Applejack walked up the stairs. They creaked with each step.
She closed the oak door of her bedroom behind her. It had swollen from the damp, closing it required an extra shove. Her bed groaned, as she dropped her weight upon it.
She did not realize how tired she was until the weight had been lifted from her limbs. After a long day bucking apples, she was content to simply lay on her bed.
Granny Smith had gone to visit with relatives, Big Mac would be spending the night with Cheerliee, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders were having a sleepover at Rarity's house. The Big Red Barn would be quiet for the night. Applejack had been looking forward to this, as much as she loved her family, it was always nice to have the house to yourself once in a while.
This is why she sat upright. She heard the stairs creaking.
She swiftly scrambled off the bed, and from beneath her mattress retrieved her shotgun, an apple family heirloom. It was not an extravagant weapon, but it was sturdy, like a friend, or a workhorse. It did its job and then some. The most ornate bit about it, were the apples carved into the stock. She loaded it with ferocious swiftness, and snapped it back shut. She flipped off the safety, and readied herself.
She door swung open. Applejack could not believe what she saw.
It was an orange mare with no hat, who stood in the doorway. Applejack stared at herself. The mare with no hat also had a gun, an apple family heirloom, pointed at Applejack. She was filthy, reeking of heartbreak and decay. Her fur was like a sheet of grass laid over rolling hills and pointed peaks. Her green eyes were vacant, of one who is dead and walking.
Applejack looked at her double, the one with no hat. She leaned in the doorway, not with swagger, but to support herself. Her forelimbs trembled from the weight of the gun.
The strange, yet familiar Applejack said in a slow, morose drawl,
"Listen Me, ya should thank me for this. You ain't gonna enjoy these next few years."
Applejack did not lower her gun.
"How so?"
The Applejack without the hat stared at Applejack.
"Everythin' falls apart. We lose the farm. And then, there's a sickne-"
She choked up, but shed not a tear.
"We lose everything," she finished, looking Applejack in the eye.
Her forelimbs shook heavily. The gun swayed. She uttered a single moist cough.
"How are you even here?" asked Applejack,
"You know Doctor Whooves?"
Applejack nodded,
"He has this newfangled time travel machine. We used it a whole lotta times to try and fix all that bad stuff that ended up happening. We did it so much that if we keep trying, the good doctor says were gonna rip a hole in space time. Whatever that means, the whole lot of it's a bunch of fancy science I can't make sense of. I tried to help where I could."
Applejack stared jaw agape, at herself leaning in the door way. The one without the hat coughed and wheezed for a moment, before continuing,
"He said that we could make one more round trip. This is what we decided to do. Or really what I decided to do. They dropped me off, as well as the others who wanted to end it all before it happened. Some, like the doctor, wanted to keep on tryin to live in that time, and trying to fix it without time traveling, but I don't really wanna do that.We can't go through all that sufferin' again."
Applejack did not lower her gun, and neither did the one without the hat. There was silence for many moments.
"I don't really know what to say. What can I say to that?"
She paused for a moment,
"What'll happen to Applebloom, and Big Mac, and Granny Smith?"
"I don't know," replied the mare with no hat,
"If you die, we die, we are the same pony after all. Maybe they'll leave, running away from sad memories of us. I tried to get them to leave before, but they wouldn't. This is the only thing I haven't tried."
"Did they die?"
The one with no hat looked at Applejack deeply with those tired green eyes.
"I don't think you want the answer to that question. And that's the honest truth."
There was no lie in her green eyes.
Applejack did not lower her gun. She only asked,
"Are ya threatenin' a mare with her own gun?"
The one with no hat set down the apple family heirloom. She kicked it over.
Applejack crouched to inspect the weapon, the one in her hooves still pointed at the mare with no hat.
It was apple family heirloom, identical to the one in her hooves, but for the apparent wear. It was not an extravagant weapon, but it was sturdy, like a friend, or a workhorse. It did its job and then some. The most ornate bit about it, were the apples carved into the stock. It was scuffed and dirty, much like the mare with no hat.
Applejack knew her eyes to be honest, too honest to lie to their bearer.
She looked up at the mare with no hat. She nodded at the mare whose fragility could no longer be hidden by wood and metal.
She had made her decision.
Still holding her gun, she procured quill and paper from her bedstand. She left a hastily scribbled note upon the oaken surface. She removed her hat, and hung it upon a bedpost.
She stepped past the other mare with no hat, and beckoned her to follow.
"I don't wanna be alone," Applejack said, as the steps creaked beneath their hooves.
They stepped out the big red doors, and took long, but slow strides to the orchard.
Applejack stopped beneath the trees. She turned. She looked at her double, the one that was like her, but not. Neither of them had a hat. Each was almost indistinguishable from the other, in the same way paired dishes are the same but for the fact that one is broken.
The gun seemed so much heavier now, it's metal more reflective, it's wooden surface rough upon her hooves. It seemed all the more beautiful.
She nodded at the other mare with no hat.
She brought the gun up to her muzzle.
And just like that, just as easily as breaking a dish, it was done.
What had once thought about trees and apples, now was entwined with those very things.
The one with no hat stood still beneath light shimmering off scarlet leaves.
She did not disappear.
Disappearing is typically not a wise business tactic.
Instead she went back through the big red doors, and up the stairs that creaked beneath her hooves.
She walked through the open door, and put the hat on her head.
She read the note on the bedstand.
It was all for my apples,
I love y'all, never forget
She crumbled it between her hooves, before shoving it greedily into her mouth, and down her gullet.
She took long strides to the mirror, and was pleased with what she saw.
An orange mare with a hat and freckles, and fur that shone like the sun.
She smiled a wicked and terrible smile.
For a moment, her eyes flashed a brighter green.