"P-Please don't!" a feminine voice cried. It was familiar to Dylan. His mother had burnt burnt the food again. A slap could clearly be heard from the kitchen.

"I work hard all day long and what do I come home to?!" His father's voice sounded angry. Another slap could be heard.

"I-I'm sorry! I'll get it right next time! Wait! Please do--" his mother's pleas were cut off by the shattering sound of glass hitting a hard surface. Dylan felt cowardly, hiding in his room. The last time he had tried to help his mother he was beaten with the butt of his father's rifle.

"You're not goin' anywhere! Get back up! I said get 'get back up!'" Pa was always so angry. A loud crashing noise echoed, and then silence fell upon the house. After several minutes, footsteps could be heard, getting louder and louder. Pa was walking towards Dylan's room. The door opened and...

Dylan jolted awake, panting heavily. It was only a dream. He had been at Sweet Apple Acres for two weeks now, waiting for his leg to heal. He had told the Apple family about the storm, and how the tree fell on him, but things still didn't add up. How did he end up in the orchard? It was unsettling, and it concerned him. Princess Celestia had responded to Twilight's letter, telling them all that she would speak with some wizard named Starswirl about the situation.

He felt grateful to Applejack for letting him stay until he got better, but... he felt guilty for not be able to do anything for her. He had made up his mind. He was going to work for Applejack until he felt that he had paid her back for her kindness. He turned his head to look out the window. It was still nighttime. He could tell her in the morning.

In the morning

"Are you sure, sugarcube?" Applejack questioned. The entire Apple family was at the table for breakfast, and Dylan felt it was the right moment.

"Yes, ma'am," confirmed Dylan, "I feel bad for troubling you. I wanna help y'all. If'n that's ok..."

"Well, I could use some help with the apple harvest this month. Is yer leg feelin' better?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. It feels much better. I haven't felt any pain for the last three days, actually." he stated, "Do you think I can take the cast off yet?"

"Well," Applejack started, "Twilight said it would be around a week and a half until it fully healed. I reckon it's time we take that sucker off!"

"Eyup," chimed in Big Mac.

"And Dylan, you don't have to call me 'ma'am.'" said Applejack.

"Yes, ma-- I mean... um, Applejack." stuttered Dylan. He wasn't used to being casual around folks. It was something taught to him by his mother. He would either call her "mama" or "ma'am" when she was around. The only time he would call her "mama" though was if he was scared at the time. Dylan continued eating his breakfast without another word.

After breakfast, the cast was removed, and Dylan began to walk once more. In fact, he ran around the kitchen table, excited to have his leg healed.

"Yer as healthy as a horse!" Applejack jokingly said.

"I feel healthy!~" Dylan replied. He felt like he could run for miles. "That magic stuff sure does wonders!" He ran outside and saw the orchard for the first time. Everything looked so full of color, and all the trees were healthy and strong. "It's... it's beautiful!" he exclaimed. His home was nothing compared to this place. His eyes welled up with tears as he examined the world around him. "This is... it's just so amazin'!"

Applejack trotted up from behind and smiled. She'd never seen him so happy. "Well, ya ready to get started?"

"Huh?" Dylan was freed of his trance and suddenly remembered, "Oh! Yes, ma-- I mean, Applejack!"

And so Dylan worked. He moved crates, loaded up hay, fixed a broken fence, and even learned how to give the pigs a bath. He ended up getting muddy himself and had to be hosed down before being allowed inside. Granny Smith was cross with him when she saw him covered in mud.

"We may live on a farm, but it don't mean we live in a barn!" she scolded.

After being washed off, he was allowed to come in for lunch, and then it was back to work. He felt like he had a purpose for the first time in his life. He worked as hard as he could, making sure he didn't a single chore unfinished. He even helped Big Mac paint the fence. It was bliss for him, to keep him mind busy and free of his father. It felt wonderful for him to be able to work without fearing a deadline from his pa. When he was with his pa, Dylan had to get everything done by the end of the day, or he would be beaten by his father's rifle. Applejack told Dylan he could take his time as long as it got done.

"Hey, Big Mac?" Dylan started as he helped to slap another coat of white paint on the fence."

"Eyup?" Big Mac answered.

"Thanks... for letting me help you. I really needed this."

Big Mac stopped for a moment before responding with another "Eyup."

"You don't talk much, do you?" Dylan asked.

"Nope," confirmed Big Mac as he dipped his brush into a paint can.

Everything was going right for Dylan. He felt like he belonged there, like it was fate for him to end up in Sweet Apple Acres. Of course, he couldn't tell Big Mac that. Nor could he tell Applejack. It would seem silly. He couldn't just intrude on their lives. He had to leave eventually... But for now, nothing could go wrong.

...Or could it?

Dreamscape

"Such violence," a voice whispered, "Such hatred. I love it..." Set within the land of dreams was a creature of pure darkness. It had nearly escaped in its last attempt. It would not fail this time... not with the new succulent dream that had emerged last night.

Author's Note

I really feel that I rushed this one. I'm so sorry if it looks rushed. I just felt some odd inspiration and wanted to make this as soon as possible. I guess I'm just a little overexcited.