Author's Note

This was written for PhealGud.
This one is also a bit dark, but not nearly as dark as the last one.
Trigger warning for: injuries, weight gain, medical issues

Applejack

It had been a stupid, stupid accident, and Applejack had been paying the price for months.

Big Mac had warned her to be careful when bucking at that old, scraggly tree. The only reason they hadn’t gotten rid of it was because their parents had planted it.

Damned Apple sense of sentimentality.

She’d been chatting with Big Mac, who was several meters away putting full apple buckets in the wagon. She was applebucking, and had forgotten completely about the fragility of the tree. She’d bucked too hard, and in the resulting chaos of falling tree limbs and falling tree, she’d gotten pinned.

Her right hind leg had been crushed, and it had only been because of Big Mac’s strength and speed that the doctors had been able to save the leg at all. Using magic and metal to pin everything in place once the initial swelling had eased up.

So now all that she had to do was wait...and heal.

Which meant she was bedridden. Because of how they’d managed to save her leg, the cast held her leg straight out. There was no bending it so she could hobble around. She’d tried to move around, but the pain had been too much.

So she was stuck. Unable to move too much, made bleary and sleepy from the pain meds.

But she still had the stomach of a working farm mare, used to doing hard work. And Granny was keen on making her ‘home remedies’ like soups, and casseroles and...well.

Applejack didn’t like to think that she was gaining weight, but in truth she was. Quite a bit over the last few weeks, but most of it had settled in her stomach. Thank goodness, because she could cover up with her blankets.

Still, Applejack was determined not to let a measly five or ten pounds get in the way of rehabilitation or anything when the time came. She was certain she’d be able to work off any excess weight when she went through rehabilitation or at worst case, when she finally got back to work on the farm.

Things would work out. They had to. For herself and her family.

(LINE BREAK)

Apple Bloom hated the hospital. It smelled funny, and seeing so many sick and injured ponies in one place made her feel uncomfortable. But she’d come here for Applejack, her saddlebags fit to bursting because of the treats Pinkie Pie had given her.

Apple Bloom had been tempted to throw out the treats, but Pinkie had told Applejack to expect them and the little filly didn’t want to get in trouble.

Applejack had been in the hospital for nearly six months now, mostly due to complications because of her leg. Thankfully, things seemed much better now and there was talk of having Applejack home by the end of next week if things went well.

Apple Bloom rounded the corner, entering Applejack’s room cautiously. Like she wasn’t sure what she’d find.

Applejack, bed-bound for most of the last six months, had piled on the pounds. Stress eating as harvest time drew near but she’d been unable to do anything. Thankfully, because of their friends, they’d gotten the complete crop in. Even the Zap Apples!

Even when things calmed down, Applejack had continued eating. And it showed, even though she’d been doing rehabilitation for a few weeks now. Any hope that her big sister would lose the weight was starting to dwindle, but Apple Bloom wasn’t going to say anything.

Applejack had forgone her usual blankets, reading the latest issue of Apple Monthly. Clearly she was expecting company, and hadn’t been to physical therapy today. If she had been, she’d be coated in sweat and in a lot of pain. Right now, she looked happy and carefree.

Well, about as happy and carefree as somepony who’d gained well over 100 pounds in six months could, anyway.

She was belly heavy, the large orb oozing onto her lap and covering some her her hind legs. If Apple Bloom didn’t know better, she might think her sister pregnant. But that wasn’t the case. The rest of Applejack’s body wasn’t spared from the weight gain, fat spreading fairly evenly across the rest of her body.

Applejack looked up from her magazine, beaming at Apple Bloom as Apple Bloom approached the bed, “Hey, sis! Nice to see you! You got the goods?”

Apple Bloom nodded, wisely biting her tongue. She unloaded her saddlebags onto the bedside tray. Candy, some pastries, and a couple bottles of cider..

Applejack smiled wider, her chubby cheeks dimpling and her second chin fully on display. “Thanks sis, you’re a lifesaver. Been craving me some cider for the last week!”

“I know,” Apple Bloom said, sitting on chair at Applejack’s bedside, “Glad I could help.”

Applejack reached over to ruffle Apple Bloom’s forelock, “Love you sis. And don’t worry, soon I’ll be home and we can do some stuff together. Might not be able to enter the Sisterhooves Social this year, but you can help me get ready for next year.”

Apple Bloom perked up a little at that, “Really?”

“If I ever want my leg to get back to normal, really,” Applejack smiled.

Apple Bloom returned the smile, and launched into an explanation of her day. Maybe things weren’t completely hopeless.

(LINE BREAK)

Things were hopeless, Applejack decided. She popped the last pastry into her mouth, chewing mechanically. Not really tasting the sugary delight, but needing to do something.

Swallowing it down with a slug of cider, Applejack couldn’t help but stare down at her body with equal senses of horror and disgust. Horror, because part of her brain couldn’t comprehend that this was her, and disgust because she could see what she was turning into.

A lazy, useless lump of pony who would be unable to do anything for herself.

Applejack’s leg, weakened by the breaking and infections that had occurred, was made worse by her extra weight. It just couldn’t deal with her bulk for long periods of time, and this was affecting everything else in her body. Her hips, her spine, her other legs.

Her body had once been a testament to hard work and discipline. Now it was a testament to gluttony and laziness.

No matter how much she sweated, cursed, and worked in physical therapy, none of it seemed to matter. Her leg was as broken as her self-esteem.

Maybe it would have been better to just lose the leg entirely...Twilight or Doctor Whooves or someone was bound to be able to make some replacement that would have worked well enough...Or they could have found some way for her to ram a wheelchair into the trees instead of bucking…

When dinner came, Applejack ate that too. And desert, and asked or seconds.

The nurse’s eyes held a warning in their stare, but Applejack didn’t care. She just wanted to eat the pain away.

(LINE BREAK)

Applejack was home, which Big Mac liked. He’d missed his sister a lot over the last half a year, even though he’d seen her most days.

Things weren’t the same though, and that was taking some time to get used to.

Applejack’s leg was...well..it wasn’t good. She could walk, but not for very long and not without a lot of pain. The leg was covered in scars that showed even through her fur, and the limb wasn’t even gaining weight the same way her other legs were.

She was still dependent on her pain pills. Which made her fuzzy and hungry and sleepy. All not a very good combination, because she kept gaining. The more weight she gained, the more her leg hurt. It was a vicious cycle.

Right now, Applejack was standing over the stove, making flapjacks for the family’s breakfast for dinner tradition. But she was easily making double of that they usually made, and had made Apple Bloom go out and get more accoutrements even though they had praline, caramel sauce, butter, and maple syrup.

“AJ?” Big Mac said slowly, as he got to work setting the table. He wasn’t a big talked, had never really been one. But he was more comfortable chatting with his family than he was with just about anypony else.

“Yeah?” Applejack’s voice was muffled because she was flipping the last flapjack. She’d used up all the batter she’d made. Big Mac didn’t like the looks of how shaky her bad leg was, but he knew her and knew it was probably best to keep his mouth shut on the matter.

“You sure did make a lot of flapjacks,” he said, “and you sent Apple Bloom off to get-”

“Whipped cream, chocolate, and some more pear jam,” Applejack replied evenly, “Want to use a little of all three in some baking tomorrow anyhow.”

“Yeah, that,” Big Mac said, setting the jug of water they kept in the fridge so it stayed cold on the table so everypony could serve themselves. “Um, AJ, I know you don’t like talking about it, but you really should try to lose some weight-”

“I’m fine!” Applejack yelled, half-turning to glare at her brother. She finished cooking the final flapjack and slid it onto the plate with the others. Bringing the plate over, Big Mac was reminded of how poorly she was doing.

Her gait was stiff and sore, the bad leg reluctant to bend as she waddled toward the table and set the plate down. Her stomach was still a large orb, hanging past her knees and making her gait even more awkward because it pressed into her legs even when it wasn’t stuffed.
Applejack, with the exception of her stomach, had gained fairly evenly everywhere else. Her back was marred with rolls, her barrel wide, her plot and flanks hanging over her hocks. She had a second chin, with a third firmly on the way. Her neck was still a neck, but it was clear to see that it would likely become one large roll should she continue to gain.

“AJ-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Big Mac!” Applejack snapped, easing her girth onto a groaning kitchen chair.

Big Mac wisely shut up, calling Apple Bloom and Granny in for dinner.

Dinner was quiet, with the exception of Applejack noisily eating the majority of the flapjacks she’d made.

(LINE BREAK)

The sleep apnea was something Applejack hadn’t been too happy to discover, but she had been more energetic after getting the BiPAP machine and sleeping through the night. She’d done a little bit of the exercise prescribed, but after months of lazing around in a depression, she just couldn’t do it.

It was sad, but Applejack was too proud to say anything. So she just...continued to exist. Continued gorging herself, continued doing what little bits of work she could.

Even when her weight was such a problem that she could hardly walk down the hall to get to the bathroom. Even when she was put on oxygen full time.

Rainbow had intervened, but there was only so much exercise she could force Applejack to do.

She did build some muscle from Rainbow’s forced exercise, but with as heavy as she was her leg simply wouldn’t hold. It was a truly vicious cycle, one that tired her out and limited her movement.

Rainbow came in early one morning, partially to help Big Mac run the farm, and partially to come help Applejack.

Applejack was still in bed, not too much of a surprise these days, and she was easily 500 pounds. Her stomach spread across her hind legs, sagging over her thick thighs to touch the mattress. She was bereft of the full oxygen mask, only wearing the normal cannula in her nose.

“Well, Applejack!” Rainbow yelled, “I hope you’re ready for the workout of your life!”

Applejack groaned, but nodded. She may not like it, but these workout sessions were becoming one of the few things in her life that brought her joy and comfort while she was trapped in a fleshy prison of her own making.