Apples and Pies

Applejack descended the station steps behind Pinkie Pie. They'd arrived, tired and aching, into Ponyville by the early morning. They carried no luggage with them, since both their suitcases remained buried beneath a torrent of rocks along with the rest of the Pie home. Pinkie held her head low as she navigated the stone roads and bridges back to Sugarcube Corner. Upon arriving, she stood back from it for a few moments, hesitant to enter. Finally catching up next to her, Applejack seized the opportunity and sat down to rest her aching hooves. She glanced at Pinkie for the first time since they disembarked. Nothing had changed. The frown only seemed to solidify itself further like drying concrete.

"Ya know," said Applejack, attempting to put on a playful grin. "They say if you make a face for too long, it ends up gettin' stuck that way. You should try somethin' different. Maybe somethin' like this!" Applejack awkwardly pulled down her bottom eyelids and stuck her tongue out. She leaned forward to show Pinkie, but Pinkie remained focused on the house in front of her. In her eyes, she could only see Sugarcube Corner, the Cake's beloved home, crushed under a massive pile of rocks. The purple door opened.

"Pinkie! You're back!" Mrs. Cake exclaimed, waving a hoof. "Come on in, dear! You can tell us all about your trip over a plate of cupcakes."

"Thanks Mrs. Cake!" Pinkie shouted back, her trademark grin plastered across her face. Applejack regarded it with caution. "I'll be there in a sec! Just need to say goodbye to my friend first!" Mrs. Cake nodded, leaving the door open as she returned inside. When she fully left their sight, Pinkie's glum resurfaced.

"Applejack," she began, head facing down. "I'm so sorry about all this. Everything that happened... It was a mistake to go back there." She met Applejack's eyes. "I don't deserve to be in anyone's family. And I'm not. Not the Pies, not the Cakes, and not the Apples." Applejack recoiled at the last name. Pinkie shook her head. "Don't worry, Applejack," she said, donning her usual grin. "No more crazy boulder-house-smashing parties for me! That was strictly the only one!" Turning her gaze back over the house, a determined, yet melancholic look formed across her face. "You can count on it."

Before Applejack could respond, Pinkie ascended the steps and entered through the open door, closing it behind her. Applejack stared at the door for a few moments before being accosted by Twilight Sparkle, with Spike resting atop her back.

"Hey Applejack," she greeted, levitating the book she'd been reading back into her pouch. After removing the book from her vision, she noticed Applejack's stare, still unwavering from the door of Sugarcube Corner. She briefly observed the door herself, then turned back to Applejack. "Need help with something?"

Applejack shook her head. "Nope. Not this time," she responded. "This is something between sisters."

Twilight looked curiously at Applejack, and motioned to question further, but was cut short by Spike tugging at her mane. "This is between sisters," he said, his eyes closed confidently as he lectured. "We shouldn't interfere."

"And what would you know about sisters?" Twilight asked.

"Quite a lot, actually." He thought back to the Sisterhooves Social and the letter he wrote to Princess Celestia for Rarity and Sweetie Bell, as well as the various times he had to deal with Twilight's neuroses. "Trust me," he said.

Twilight looked at Applejack once more, then continued walking to her castle.

The next morning, Pinkie hurried out of bed and quietly descended the steps outside her bedroom, her luggage (including Gummy inside his glass cage) in tow. It was still early; at least, earlier than the Cakes tend to wake up, that she knew for certain. After transcribing a farewell note into a cupcake's frosting with a mixing spoon, she silently exited the bakery. As she descended the steps, one of the suitcases slipped forward from her back and tripped her, sending her flying down the rest of the way. She landed on her haunches, rubbing her head and trying to get her eyes to focus properly. When they did, she found the daily mail pony standing in front of her, an envelope in his mouth.

"Mhmmm, hmmhm, hmmmhm," he said through the paper. Pinkie giggled and removed the envelope.

"Mail pony special delivery!" he shouted. "Express mail expressly delivered, as per instruction of the sender. Now, you have yourself a nice day Pinkie."

"Um, thank you," Pinkie replied. The mail pony tipped his hat, then, after shuddering at the sight of Gummy, hurriedly continued on his route. Pinkie opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. She read it confusedly, her face changing expression with each sentence. Turning the envelope upside down, a single, tiny rock dropped out of it and into her hoof. She looked at the rock, then the letter, then her luggage. She repeatedly alternated between the three, before settling on the letter with an intrigued half-smile. Quickly returning her luggage inside, she sprinted down the road to Ponyville station.

Pinkie approached the end of the canyon walls. It was late afternoon by the time she'd arrived, with the sun resting low on the horizon. As she broached the exit, the nostalgia of the rock farm was upon her again. She made her way past Limestone's pebble, around the old stone well, and up to the splintered remains of her old home's wooden steps, looking up to where the porch once was. There sat Applejack, a pickaxe resting at her side. Rooted to the ground beneath her was the boulder that had separated them prior. Bits of cracked rock and rubble surrounded it, scattered about the brown field. Applejack was coated in sweat and dirt.

"Hey sister," said Applejack, reaching a hoof down to Pinkie. "Need a hand up?"

Pinkie nodded tearfully. She grabbed Applejack's hoof and ran her back hooves against the surface of the boulder until Applejack could pull her the rest of the way. Upon reaching the top, she noticed a rustic book laying in front of her. She picked it up and sat down beside Applejack, facing the coming sunset.

"I didn't want to open it till you got here," said Applejack. "I figured whatever is in that book, it'd be best if we read it together, as sisters."

Pinkie ran her hoof across the dusty cover, revealing the title: "Pie Family History". It was printed in orange font against a dull, gray background. Applejack placed a comforting hoof on Pinkie's shoulder, and Pinkie opened the book. She speed-read through most of it, keeping an eye out for a few keywords: 'removed', 'Applesauce', and 'Apple'. She was practically flipping through the pages, when finally she came to an abrupt stop on page three-hundred fifty-five, paragraph seven, line six-and-a-half. She read aloud.

"An excerpt from Auntie Applesauce:

"I suppose I should preface all this by saying that I never enjoyed rock farming. Rocks are hard and cold, much like how I initially thought of family. As soon as I could I left them and that life behind, hoping to find some grand situation in which I could earn my cutie-mark. That was when I stumbled into Ponyville, tired and starving. I'd run out of food, and for a hungry pony, Apple Acres is a sight to behold! Needless to say, I hopped the fence, and tried to climb up one of the trees to steal some apples.

"However, I kept falling down. Again and again I fell until I was so frustrated I reared up and kicked the tree. An apple fell from above, and I felt so proud of myself I gave it another kick. Another apple fell. Once more, and I'd have enough. I kicked it again with the full force of my enthusiasm, and was crushed beneath a red avalanche. I lay there unconscious for quite some time I imagine, before awakening to find myself laying in a rather comfortable bed with an orange earth pony sitting beside me. I thought she was going to yell at me, or kick me off her farm, but she just smiled and told me: 'You gotta watch out for d'em apples. Otherwise, you're gonna end up more squished than my ma's homemade applesauce!'

"She fed me and let me hang around doing work on the farm until I felt ready to leave. She called herself 'Paula', short for 'Paula Red'. Overtime, I came to regard her as family and, after receiving my cutie-mark for applesauce production, decided to stay on the farm with her. I even changed my name to Applesauce to make it official. I'd become a full-fledged Apple.

"I write in this book now with the benefit of hindsight. I'd wanted to denounce the Pie name and cut them out of my life. I'd wanted to leave and never see them again. I'd assumed they felt the same way. I was wrong. I write this now with tears in my eyes, so forgive me if this gets a little smudged, but sitting inside my old home right now, filling out this book with everyone--I don't think I've ever been happier. To you, our descendents, be you Apple or Pie, just know this: We love you. We always will."