Far Apart

by Inky Scrolls

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Nurse Redheart, Bright Mac, Slice of Life, Pear Butter, Sad
Length: 3049

I've spent twelve years as a nurse, now. Twelve years... so many memories, so many regrets. And yet one night, a decade ago, I remember with particular sorrow.

I've spent twelve years as a nurse, now. Nurse Redheart, helping the ailing ponies of Ponyville, caring for them all. Twelve years! So many memories, so many regrets. And yet one night, a decade ago, I remember with particular sorrow - for on that one, terrible night, I failed...

Published 2017-06-27 13:30:07 UTC
Last updated 2017-06-27 13:30:07 UTC

The Darkest Day

Dear Diary,

I am sure you know what today means to me. I am sure you know why I remember this day with regret, and why today more than any other day I feel the sadness in my heart. For today is the tenth anniversary of my first failure, the first time I didn’t save a pony in my care, the first time a pony died.

Today marks a whole decade since the untimely death of both Bright Mac and his loving, beautiful wife Pear Butter.

I remember it as though it were yesterday. I, a young nurse, still fresh out of training barely two years before. Still full of the zest for life and of zeal for my work. Twenty-three and single, with a career I enjoyed and colleagues who appreciated me. A happy mare with a pleasant life.

Not that my work wasn’t hard - far from it. Long hours at the hospital with paperwork on top of that - and I lived out of town back then, so I had to travel there and back every morning and night. But I loved my work. I couldn’t think of what I’d rather do, than spend my time caring for those less fortunate than myself, nurturing them back to health. I had found my vocation.

I had been living here for three years by that point, having trained largely in Manechester before being stationed in Ponyville. I soon made friends, among them being the Apple family. The love Bright Mac and Pear Butter - or 'Buttercup' as everypony called her - had for each other brightened my darkest days and helped me through my own health issues. Depression was never far from my door, but spending time with the Apples gave me the strength to see the hard times through.

Until one day. One terrible, awful day, which gives me nightmares and haunts my waking thoughts even now, all these years later. I've matured in the last decade, grown wiser, shrewder. I don't allow myself the same affection for ponies that I once had, lest I lose them, too.

I remember that it was raining, heavily. The harvest season was upon us and the farmers of the area were worried that their crops might be damaged by the storm. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed, the wind beat against the windows of Ponyville's general infirmary. I had finished my shift at six o'clock as usual, and was trying desperately to make my way home, slipping on roads slick with mud and battling against the ferocious gale.

I was passing the last field before my own little cottage when I heard a sharp crack - and the shout of stallion in anguish. I looked around, vainly attempting to discover the source of the commotion, but the thick clouds had brought the night in early, and I could see little. Shielding my eyes against the driving rain I saw, in the field to my right, the roots of a great tree, torn up and tossed down by the fierce power of the storm. As I looked I heard again that distressed cry and, without a thought for my own safety, I clambered over the fence and galloped to the fallen tree.

It was an apple tree. I called out fearfully as I drew near, afraid of what I might find. "Hello!" I cried. "Is anypony there?"

No reply came, and I breathed out in relief. As I turned to trot away, however, something brown and sodden with rain was blown against my shins. I glanced down, surprised - and recognised, to my horror, the hat usually worn by my friend Bright Mac. I picked it up, and turned back towards the tree. I called out again, hoping against hope - but I knew what I would find. "Bright Mac? Are you there?"

Just as before there was no reply. With my head bowed low against the wind I picked my way carefully right up to the tree, with cautious glances at those other apple trees nearby which were still standing. I looked - and I saw. I saw what I had been most afraid of, of which no amount of warning could have prepared me. The body of Bright Mac, bloody and torn, crushed beneath the terrible weight of the sixty-foot tree.

I fought my way through the branches and crouched down beside him. His eyes were open and staring, and I think I knew then that he was dead. But I took his pulse in vain hope, trying several times before finally admitting defeat. Then I think I closed his eyes to shield them against the rain...

I looked up, saw the trees surrounding me. I felt trapped, threatened by the storm which continued to rage around me. I shouted for help, but the wind whisked my words away in a second. I looked back at the mangled body of one for whom I had felt real affection, and the tears rose to my eyes. But I blinked them away determinedly and, breathing deeply, collected myself together.

Keeping hold of Bright Mac's hat I disentangled myself from the torn-down apple tree, ran back to the road, leapt over the fence, and galloped back into Ponyville. I arrived at the hospital within only a few minutes, the force of the wind now aiding rather than slowing me.

Dripping with rain I entered the foyer, and shouted to the receptionist to "get help now!". Then I cantered on, almost blindly in my frantic state, until I found the door of Ponyville's most pre-eminent doctor: Doctor Traction, MD, DScPT, FRCPSE. Without knocking I forced the door open and explained the emergency to the highly bewildered stallion within.

The next hour or so are mere hazy half-memories. I think my anxiety got the better of me at that point. But I do remember taking a medical team to where Bright Mac lay, and seeing him being carried, covered by a sodden sheet, on a stretcher into the hospital's mortuary ward. As the door closed behind him, I had a sudden realisation, and the world swam around me: I would never see him again. Never again would I call in to the Apple farm on a sunny summer's day and be met by the smiles of the happiest family I had ever known. Never again would Bright Mac call in for cough medicine for Little Mac or Applejack. And never would Buttercup see the face of her husband again...

Doctor Traction was in the washroom, scouring the swiftly-drying blood from his hooves. He looked at me gently, and I at him. A question came unbidden to my mind, and I stammered: "D-does B-b-buttercup...?"

The doctor shook his greying head. "No, Buttercup and the other Apples have not yet been told. I know they are particular friends of yours; would you prefer to tell them? Or would you rather somepony else did?"

My first instinct was to cower away from such an awful responsibility, to delegate it to some other unfortunate pony. But then I thought of their reactions... of Buttercup, having to live the rest of her life without her soulmate. Of Granny Smith, who had lost her only son. Of Little Mac and Applejack, with no time to mourn their loss without having to assist in carrying out their father's work on the farm. And of the poor, unborn foal, so near to birth, who would grow up now without ever even having known their father. How could I leave them to find out, to learn the wretched truth, from anypony who didn't know them as well as I did?

I blinked away the tears rolling down my face and, taking a deep breath, nodded. "It's alright, doctor. I'll tell them."

He closed his eyes briefly in understanding, and I steeled myself for the task I must now undertake.

* * *

The rain had slowed now to a light drizzle, and the wind was at last abating. Never had the path to the Apple's farm felt so long and yet seemed far too short. After what felt like an eternity but too quickly for me to think, I arrived at their door. I still clutched Bright Mac's hat, holding onto it almost as a shield against the oncoming pain. I stood on the doorstep for a full minute, slowing my breathing and deciding what to say. Eventually, as I knew I must, I summoned my courage and knocked, three times.

I heard a voice from within and recognised Buttercup asking either AJ or Little Mac to come to the door. After a few moments there came the sound of a bolt being drawn back, and Applejack stood on the threshold, peering up at me with inquisitive, foalish eyes. Seeing who I was, she smiled warmly. "Howdy Miss Redheart! How are you?"

Trying to return her smile I asked: "I need to speak your mother. Can I come in for a moment, please?"

With the unerring instinct of a foal, I could tell that Applejack sensed something was wrong. "Of course, please step this way... I'll go get Ma."

She rushed off to the kitchen-diningroom, and I followed her more slowly. Buttercup called out: "Do come in, sugarcube! We're just in the kitchen." As I entered the room she smiled at me from where she sat in a comfortable chair. "Please excuse my not getting up, carrying this little 'un" - she pointed lovingly towards her bump - "around everywhere does tire me out rather! What can I do you for?"

Seeing the happy family scene before me, and the plate on the table, food still untouched, evidently set for Bright Mac, I struggled to find the ability to speak. Eventually I managed to say: "Buttercup, I need to speak to you and Granny Smith... alone."

Buttercup peered at me warily. "Anything you can say to me you can say to Little Mac and Applejack too. But we should wait for Bright Mac, he'll be back in a moment. He's just checking on the orchard."

Granny Smith, who up till now hadn't spoken, piped up from her rocking chair by the fire. "What have you got there, dearie? Holdin' somethin', aintcha?"

Without knowing how I managed it, I broke the awful, horrible news to them. "I don't think... I'm afraid that Bright Mac won't be coming back."

Buttercup went white as a sheet. "What do you mean, won't be coming back? He's alright, isn't he? Isn't he?"

Staring into her eyes I slowly laid Bright Mac's hat on the table. "I'm so, so sorry. It was a tree, and the storm, and - there was nothing I could do... nothing."

Granny Smith closed her eyes and began rocking her chair gently back and forth. Little Mac and AJ gazed up at me with round, scared eyes, and Buttercup began pleading desperately. "What do you mean? Tell me, what do you mean? He's fine, isn't he? He is, isn't he? He'll be coming back any moment now... won't he?"

Biting my lip to keep back the tears I gravely shook my head. "I'm so... I'm so sorry, all of you. I don't - I can't..."

Buttercup sat in silence, staring at the floor. Then she whipped her head round to glare at me. "What are you telling me? Say it! Tell me the truth, I demand you tell me the truth!"

With the tears beginning to well at my eyelids I told her, directly and to the point. "Bright Mac is not- he's, he... He is dead, Buttercup. He isn't coming home."

"No! No, I don't believe you! You're lying to me, y- argh!" Buttercup gave a scream of anguish and pain, and her foals stared at her in fear. "Aah, no! Not now, not- my foal is coming!"

I shook my head in confusion, uncomprehendingly. The foal could not be coming, surely, not now? It wasn't due for another month! But the continued cries of pain from Buttercup convinced me. The shock, the terrifying realisation of loss and despair must have sent her into labour early. Snapping back into 'nurse mode' I sent Little Mac and Applejack to get help from the hospital, and ordered Granny Smith to find the things I needed to aid my friend in giving birth.

The next few hours are the blackest memories I have. The terror on Buttercup's face as she struggled to cope with both the loss of her husband and the stress of birth will stay with me for ever. The foals came back half an hour later with Doctor Sweetpea, who helped me and Granny Smith with Buttercup. At first we were hopeful of a seamless birth, but as the hours ticked by Buttercup slowly but steadily grew weaker.

As midnight passed with the chiming of the hallway clock, she turned wearily towards me. Her breath coming in rasps and with tears streaming down her kindly, caring face, she whispered hoarsely: "Where is Little Mac?"

Little Mac, who had been sitting worriedly on the stairs with Applejack, the two of them holding each other close for comfort, trotted silently into the kitchen, with AJ coming along slowly behind. The colt, little more than a foal, knelt by his mother's side and placed a hoof calmly on her shoulder. "I'm here, Ma."

Buttercup gave a sudden twinge of pain, but was too tired to cry out. As it passed she spoke softly to her eldest foal. "You're the stallion of the house now, Little Mac. You're Big Mac now, aren't you? You've got to look after AJ for me, and do what Granny Smith says, okay?"

Big Mac shook his head, fighting against what his mother was saying. "No, Ma, you're not going anywhere. You're staying here, with us. You'll look after us, won't you? We'll be here with you, Ma, always. We'll be strong, we'll be with you... won't we?"

Buttercup, her eyes closed, gave a sudden last, desperate push. Doctor Sweetpea and I, with Applejack looking on, helped the newborn filly into the world. She was yellow, with a matted but clearly red mane, just like her father. She didn't cry or scream, as most newborns do. We swaddled her in a blanket and huddled her close to Buttercup's chest. With the last of her bereaved strength, Buttercup smiled down at her third foal. "Applebloom", she whispered. "Her name is Applebloom, because she is a flower of light in the darkest of days."

Little Applebloom began whimpering, taking the first of many breaths, just as her mother was taking her last. I gathered Big Mac and Applejack to her, and Granny Smith sat down on the floor to hold her daughter-in-law's head in her lap. Buttercup, too weak even to wipe the tears and sweat from her eyes, blinked round at us. She breathed shallowly, hollowly, and seemed to be trying to speak. Then her eyes closed for the last time, her limbs and neck relaxed, and she was gone.

* * *

Ten years, it has been, since that day. Ten years, and so many things have changed. Big Mac took over the running of the farm, becoming taciturn and withdrawn. Only recently, with the encouragement of his marefriend Sugar Belle, has he begun to open up again. Applejack helped him more and more as she matured into marehood, and has proven herself as a saviour of Equestria on more than one occasion. Granny Smith receded from the world for over a year, hiding away from all but her family, grieving in solitude, before slowly returning to some semblance of normality. Applebloom, who never knew her father and spent but a few precious seconds with her mother, is nonetheless aware of what she lost, and she shares the grief her siblings feel. Her birthday is not a time for celebration for the Apple family.

Bright Mac and Buttercup were buried together beneath the trees they had planted on their wedding day, trees whose intertwining branches will ensure they are never blown down. They are at peace now, the Apple and the Pear, together forever in death, as they were in life. I have never known a couple with so strong a love as they had for each other, and I do not know how Buttercup could have lived without her beloved husband.

As for me... I lost my two best friends with a few hours of each other. I have never really recovered, though I try not to show it. Every night I am haunted by nightmares, by dreams in which everything is fine, in which they both lived. But then I wake up again, am forced to remember what really happened, to remember that I was not good enough. I was too slow to save Bright Mac, and maybe if I had chosen my words differently, broken the news to her more gently, Buttercup would not have gone into early labour and would have survived... if, if, if! A series of ifs and maybes, of wondering what could have happened had I acted differently.

I shall never know how things may have panned out. I shall never know if Buttercup could have lived. I shall never know if my nursing was to blame, whether her death was the fault of my failure. I shall never know, I shall never forget, and I shall never forgive myself.

Such is the life of a nurse. Such is the risk we in the medical profession all take, that one day we may fail, that one day our knowledge may not be enough. We do our best, but we cannot save everypony. I tell myself this every day, wishing that it was not so. But it is, and two of Equestria's brightest stars have winked out for ever.

Rest in peace, Bright Mac. Rest in peace, Buttercup. You are no longer far apart.

Author's Note

I doubt we shall ever have a canonical answer to what happened to Bright Mac and Pear Butter. But in honour of what are, to me, the most tragic characters of MLP, and of my new favourite episode, I felt that their story should be told.

All comments, suggestions and constructive criticisms are welcome.