ain’t worthy of forgiveness, cuz you are.”

Apple Bloom listened closely to Applejack’s whispered words. The warmth of her sister’s breath on her ear made it twitch.

“And Ah forgive you, sis. Ah do.” She loosened her hold and allowed Apple Bloom to lean back a ways until they were eye to eye. “Okay?”

Despite Applejack’s reassuring smile, Apple Bloom could not keep the nerve to look her in the eyes. Instead, she seemed to stare through her and into the nighttime sky, deep in thought.

It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Applejack, of course. But if her churning stomach was anything to go by, there was something that wasn’t settling right with her. In a way, it all seemed too easy. Like she’d been convicted of robbery, only to be set loose at the end of the trial, to roam the streets once more…

Finally, she answered. “Okay.”

Applejack’s smile widened, but just a bit. However, it strangely disappeared as fast as it had come. She turned around, hooves scraping lightly over the dirt, and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she repeated. She closed her eyes. “Ah’m glad, sis. But…”

There it was. The catch, the exception. The unfinished business. This wasn’t going to be easy, after all.

“… But Ah ain’t the only pony you need to apologize to.”

At that instant, all the moisture evaporated off her tongue as though it had been under a heat lamp, leaving her mouth dry as sand and her throat coarse as keeled scales. Apple Bloom’s legs seized up underneath her, and her pupils, widened as they were by the darkness, shrank to the size of pinheads.

Suddenly, it all became clear. Why it hadn’t been before, she didn’t know, but now it seemed so obvious. Their walk had a purpose, and its destination was a place she would have given anything to avoid. The hairs over her body went rigid.

“Applejack…” she croaked. “Ah… Ah d—”

She trailed off, giving up on any effort to speak. No good would come of it, anyway. She hung her head.

Applejack smiled sadly, and in a curt nod, pointed down the path with her head.

“We ain’t got much time ‘til Sugarcube Corner closes.” She started forward. “Let’s go, AB.”

…

Apple Bloom walked as though she were being pulled on a chain leash. She swallowed bile that bubbled up from her stomach and into her throat, resisting the urge to heave at the prospect of what she was going to do.

Ponyville’s streetlights obscured the stars as they walked onto Main Street. Being in the town’s main square after dark was a rare experience for her, and she was surprised at how much it gave her the creeps. Truth be told, it was not that late, but she and her sister were nearly the only ponies left outside. Had it not been for the light glowing in many of the windows on either side of the street, she would have expected a tumbleweed to barrel across the cobblestone in front of her…

And then, just like that, there it was: the smell. The enticing aroma of sugar and glaze, of cinnamon and cocoa, all complimenting one another in a harmonious symphony of smells that could tempt even the most strong-willed of ponies.

This time, Apple Bloom nearly did throw up. She pressed a hoof over her cheeks as her abdomen clenched, and she could feel the acidic burn on the back of her throat. But somehow, she restrained herself just enough to get away with only a quiet, dry heave before the sensation subsided.

Apparently, the small sounds made by her stomach’s grisly efforts had not gone unnoticed. Applejack stopped for a moment, concern written on her face, to ask, “Y’ okay, sis?”

Apple Bloom still had a hoof clutched around her lower belly, and her face was locked into a long-lasting grimace. Still, she nodded her head.

“Yeah. Ah’m f-fine…” She looked up from the road, but no sooner had she done so that she found herself staring at the dust on her hooves once more. Right in front of her, the candy cane columns and gingerbread overhang framed Sugarcube Corner’s front door. Beside it, the ground floor window still glowed, and faint silhouettes could be seen moving within.

Applejack turned around, closing the small gap between them with a couple of steps. Apple Bloom glanced in her direction, but still resumed her examination of the cobblestone.

“Alright…” Applejack reached around her shoulder and picked the saddlebag off her back. “It still looks open, but Pinkie’s probably closing up shop real soon. Here…”

She set the bag gently over Apple Bloom’s croup, giving the strap a slight tug to make sure it wouldn’t fall off. The filly made no movement, standing solemn and still as though she were being prepped for execution. Applejack tapped the pouch on the right.

“The pecan bun’s in there, okay?” she said. Apple Bloom gave a slow, single nod.

“O—Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. Her front legs tensed up in an effort to stop from shaking. She felt Applejack’s hoof run through her mane.

“You can do it, sis,” she encouraged. “Just show her the bun, tell her what you did, and say that you’re sorry and that you won’t do it again. Alright?”

The instructions were simple enough. But that didn’t make the task any less daunting to Apple Bloom than it already was. She went over the steps in her head, breathing in deep to calm herself down, but the harder she focused, the faster her heart drummed in her chest. Confessing her crime to her sister had been one of the scariest experiences of her young life, and to be faced with doing it all over again was even more terrifying.

“Alr… Alright,” she replied with a hiccup. Applejack responded by giving her a small nuzzle on the base of her neck, a comfort which she gladly accepted.

“Good.” She took a step off to the side, leaving the path to the door wide and clear. “Ah’ll be right behind you. Ah won’t say anything because Ah want you to do this on your own, but Ah’ll be right here for you.”

And that was that. The conclusion of the sentence meant only one thing: her time was up. It was time for Apple Bloom to ascend the gallows. She gulped and blinked back a threatening tear.

“Okay… Thanks,” she added in after some pause. At this point, even the smallest of comforts were much appreciated. Steeling herself, she made the first step towards the door,.

Thinking back as far as she could remember, she realized that she had never seen Pinkie Pie angry. Sad, perhaps, but never angry. But after tonight, that was a fact that was likely to change. Vivid images of Pinkie’s face, her brow scrunched downward at her and her piercing eyes fixing her to the floor, flashed in front of her eyes like a projector screen.

And why wouldn’t she be mad? she thought to herself. You betrayed her. She did something nice for you, and you repay her by stealing from her shop?

Her blood thickened into paste in her veins, making every step more difficult on her way to the door. Applejack’s hoofsteps behind her assured that there was no going back. Nowhere to go but forward, nothing but to accept her fate…

She pushed the door open with one hoof, and with a steely glare of determination, set hoof inside the dreaded building once more.

The cheerful jingle of a silver bell announced her arrival. Its happy tone was a betrayal in and of itself, a false promise to the shop’s occupant that something good was on its way. Apple Bloom scanned the bakery from left to right, looking for Pinkie.

In the process, her eyes inevitably came across it again: the platter of pecan cinnamon swirl buns. Or, that is, what was left of it. Out of the once mighty pyramid of sweets only a few remained on the plate, but the sight of them was still enough to bring the memories of her bad deed to mind.

Fortunately, Apple Bloom did not have to reflect for long. The kitchen door swung open, and Pinkie Pie came rushing in, taking a spot behind the glass display counter.

“Welcome to Sugarcube Corner, how may I—” She saw the two of them standing there and immediately stopped. The pink pony tilted her head. “Oh. Didn’t expect it to be you girls again. What’re you doing back here so late? I’m closing up shop in fifteen minutes and I…”

“Hold on there for a second, Pinkie.” Applejack held up a hoof to stop her before she could get to rambling, as she was sometimes wont to do. “Ah’m sorry if we mighta came in at a bad time, but do you got a few minutes?”

Pinkie glanced between Applejack and Apple Bloom. Her poofy mane was slightly more frazzled than usual, and the question made her shift her hooves over to the kitchen door like she was prepared to make a run for it.

“Uh…” Her front hooves did a little dance on the floor. “…Uhh, yeah, that’s fine. What’s up? Oh no,” she gasped, “I didn’t give you the wrong recipe, did I? Ohmigosh, I’m so sorry! I’ve just been scatterbrained lately since the Cakes left me in ch—”

“No, no, not at all, Pinkie,” Applejack quickly dismissed her worries. “Don’t worry, that’s fine. We’re here because of… well, something else. Somethin’ my sister needs to tell ya.”

Apple Bloom’s lungs seized up, and it suddenly became hard to breathe. She waited for a little while in silence, half-expecting her sister to say something further, when she felt something pushing against her flank. Already in a tense state, she resisted it on instinct, but Applejack was much stronger, and she was soon standing right in the middle of the room. Apple Bloom looked behind her as Applejack retreated back to the wall, leaving her all alone in the middle of the room.

Her eyes widened, as if pleading. Applejack would have none of it. She gestured to Pinkie with a nudge of her snout.

“Go on,” she said. A ghostlike smile flashed on her lips for the briefest moment before sternness returned. Apple Bloom froze for a second, feeling a chill set upon her. Then, she turned her head to face Pinkie once more.

The other mare remained behind the counter. Her raised eyebrows and wrinkled forehead made it clear that she was puzzled by what was going on.

“What’s the matter? Is everything okay?” she asked, first to Applejack, and then to the filly standing right in front of her. “Apple Bloom?”

Pinkie’s mentioning of her name nearly caused her to jump. Apple Bloom suddenly found herself staring right into the older mare’s eyes, two blue orbs that gazed right back at her without waver.

Apple Bloom swallowed air. Her mouth had gone dry quite a while ago. She took in a shuddering breath through her nose, held it in her lungs, and released it in one, long sigh. This was it; the time had come.

And then, she spoke.

“Pinkie Pie…” She just barely managed to get the name out of her mouth. “…Ah got something… Ah-Ah got something…”

Another pause. She was at war with her nerves, and her nerves were winning. She took another breath, and continued while Pinkie waited.

“Ah have to t-tell you s… somethin’ th-that Ah… Ah…”

Frozen again. She couldn’t get the words out. It seemed like every time she tried, she’d choke up. She berated herself in her own head, tried to force herself to spit it out, but the words stuck to the lining of her throat like wet paper. She didn’t have to look to know that Applejack was probably glaring at her from behind. Pinkie Pie, on the other hoof, was frowning, unsure of what to think.

“Yeeeaah?” Pinkie craned her neck forward and squinted her eyes. “What is it? You can tell me, it’s okay…”

Apple Bloom began to shiver. Escape from this was not an option, and she knew that very well. But fear and shame made her dumb, and she didn’t know how to snap herself out of it.

There was only one other option. If she couldn’t say it…

In a swift motion, Apple Bloom reached around to her saddlebag and grabbed tight hold of the strap. Partly from frustration, she tossed the bag violently over her shoulder, causing it to land with a loud thwap on the tile floor. Both Applejack and Pinkie jolted from the impact.

“Um… you okay? What are you doing?” Pinkie walked out from behind the counter. Apple Bloom did not respond, oblivious to anything else around her except the task at hoof. She grabbed the flap of the right side pouch in her teeth and flipped it open.

Pinkie Pie exchanged a glance with Applejack at the other side of the room. The farm mare pointed wordlessly back to Apple Bloom, whose head was now in the pouch of the saddlebag. Pinkie frowned. “Something wrong? Did I do s—”

She stopped dead in her tracks. Apple Bloom’s head emerged from the bag with something held in her teeth. She dropped it onto the floor, and it rolled toward Pinkie until coming to a halt at her hoof.

Pinkie’s eyes locked onto the pecan bun. Apple Bloom watched her closely, making herself small.

For a moment, the other mare’s face was blank. The bun lay face up, the glistening icing and what bits of pecan that hadn’t fallen off already on full display. Her brow furrowed down.

“Heyy, is that… that’s one of the Cake’s pecan cinnamon swirl buns…” She observed in a puzzled tone.

Now, the damage had been done; after all the dreading and waiting on the edge of what she couldn’t escape, there was nothing left to hide anymore. Apple Bloom closed her eyes to suck in treacherous tears, and nodded.

“Ah-Ah know… Ah…” She swallowed a sob. “Ah stole it.”

The revelation brought the tension in the room to the point where it could be felt like static in the air. The words took a second to sink into Pinkie’s brain, and when they did, her jaw dropped.

“Stole? Y-You… when did you…?” Pinkie pointed to the bun, and then to Apple Bloom, and then back to the bun. “How’d you, I mean, how…”

“Ah took it from the plate when you ‘n Applejack were in the kitchen.” Apple Bloom mercifully cut her question short. “Ah just…”

She stopped herself before the words could leave her lips. Now was not the time for excuses, but for apologies. No more beating around the bush. She chastised herself in her head, and tried again.

“…Ah’m sorry for stealing from you, Pinkie Pie,” she said. “Ah’m really sorry. Y’all tried to do somethin’ nice for me, a-and Ah…”

More lousy tears. Apple Bloom gritted her teeth, wiped them away, and continued.

“…Ah still stole from you, all just ‘cause Ah was mad. Th-That ain’t right. Ah b-betrayed you… It wasn’t your fault, i-it wasn’t anypony’s fault. Ah’m… sorry Ah was a – hic! – thief.” Apple Bloom choked on the last word like it was poison. “An’ Ah promise Ah won’t never steal from you, or from anypony ever again. Ah promise. Ah promise…”

She punctuated her vow with a loud sniffle. During her apology, she had put forth her best effort to look Pinkie in the eye as she spoke, but she soon found herself right back where she had started: face downcast, eyes shut, and head nearly touching the tile.

Now that Apple Bloom had said everything that was necessary, she waited. Waited for Pinkie to penetrate the silence. Waited for the shrillness of her angry voice to cut the air and her heart in one slash.

Her expectation only made the reality that much more shocking.

“…Pinkie Promise?”

Apple Bloom’s ears twitched. Her eyes snapped open. “Huh?”

“You know…” Pinkie’s voice again. Strange; it didn’t exactly sound very angry. “… Stick a cupcake in your eye?”

Apple Bloom lifted her head. She was greeted with the sight of Pinkie standing right over her, only a couple of steps away. She gasped a little, almost jumping back a step from surprise.

But before she could react, there was something that popped out at her. It seemed so out of place at a time like this, but there it was anyway; Pinkie was smiling.

“Well, do ya?” she asked again. It still took some time for what Pinkie was asking for to sink in, but after a moment or two, Apple Bloom understood. She affirmed her emphatically, nodding like a bobble head.

“Oh, oh, yeah yeah, of course, uhh…” Apple Bloom went over the crucial steps in her head, trying to remember all of the times she’d seen her sister or her friends make the promise with an irrational desperation, on the verge of panic.

“C-Cross my heart, uhh…” She sat down on her haunches and drew an X over her chest while trying to remember the next line. “Uh… Cross my heart, a-and…”

“Hope to fly,” Pinkie added in, her smile widening. Apple Bloom moaned, slapping herself in the forehead. How could she have forgotten that?

“Oh yeah, duh! Sorry… Cross my heart, hope to fly…” she made sure her right eye was closed before jabbing it with her hoof. “… s-stick a cupcake in my eye?”

She ended the swear in a sort of question, still not quite sure of herself. Fortunately for her, Pinkie nodded in approval.

“Yep! You got it,” she replied. Her tone was oddly cheerful. “I forgive you, Apple Bloom.”

Then, there was another last thing Pinkie did that seemed totally out of place; she reached out, wrapped her forelegs around her, and pulled Apple Bloom into a crushing bear hug.

The suddenness of the gesture took Apple Bloom completely aback. She had no time to react, Pinkie’s limbs moving like a blur as they enveloped her. In fact, for a span of a few moments Apple Bloom even found it a little difficult to breathe.

Luckily, the hug did not last for very long. Pinkie let go of her and scooted back, leaving Apple Bloom by herself on the floor with her mouth opened in shock.

“B-But… wh-why’d, why did ya, why’re y—” Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. Not sound that was coherent, anyway. Pinkie gave her an amused grin.

“Why what?” she asked. Apple Bloom made her confusion apparent, holding her forelegs out in a gesture to the stale bun, which was lying a few hoofsteps away from them both.

“Well, y-you, Ah mean… Ah just thought you’d be, y’know…” Apple Bloom winced. Now that things had turned out far from what she had expected, it almost seemed an insult to Pinkie’s character to admit. “…mad at me. You know, for stealing and bein’ a rotten thief, an’ takin’ advantage of you…”

Such a suggestion seemed absurd to Pinkie, who shook her head adamantly. “Mad? Oh, no no! I’m not mad, Apple Bloom. Disappointed, sure, but not mad. And whoa whoa whoa, hold on for just a second there!” She held out her hoof like a pony directing a line of carriages to stop. “You are not, I repeat not a ‘rotten thief.’ You’re a great filly! It doesn’t mean you’re a bad pony just because you do something bad. We all have bad days, right? I mean, look at me! I get bad days all the time!”

Pinkie giggled. Despite herself, the humor broke through the lingering shame, causing Apple Bloom to laugh right along with her. Pinkie dipped her head down until they were both at the same eye level.

“Everypony makes mistakes. Believe me, I would know,” she said with another chuckle. “Okay?”

Apple Bloom simpered. Already, her breathing felt less labored and heavy. All of the fear that had been pressing down on her lifted off like a bushel of apples from her back.

“Okay,” she replied. Pinkie was glad.

“Good. But…” She wrinkled her chin in a slight grimace. “… I’m still going need the three bits. Cuz, you know, I can’t exactly sell that poor pecan cinnamon swirl bun to another customer now that it’s been everywhere.”

And just like that, the smile fell right away from Apple Bloom’s face. Granted, she should have expected that much, but for whatever reason, it still came as an unpleasant surprise. Nonetheless, she pursed her lips in stoic acceptance and nodded her head with understanding.

“Ah know... Ah promise Ah’ll pay for it as soon as Ah can. Ah don’t got any money with me right now, but Ah get my allowance this T—”

“Hold on there a minute, Sugarcube.”

Applejack piped up from the other side of the room, interrupting before she could finish. Both Pinkie Pie and Apple Bloom’s heads whirled around at the sound of her voice; she’d been so quiet that they’d both forgotten she was there at all. She frowned and shook her head at her sister.

“You ain’t using your allowance money to pay for it. That’s a privilege, not a guarantee,” she said sternly. “You’re gonna have to earn that money, sis.”

Apple Bloom’s countenance fell at the declaration. The word ‘earn’ carried a negative connotation in her mind, especially where hard work was concerned. And in their family, hard work lived up to its name. She sighed, but resigned herself without a fuss.

“Sorry… Yes, Applejack.” She turned to Pinkie. “Ah’ll pay for it as soon as Ah’ve earned the money, Ah promise. Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”

She did the necessary gestures with her hoof. Pinkie patted her on the head.

“Thanks, Apple Bloom. I know you w—” She trailed off abruptly. A hoof drifted up to her chin, striking a contemplative pose. “Hmm…”

The sudden switch of tone brought a sense of unease to the room. A shallow V formed on Apple Bloom’s brow.

“Uhh…” She sounded nervous.“What is it, Pinkie Pie?”

At first, Pinkie made no indication that she had heard the question. She stared at the kitchen door, a thin, almost mischievous grin spreading on her lips. Then, she replied.

“So, I uh…” She paused. Her smile turned sheepish. “…Tomorrow’s gonna be a really busy day for me, because I got a huge order to fill for Dinky Doo’s birthday party. Her mom’s really pulling out all the stops since she didn’t have one last year, so there’s gonna be a lot to do. But after I fill it…”

She turned to the two Apple sisters with a giggle. “…There’s gonna be a lot of dishes to wash. And not just from that order, either. I’ve always been up super late this week ‘cause I don’t get a lot of time to do them during the day… you know, ‘cause the Cakes are still gone and all that… and tomorrow I was planning on pulling an all-nighter. But now… I’m thinking, you know…”

Pinkie tapped her hooves together. She winked at Apple Bloom.

“…maybe if I got some help?”

…

The moon’s glow was unobstructed by the cloudless sky. Its light was needed, as many of the glowing windows along Main Street had gone dark, leaving only the occasional street lamps to illuminate the road. Every hoofstep was amplified by the empty streets, an odd echo which reverberated around town like the inside of a yawning cavern.

Neither Apple Bloom nor Applejack had said anything since they’d left. Though, to be honest, there really wasn’t much else to say, after all. The apology had been made, and the sentence had been delivered. Helping Pinkie Pie scrub an endless mound of pans and mixing bowls after school was ruled a reasonable penance for her crime. Perhaps it was not quite what Applejack had in mind, but there was no arguing with the idea of serving the pony she’d wronged directly. If anything, it was better.

The arrangements had been made; Apple Bloom would come in right after school and wash anything that needed it, and would continue to do so until after closing. Of course, Pinkie would show her the ropes and make sure she did a good job. After it was all done, Pinkie would consider the stolen bun paid for.

“Thanks a lot, Apple Bloom! Have a good day at school tomorrow!” The pink pony had said, wishing her well as they’d walked out the door. She’d said it with great cheer, as though Apple Bloom had volunteered out of the goodness of her own heart rather than an obligation.

Instead of anger, she’d been met with nothing but kindness. Kindness that, quite frankly, she did not think she deserved…

“Y’know, sis… Ah’ve been thinking. About earlier, when we were talkin’ on the way.”

Applejack spoke beside her. The suddenness of it caught Bloom’s attention immediately. She perked one ear up while the other remained folded on her head.

“And… Ah realized something.” She stepped forward and leaned her head in, crossing her neck over Apple Bloom’s in an affectionate nuzzle. Her bottom lip quivered.

“Ah never told you how proud Ah am o’ you. For tellin’ me the truth, Ah mean,” she added. “O’ course, y’know Ah’m always proud o’ you, no matter what. But Ah really, really mean it, Sugarcube. Ah-Ah’m...”

She sniffed, wrapping her foreleg around Apple Bloom’s neck. The filly was taken unawares, but found herself melting right into it anyway.

“No matter what you do, don’t ever think you ain’t one of us. Don’t ever think you ain’t an Apple. You’re my sister, and Ah couldn’t be more proud o’ you. And…”

She let go, scooting back a step. For the first time that night, Apple Bloom actually dared to look up at her.

“Ah know you’re still feelin’ guilty. You haven’t said a word since we left,” she observed, brow creasing down with worry. “Hay, you’ve been draggin’ your hooves so bad Ah can see the scuff marks behind you. But Apple Bloom... Ah forgive you. Pinkie Pie forgives you. And now…”

Their noses almost touched as Applejack spoke softly to her, face to face. Apple Bloom never took her eyes off of her.

“…now, you just gotta forgive yourself.”

Silence let the words sink in. Apple Bloom blinked once. Twice. Her mouth hung open, but no words formed on her lips. Applejack stroked her once over the top of her head, playing with the frills of her pink bow. Finally, she broke the odd silence, turning herself around. She beckoned to Apple Bloom with a hoof.

“C’mon, sis.” She pointed to her back. “Climb on. Ah’ll carry you back home.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. Blankness was all that registered on her expression for a minute, but as Applejack insisted again with another jab of her hoof, she complied.

“Uhh, Ah, uh… alright…” she stammered. With reluctance stemming from embarrassment, she stepped up to Applejack’s side. Applejack helped her up onto her back, fumbling awkwardly with all four of her limbs until Apple Bloom had a good grip around her sister's neck. She felt the warmth from Applejack's coat radiate upward, causing her to grasp tighter as a cool breeze washed over her.

“You comfortable?” she heard Applejack ask. She nodded once.

“Yeah…” she buried her face in Applejack’s ponytail. The last time she’d taken a spot on her sister’s back had been a while ago, and she’d forgotten how soft her mane really was. Applejack smiled.

“Good. Now let’s get home.”

Apple Bloom in tow, she started forward, leaving Ponyville behind.

In spite of the cold, the rolling feeling of being carried acted as a silent lullaby. Warmth from underneath her shielded her from the cool breeze, and Applejack’s hoofsteps tapped a steady rhythm on the dirt.

The same phrase played back in her head, over and over again like a pony's voice speaking right into her ear. Only this time, the voice was her own.

Now, you just gotta forgive yourself…

It was so dark that she didn’t even notice her eyes close.

…

Twenty minutes passed before Applejack stepped through the front door.

The soft glow of a candle flickered in the living room corner, illuminating Big Macintosh. He was seated in the big armchair with a book in his hooves, and upon seeing his two sisters emerge through the front door, he fixed Applejack with a fiery glare.

“Now where in the hay have you b—”

He stopped himself short of finishing. His pupils dilated when he saw the still form of Apple Bloom, fast asleep on Applejack’s back. A gentle snore came from her throat. Applejack held a hoof over her mouth in a shushing gesture.

“Ah’ll tell you in a bit.” She headed for the stairs. “Shh…”

She walked on the tips of her hooves, creeping up the stairs like a cat so as not to jostle Apple Bloom from her back. Big Mac watched with an eyebrow raised in puzzlement, but said nothing.

Applejack pushed open her sister’s bedroom door and snuck inside. She clenched her teeth together in concentration and lifted Apple Bloom, saddlebag and all, off her back, setting her down onto the comforter as gently as she could with her head resting on the pillow. The girl’s ear twitched, but she didn’t move. Her snoring resumed.

Applejack wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead in relief. Moving quickly and quietly, she slid the saddlebag off of her back and set it at the foot of the bed, careful not to make any noise. Then, grabbing the corner of the blanket, she pulled it over Apple Bloom’s body, wrapping her like a cocoon. She stroked a hoof over her head, which poked out of the covers.

“Sleep tight, sis,” she whispered. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

She kissed Apple Bloom on the cheek. No response. Applejack glided over to the door.

“Ah love you, Apple Bloom."

Creaking of the hinges.

"More than anything."

The door clicked shut.