Up in the Clouds, Down to Earth

Another hot day. Hot. Bright and hot and... and...

Hot.

He wipes at the sweat pouring down his forehead. He goes to clear his throat, but it feels like something sharp is caught in there. Clearing turns to coughing and then hacking, ending in spitting something thick and terrible out onto the cracked, dry dirt.

The lines of his plow pull at his collar as he recovers, pulling a few deep breaths into his slumping form. It hurts, deep in his chest, that woozy, out-of-breath ache.

The plow. That damn, stupid, beat-up, piece of shit plow. It feels like he's been plowing forever. It anchors him to the spot, sunken into the dark soil of Sweet Apple Acres. It even pulls his eyes down, weighing the lids over his burning, itchy...

He shakes his head. Awake. Awake, awake and strong and he can do this.

We can do this.

He strains and pulls, his hooves sliding over the dirt. The plow doesn't move an inch – it weighs dozens of tons, glued to the dirt, chained to the bedrock. He grunts and grits his teeth, growling and pulling and cursing under every labored breath...

"Hey there!"

He stops, glancing around. Everything's blurry – he blinks a few times, and his sister drifts into view in front of him.

"How you doin' out here?" she asks, dragging her hooves up next to him.

She's wearing a yoke, balancing a pair of buckets at her sides. He sees what's in them, and darts for one so quickly he chokes himself on his collar.

"Ack!" He coughs and chomps, stomping his hooves in the dirt.

"Whoa there! Hang on, hang on, I gotcha." Applejack sidles up to him, turning her side and laying a bucket right under his muzzle. He dives in, lapping lukewarm water up like a dying dog.

Everything changes. The cracks in his lips and throat disappear, the fuzzy cotton in his head drifts away. He dips his whole face in and snaps up, shaking and gasping, blinking the wonderful water out of his eyes.

He looks around, catching his breath. Applejack is watching him, her eyes bright even through the exhausted wrinkles around them. He knows how dull and lifeless his own eyes look in the mirror every morning, and he wonders how.

How is she so much stronger than him?

"...Thanks," he says quietly.

"Thought you might be a bit thirsty out here," she says, with a cheeky half-smile.

He snorts back at her.

"Boy howdy, you sure have taken a bite outta this job," Applejack says, looking around proudly. "How much more you think ya can polish off today?"

He blinks at her in disbelief. The field is huge, stretching off in every awful, sun-choked direction. He's barely done one corner of it.

Applejack fidgets on her hooves a little, waiting for some kind of answer. She forges ahead without one. "Just sayin'... we gotta get plantin'. Time's a wastin', so I figgered we'd just plant whatever you got done today."

She's right, of course. There's too much to plow, all the same – too much land, much too much for one pony. Or two. The rate he's going, it'll barely feed them, let alone leave any over to sell.

Applejack throws a dark frown at him, like she knows exactly what he's thinking. It's not exactly a new problem – too much, just too much. Too much land, too many trees, fields lying fallow and rotten for want of able bodies.

The frown disappears. "Yeah, this should be alright..." she mutters, looking out over the field. "Maybe we split this one, corn and wheat? They used to go back and forth with this field, right?"

Mac just shrugs his shoulders.

"Think that was it," Applejack mutters, more to herself than anyone else. "See, last year that other field was corn, so that puts the corn here this year. That's how it's done. I s'ppose, anyway. You remember?"

Mac shrugs again. How does she know this? There was a plan?

"'Course, we wouldn't have to split it if'n we can plow both fields... by tomorrow. But we're sunk real good if we don't deal with those cows tonight." Applejack strokes her chin, hard at work in her head. "Maybe we could just..."

He wipes at his brow again, playing a desperate card. "Hire some help on?" he asks.

Applejack turns on him – he cringes back, hearing an animal snarl in his head.

"Yeah, right!" she scoffs, glaring at him. "'Cuz it worked out so well last time! Thievin' varmints. I ain't payin' a bunch of snakes to lie around, chattin' it up. Eatin' our crop. No way, no how!"

Mac frowns deeper. What would they pay with, other than food?

"Naw, naw. We got this, big bro. We don't need any o' them." Applejack looks out over the barren field, nodding sure and proud. "This here's Apple family land, and all we need is Apple fa– oh hey, look who it is!"

He does. It's a sight for sore eyes, a fuchsia angel trotting towards them through the field. He rises, just a little, the aches in his legs fading away.

"...Cheerilee," he mutters, just a bit breathlessly.

"Hi!" She bounds up to them – clean and healthy and happy, out of place by miles. "And how's my favorite brother-sister team today?"

"Just fine, ma'am!" Applejack tips her hat, beaming at the older mare. "Thank ya kindly!"

"Eeyup," Mac nods along – he can't think to say more. It's enough, enough just to see her.

"Thirsty?" Applejack shuffles sideways towards her.

"Oh, no thanks. Just got here," Cheerilee says. Her back is bare – the usual saddlebags full of books are missing, and she looks strange next to his laden-down sister.

"Well, uh... guess I better get back to the house. Lunch's on in a minute!" Applejack says, very loudly. She throws Mac an obvious wink and trots off with purpose, leaving Cheerilee a friendly nod.

They both watch her go, sloshing water onto the dirt as she bounds off. He feels Cheerilee smirking at him, that clever little sideways thing she keeps hidden so well.

"She's so subtle," Cheerilee says, her smile growing and blooming.

"She tries," Mac says, casting a fond glance at his sister in the distance.

"Shame, too. I was going to ask her what she needed help with."

"Aw, Cheerilee..." He shakes his head. "You don't gotta go and do that."

Again. He doesn't say it, loathe to think about it.

"I don't think I would do much good out here with you," Cheerilee says, shrugging like it's obvious. "I've got the rest of the day off. And don't say you two don't need the help."

Rest of the day? He squints at her, feeling the thick, itchy cotton in his brain again.

"Ain't you got, like, homework or somesuch?" he asks.

"...Not today," Cheerilee says, glancing away. At the dirt. "You know, end of the semester."

He nods, even though he doesn't know. He nods again, but...

He glances up at the sun. What time is it? Better yet, what day is it? Wednesday, maybe?

"What time is it?" he mutters out loud, not meaning to.

"Oh, uh... I'm not sure. Five?" Cheerilee says, pawing at the ground with one hoof.

The sun is high in the sky above him, glaring down gleefully. It takes him a few seconds, a light bulb fitfully sputtering to life above his head.

"Cheerilee!" He glares at her. "What are you doin' here?!"

"What do you mean?" she glares back at him, pretending in words only.

"Yer skippin' class again!"

"...Maybe," she says with a surly pout.

Mac snorts loudly, reining in a growl. "What are you thinkin'? You ain't even gonna graduate, rate you're goin'!"

"So what?" Her anger fades in an instant, her eyes softening into... goddess, it hurts to even look at them. Soft, and sad, and... and...

He turns away, forcing his eyes shut. He feels her run a hoof against his cheek.

"Mac, please," she says. "You look awful. You're dying out here."

He winces, grunting something that doesn't quite qualify as words.

"I want to help you," Cheerilee says, every word weighed down.

He almost says it. Fine, fine and thank ya, yes please oh Celestia stay and help. She's proven how much help she can be, every weekend and a few days more. She's strong, and rested, and pulls her weight with her whole heart and a smile behind every move. It's wonderful, having her here.

He snaps out of it.

"No," he says, turning back to her, all stern father. "We got this, me and AJ. You gotta get back to class."

"Pfft." Cheerilee rolls her eyes. "Listen to you. Class. Like you ever cared before."

"YOU cared before," he says.

She pouts angrily, scrunching her muzzle at him.

"Besides," he goes on, "you just got accept... accep–" His throat catches on itself, sharp and dry. He coughs and grunts, feeling Cheerilee's arm on his shoulder immediately. "That fancy teacher school. Out in... out in..."

"Fillydelphia," she says, her brows narrowing. "I'm not going."

"What?!"

"I'm not going." She turns her nose up in the air. "I'm staying here."

Filly! He almost says it, just like his father used to. He can't quite muster the gumption – Cheerilee would tear him apart if he ever talked to her like that, and he knows it.

"To do what?" he says instead, knowing the answer. "That's like, yer... yer whole dream, your mark!" he says, pointing at her flank with a hoof. "Raisin' them foals up right!"

"They're just smiling flowers," she says hopefully. "Maybe I'm supposed to settle down on a farm."

She smiles at him, a whole, wonderful world there in her eyes. Of course she could stay, stay here, with him. Move in, and bring life to this bare patch of dirt, bring her cheerful beauty and sharp mind and brighten up the whole damn place. She could be there, at his side...

At his side.

Every day.

Slaving away under a hot sun in dust and mud, every day, for years and years and years until even her bright eyes are dull and flat and tired.

"No."

"What?" she says.

"No. No, no, no way, no how," he says, copying his sister's tone perfectly. "You love teachin'. Ain't much to teach around here."

"What?" she says again, unleashing those sharp eyes at him. "You can't tell me what to do! I don't have to go to Fillydelphia!"

"I ain't tellin' you what to do," he says. "I'm tellin' you what I'll do."

She stops short of a retort, hanging her mouth open a little, daring him to go ahead.

"You stay here..." he says, wincing, tiptoeing up to the edge. He's thought about this before, imagined saying these words, wondered if he could ever really go through with it.

He sucks a breath in. There's nothing else for it.

"You stay here, and we're through," he says.

"What?!" Cheerilee blinks at him.

"You heard me." He tries to puff his chest out, to draw himself up. It hurts, high in his belly. "If you don't go to that college, we're done."

"You don't mean that," she scoffs.

"I do," he says, hoping it sounds more sure than it feels. "Look, I know it ain't that Canterlot U like you wanted..."

"Sure, right!" Cheerilee rolls her eyes viciously. "I'll just go to some second-rate degree mill while you're stuck here. That sounds perfect."

He winces. She hadn't seemed bothered about the rejection, at the time. But he knew it hurt her. He knew, in a thousand little ways.

"Oh, Mac," she softens instantly. "I didn't mean... you know, stuck. Like that."

He blinks at her. Who's stuck?

"This is a lovely place," she says, looking up at him with hope in her eyes. "I like it here. With you."

He narrows his eyes – she knows him, and she's better at this than him. His only hope is hunkering down and not moving.

"No," he says.

"No what?"

"No. You gotta go to that school."

"I'm not going anywhere!" she says – her anger is worlds different than the mares of his family, a simmering, sharp glare that hides, hides until it just can't help but boil over. And when it does, it cuts.

But he's got thick skin. He digs his hooves in. Nothing else for it.

"You ain't stayin' here," he says, lifting his nose, stern and haughty.

"Why do you want me to leave?" she cries out, her eyes brimming with water.

He holds his pose, but he's breaking inside. He can't last much longer, he knows it, not against that, but if he can just stand here, stare, look stoic just long enough...

"Fine!" she barks, angry tears leaking out just a bit. "Fine! Maybe I will go to... to Fillydelphia," she says, groaning out the accursed place. "I'll just leave for years so you can forget about me and find yourself a nice farm mare."

"Chee–" he starts to say.

"No! No, you're right!" she growls, backing away. "You don't even want me here, so why should I stay?"

"Come on now, you know –"

"You don't need me here?" she says, suddenly small and scared and lost.

He does, of course he does, he needs her more than anything. He can't even begin to say it, it's so huge and so obvious, like describing the open sky. He just stares at her instead, his jaw hanging slack a little.

Her lips start quivering – he's forgotten to say anything. Again.

At the worst possible time. Again.

She turns to leave.

"Wait!" He moves to meet her, but the lines of his plow yank him back, choking off his next words.

"Don't follow me!" She glares back at him, slashing through her tears. "You have work to do."

She trots away, pretty quickly for how low she's hanging her head, sobbing quietly with every step. He stares, anchored down by his collar, just watching her leave.

She's right, of course. She's always right.

He bows his head, too.

Is she?

Maybe she IS right. Maybe it'll be okay, maybe she can just quit school, just like him and AJ, and they can all turn this piece of land back into what it was before...

He shakes his head. No, no, no. Before. Remember before. She had plans. She's always had plans.

It's fine. Everything's fine. She's a small pink speck now, shrinking into the distance beyond the empty fields. Shrinking, but not gone yet. There's a few months still before she'll graduate and leave.

She'll be back. He knows it. She'll come by later, in the dying light of evening, and she'll knock on the door all quiet and they'll talk and whisper and cry and probably make love and say a whole lotta things. She always comes back.

She always, always comes back.

• • •

Mac dumps his collar on the dusty wood of the barn, grunting a relieved grunt. He nudges it up against the wall with his nose. He stands again and feels light as a feather, the hints of a dopey smile creeping out on his lips.

He steps out of the barn and looks out over hills and fields, thick with produce. The sun's getting ready to set, and the day is getting nicer by the minute. Not exactly cool, not this time of year, but cool enough. One of those perfect summer evenings.

He wanders towards the house, making a point of taking his time, just staring at nothing in particular. Not thinking of anything in particular, either, nope. No sir, not anything much there to dwell on. What would he even think about?

Last night? Sure, it was fun and all, but what –

Fluttershy. Fluttershy, trembling, eyes wide, shaking her head as she scoots away from him. He's seen it before – maybe not quite so bad as that, but there are only so many ways a mare can say get away from me, you creep with her body.

His dopey smile, budding just slightly, wilts down to nothing. Nope, no mistaking – none of that "hard to get" malarkey.

Tiny pupils, darting around him, dodging his eyes.

He slows down, his hooves plodding softly through the grass.

She couldn't even talk, just whimpering.

He sighs. She's right. She's smart, not to like him. For the best.

Then why...?

Well shoot, ain't that easy enough? It was some kind of scheme her friend cooked up, no doubt. But Fluttershy wasn't having any of it. If he'd had any doubts...

I... said... n–!

Yeah. No, not having any of it. He heaves another heavy sigh. That's one mare out of his reach. Shame, really – he'd always kinda had a shine on her, ever since he'd first seen her.

But... no. Just no. For the best.

At least he'd had a nice chat with Rarity – even through all that, even if it was some kinda scheme. Never hurt to have a pretty mare pay you some mind. Celestia knows it's been a while – a LONG while, a dry spell the likes of which a younger him would've scoffed at.

And that ain't changin' anytime soon.

Right. Rarity's pretty, sure. Well, she's always been pretty, but now...

She's a whole lotta mare, no gettin' around that. More than a mare. A LADY.

He shakes it off. No point startin' down that road. Fool's game, anyway – she wasn't talkin' to him, not really. She was playin' matchmaker, and havin' her fun, and that was that. Seen that before, too, plenty of times.

And ended up doin' the matchmaker anyway. Plenty of times.

None of that! Not this time. Not anymore. It ain't like that – not with her. It's just not.

Besides, it's not like she's one of AJ's friends or anything.

He snorts quietly.

It's not like she actually likes you.

He nods to himself. Done here. That's all there is to it. He turns, coming face to face with a very narrowed pair of eyebrows over a set of bright green eyes.

"What are you doin'?" Applejack asks.

"AH!" He jumps back, shamelessly startled. "Uh..."

Applejack barely budges. "Yer just walkin' around in circles out here," she says, still glaring at him. "Y'alright?"

"...Yeah," he mutters. "Just, uh... thinkin'?"

"Thinkin'?" She snorts, just once. No need to even tell a joke.

Mac ignores it – he's on high alert for something else. They haven't talked much today, because if there's one mare he does know how to read, it's his sister. And there's something gnawing at her, something about him.

"You have fun last night?" she asks suddenly.

"Sure," he says innocently. "Did you?"

Her glare darkens. That was the other reason they hadn't talked much – Applejack had spent most of the day nursing a champion-class, blue ribbon hangover.

Again, no need to even tell a joke.

"You chat up any ladies?" Applejack asks.

Oh, horse apples.

Of course. He was sure she hadn't seen, but of course she found out.

"Look, uh..." he starts to say, cowering just a little.

"Rarity was askin' about ya," Applejack barks, rolling over his words. "Don't suppose you two ended up talkin' last night?"

"Well yeah, but –"

"Ah knew it!" Applejack crows in bitter triumph.

Mac winces, settling down for the usual lecture.

"I knew she was gonna pull somethin' like this," Applejack growls. "What did she say? Are you two goin' out already?"

"Nopony's goin' out anywhere," Mac says. His mouth is on autopilot – his head is stuck, Fluttershy's squeaks of terror ring out in his head, the panic in her eyes plain as day.

"Oh sure, for now!" Applejack sits back on her rump, just so she can throw her forearms up. "I know how that sneaky white unicorn is. When she wants somethin' it's only a matter of time! Next thing I know, you an' Rarity will be gettin' hitched!"

...Rarity?

Mac blinks at her.

"I knew it!" Applejack grumbles again. "I bet she's already got her hooks in you! Probably came up to you with her fancy, pretty words, probably smellin' like a bag of flowers, all battin' her eyes and flouncin' that mane o' hers around."

Mac blinks again, still fumbling to catch up.

"Had to be her! Of all my friends, just had to be her!" Applejack says, gravely shaking her head.

"Hold on now," Mac says. "I know she's yer friend. I ain't chasin' after her, you know I ain't."

"Oh you ain't, huh?" Applejack pounces forward, getting right in his face, pounding his chest with a hoof. "Why not? She isn't good enough for you, after all that?"

"What?!"

"Thinks she's good enough for you," Applejack rambles, glaring off to the side, ignoring him. "Why, that frou-frou finaglin'... that fancyfyin' temptress... that... that..."

"...That friend o' yours?" Mac says.

Applejack turns back to him with a look that could level an orchard. For once, it shakes him – he shuffles back, too close to the fire in his sister's voice.

"That's right, she IS my friend!" Applejack yells. "One of my best! You hurt even one strand of hair on that overdone coat of hers, and I'll –"

"Whoa, whoa, back up a bit!" Mac says desperately.

Applejack doesn't. "An' I swear, if she thinks she can just run you around like all those colts she's got doin' favors for her... none of that! Not for my brother, no way! Thinkin' she can string you along, like poor lil' Spike..."

"AJ!" He bellows it out, unleashing a level of volume he's good at keeping hidden.

Applejack stops mid-word and raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to go ahead.

What in the HELL are you on about?

He doesn't say it. "She just said hello, that's all," he says instead, back to his usual subdued drawl. "Just chattin'."

"Hmph," Applejack grunts. Not having any of that.

"Look, I'm sorry," he says, bowing his head. "I know she's yer friend. I know, we talked about this. You're right."

Applejack just stares at him – her eyes soften, her shoulders relax, the hackles lie down flat. Mac can't believe his eyes.

She almost looks... sad.

"Well... I mean, it's been a while," Applejack says quietly. "I know what I said, but..."

Mac's jaw hangs open a bit. Now his ears must be broken – there's no way.

"Supposin' she likes you," Applejack says. "Suppose she really does. And suppose you got eyes for her?"

"Uh..."

"'Course you do. Why wouldn't you?" Applejack says. "I mean, the two of you should make a go of it, right? If that's what she wants." Applejack rubs one forearm with the other, grimacing off towards the sunset. "If that's what would make her happy. Right?"

"Uh...?"

"An' yer gonna treat her right, darn it. IF she comes callin'. I don't wanna hear nothin' about you goin' after her, doin'... Ah dunno, whatever it was you used to do."

Now Mac grimaces. It's been a happy long while since his sister saw fit to bring that up again.

A LONG while. Ain't it been long enough?

"Yeah, you heard me!" Applejack says.

Mac rushes to make his face blank, to cover whatever gave him away.

"You think I wanna have Rarity come up to me, all cryin', askin' ME why you don't come around no more?" she goes on. "You think I wanna hear her beggin' on her knees in front of you – oh yeah, no, I heard all those times – beggin' –"

"AJ, come on..." he grunts through a hurt scowl.

"And you," Applejack scowls right back, her voice low and mean. "You. Everytime. She'd be cryin' and beggin' and askin' why you wanna hurt her like that, an' oh please, Mac, please... and you just..."

She stands up straight and rigid. He cringes, really cringes, closing his eyes as his sister does her best impression of him.

"Nnnnnope," Applejack says in a dopey, deep voice. "Nope, Ah'm just too busy bangin' the seed seller's wife so's he won't cut Applejack any nice deals no more."

"Hey, I didn't –!"

"You didn't what," Applejack growls, leaning in, close and menacing, close enough to baste Mac with the sharp sting of whiskey on her breath. "You gonna stand there an' tell me you didn't tear up that poor fella's marriage?"

Mac tenses his shoulders up, staring off to the side. Sulking like a guilty colt.

"Maybe you didn't notice." Applejack shrugs, almost pulling off innocent sarcasm. "Yeah, I think that was right around when Aloe caught you cheatin' on her with Lotus, and then she caught you cheatin' on her with Redheart. Is that how it went?"

Almost. The Mayor was in there somewhere. He keeps his mouth shut.

"Guess you had your hooves full," Applejack growls quietly, saving up for the coming outburst. "You know Carrot Top won't even talk to us anymore 'cuz of you!" she yells, pointing a hoof off towards their next-door neighbor.

He just bows his head lower.

Applejack shakes her head, really putting her all into it. "And that's not even..."

"Hey!" Mac snaps his eyes up. They lock stares, scowling and fighting without moving a muscle, butting heads the way only siblings really can. Mac begs – maybe it looks angry, but he begs all the same – pleading with his sister to let that one lie.

She does – the words she was about to say fade out of her eyes. Mac sighs with relief – there are some places you just don't go. Even if it has been a long while.

Applejack gives him a long, hard stare. Thinking, maybe. For once, Mac has no idea what's going on in her head. She sighs and stares at the ground for a while instead.

"Sorry," she says quietly. " I'm bein' kinda hard on ya, huh?"

Mac doesn't say anything. It's okay. He knows he deserves it.

"I just... I know it's been a while and all..." she starts to say.

Mac perks up silently.

"I wanna ask you to promise me," Applejack says, locking eyes with him again, deadly serious this time. "But that never seemed to stop you before."

She may as well have hammered him in the gut. He barely moves, just a twitch of his ear and a slight tensed frown in his lips.

"Promise you?" he croaks.

"That you won't hurt her," Applejack says.

"I won't!" he says instantly. "Ah swear! I ain't like that anymore."

She glares harder. He thinks, for just a second, that she's going to tear into him again. Instead, she just nods.

"Supper's on in a minute," she says. She throws Mac one last look and then trots off with purpose.

He watches her go. But he doesn't move.

Well, that was... better?

Maybe.

How long has it been?

Years, easy. Years and years and lonely, lonely years. And even after all that, Applejack doesn't believe him. And why should she? They're just words. And his words had been proven worthless a long time ago.

I promise.

He means it this time. He does, he knows it. He's gotta show her, somehow... and here it is. His chance. A mare, one he can love and hold and do right by. If she'll have him.

She must know. About me. About what I am – was. She's gotta.

But she has her eye on him anyway. She asked about him, all the same. Could she...?

He takes a deep breath, puffing his chest out, standing straight and tall. Staring towards the house, where Applejack is no doubt putting a fine meal together.

He should be helping her. He should march right on in there and lend a hoof, like always, and sit down with his family and have a nice dinner. Like always.

He glances away from the house. Down the road. Towards Ponyville.

Now, now... AJ said...

He snorts. Sod on what AJ said! If the smell of her breath was any clue, she's probably lettin' some hard drink talk for her at least a little. Shoot, hair of the dog is one thing, but Applejack...

He winces again, falling down low just as he was flying high. Applejack.

No. Make it right. Come on, cowpoke, this is it.

He can show her. All of them. Maybe he's not a scoundrel – not anymore. He can court a mare, a lady, a friend of the family's. Court her proper-like. Like a real gentlecolt.

This is his chance, maybe the only one he'll have in a while. And it might never come back.

He looks at the house. Then down the road. Back and forth, glancing to and fro. This can work. This is right. He oughta march right on down road right now and make this happen.

But AJ...

He doesn't look back. Somewhere down that road there's a lady with her eye on him, just waiting for him to make her day.

And what kinda scoundrel would keep a lady waitin'?

He nods to himself, one last time. He sets off down the road, towards Ponyville.