One Fell Out of the Apple Tree

Chapters

Birthday
Granny
Hayride
Trouble
Humpty Dumpty

Birthday

“Rise n’ shine,” the curtains were drawn back causing the early morning sun to leak through like spilled milk in a drain. Not a cloud was in the sky, not a chance of rain. A blanket of blue hung from the sky like a clothesline, so Apple Bloom groaned, and she hid her head underneath her own blanket. The thought to say ‘Five more minutes,’ dawned on her, but in sleep most words came out as mumbles.

Hoof steps circled around the bed. They had that distinctive sound of steel on hollow wood. A thump thump thump, and then they stopped. Applejack got close, very close to where her nostrils flared and blew a feather from her pillow. Her sister’s snout dug to where her head lay and she nuzzled into her. “C’mon, birthday filly. Time ta start the day,”

Apple Bloom propped an eye open. What she saw was the honey fur of her one true guardian—she might as well be, since Granny Smith was getting too old to really know her left from right, and Big Mac stuck to the farm work most times. He was fun, and often they’d interact, joke, or play, but he felt like the big brother. He was the big brother.

Applejack, on the other hoof, was a mother, and she was in every sense of the word. From the way she nurtured her right down to the discipline.

“Already mornin’? I feel like I just went to sleep,” The filly sat up, yawned, then stretched her forelegs similar to a cat after a long nap. “But you can’t just say ‘happy birthday’, you gotta sing it,” She smiled, expecting her sister to break out in song.

“Hold yer horses, now. We gonna have ta save that for the festivities,” Applejack gathered her saddlebag, and as she did she inspected the sheets of paper on the ground. It was supposed to be homework and Apple Bloom couldn’t remember if she completed hers or not. After a few seconds of silent staring Applejack placed the sheets in the bag. “Ask that teacher of yours about question 12. That don’t seem like the right answer, but I ain’t the best at arithmetic,”

Apple Bloom nodded as she climbed out of bed then got to work making it.

“Education is important,” the saddlebag was placed on the knick knack chair. The thing needed to be cleared of all the random scarfs, hats, beads, socks, and other miscellaneous articles of clothing. It made for a good hiding spot. Probably the best in the house, and something that good could not be removed. Apple Bloom was holding her breath anticipating Applejack mentioning the chair again like every morning, but she didn’t. Instead she said, “Big Mac is making pancakes,” and Apple Bloom absolutely lit up. “Go on now, get ready before he finishes up,”

Apple Bloom dashed past her sister and all the way to the bathroom door. The filly wasted no time going through her usual morning routine; showering, brushing her fur and teeth, styling her mane, and placing a pink bow on top like a Hearth's Warming ornament. With a quick nod in the mirror, she was ready to take on the day. Before Apple Bloom could leave the bathroom, though, she caught a glimpse of her still blank flank. It always bothered her, but the thought of going through another birthday without her cutie mark only made her feel like more of a foal. Ten years old and still unaware of her special talent.

One could only wonder if it took this long for the average pony.

When Apple Bloom finally opened the door she could hear the clatter of utensils and light chatter among her siblings. The smell of freshly baked pancakes traveled upstairs and that same smile she wore before had returned. Apple Bloom was going to break out into a gleeful gallop when she remembered her grandmother was likely still asleep. To wake her would be inconsiderate, as Applejack would say. The thought of disturbing Granny Smith’s much needed rest had Apple Bloom’s engines chugging to a stop. She took in a breath and slowly passed her shut door, but as she got closer she noticed it was cracked open just a bit. Far enough to look into.

Boxes. She saw boxes everywhere. A few of Granny Smith’s quilts have been removed from their usual place in the wall, along with the glass sculptures of foal angels she often kept on a shelf above her bed. Her room looked bare beyond the empty furniture and the breathing body beneath the covers. Apple Bloom raised a hoof to knock—

“Come n’ ge’ it!” Her sister called in reference to breakfast. “It’s gon get cold, Apple Bloom!”

Big Mac made the best apple cinnamon pancakes, hoofs down. Nopony even came close to duplicating that sweet, mouthwatering, taste. Not even Pinky Pie. It was a shame he only made it on special occasions, but when he did Apple Bloom had a habit of scoffing it down as quickly as she could without choking and causing Applejack to have a heart attack. Gooey syrup would drip from her furry chin and Big Mac would raise a brow. He then stuffed his face too almost in competition, and Apple Bloom would laugh at his inflated cheeks.

“Didn’t know I was livin’ with a buncha wild horses,” Applejack shook her head and finished her meal. A flick of the tail later, and the mare gathered all the dishes from the table. When she turned her back to wash up, Big Mac would wink at the filly, and Apple Bloom would giggle. “Y’all best get goin’. And don’tcha worry about your chores today, Ay Bee, we already done em,”

Apple Bloom hadn’t noticed she woke up so late until she looked at the roaster clock on the wall. It’s beak was on the 7, and it’s left leg was on the 3. To get out of work for a day was definitely a birthday treat, but to potentially be late for school could be a nightmare.

It wasn’t shortly after that she washed her hooves, grabbed her saddlebag, and left for school. Big Mac was loading up his cart with a few barrels of apples. Apple Bloom said a quick goodbye, but he waved her over. “How about ah ride?” He asked, and he stood over her, as he always did, when he reached down to get another barrel.

Big Mac was a pillar of a pony. With years of hard manual labor his body was ripe with muscle, behemoth height, and the power of two draft horses. He was the biggest stallion in Ponyville, but she knew him as a harmless teddy bear. As gentle to the touch as he was, one wouldn’t think his hind legs alone could topple an apple tree with just one buck.

“Yes please!” Apple Bloom said as she had to strain her neck to look up at his rosy face. The sun hid behind his mane making it hard to see his warm smile, but creating a halo of sorts. In her heart she felt nothing but deep love for him.

“Up n’ atit,'' Big Mac craned his neck down to allow her to climb up. She saddled around his flowing mane and held on tight as he lifted her from the distancing ground and towards the wooden cart. Apple Bloom still held on. “Dis here’s yer stop,” the stallion joked.

“I think I like it up here,” Apple Bloom slid down to his back and at first clung on like a koala before using her forelegs to push her upper body to sit upright.

“As you wish, yer highness,” a bow later and he proceeded to finish loading up before the two went on their way.

The sound the wooden wheels made against the gravel made it easy to slip into thought. Apple Bloom thought about the apples on the trees they passed, she thought about the warmth beneath her and how she could feel each muscle in her brother’s back and shoulders working in tandem like the innards of a machine. She thought about her grandmother and that invoked this feeling of dread about the unknown. And as if Big Mac could read her mind, he asked, “what’s bouncin’ around that head of yours?” As he spoke she could feel the vibrations traveling from his larynx all the way up her bones. It was like he was a little pony with a big voice inside of her.

Apple Bloom blew a strand of hair from her face. What she saw in that bedroom felt like something she wasn’t supposed to see, yet there was a trust she felt towards him, like some sort of intuition that he wouldn’t get mad if she brought it up. So she asked, “Is Granny Smith dying?” Then she waited.

There was a pause. Big Mac didn’t stop trotting along the path, but he did hold in a breath, and she could feel his lungs expand below her. Death wasn’t a thing the filly completely understood. She knew a pony would pass and they’d be gone for good. She knew that sometimes it was slow, and sometimes it was painful. She just didn’t think it could happen to anypony so close to her, especially such a strong mare like Granny Smith.

“Granny ain’t dying,” he assured her after a moment. “She jus’ needs help that we can’t give.”

Apple Bloom didn’t know what he meant by that, but she could tell he felt uncomfortable with the conversation, so she dropped it.

With the drop in mood and the sudden quiet, Big Mac raised his ears in attention. He looked back at her and smiled. “Hayride tonight?” It was so easy for him to read her. For an earth pony he had a sort of magic about him.

Apple Bloom nodded her head in excitement. To go on a midnight hayride through their apple orchard was an activity she always loved. The best time to do it was surrounded by a lot of friends and family and while the stars were out. She’d take it over anything in the world. Absolutely anything.

“Hayride it is, yet highness,” he said, and Apple Bloom did feel like a princess.

At the end of their orchard and near a crossroad were two fillies. One leaned against a scooter, while the other balanced a gift on her back. When they spotted the cart and the birthday foal on her trusted stead both fillies lit up and waved. “Apple Bloom!” The young unicorn yelled.

“Happy birthday!” The orange pegasus called after.

They were both shouting at the top of their lungs, yet Big Mac was only a few feet away. He came to a stop when he reached the pair. They got a bow of the head for a greeting. “Mornin’ ladies,” the stallion said, and the fillies giggled. It wasn’t but last weekend Apple Bloom was thrusted into a very awkward conversation pertaining to how cute Big Macintosh was. It was weird, but there was a colt or two that Apple Bloom would blush over, so she assumed it only felt that way because she was related to the stallion. To her he just looked like Big Mac, and there was no opinion about his appearance beyond it. To everypony else he must’ve been the hottest thing after Celestia’s sun.

The fillies said a collective, “Good morning!” before climbing onboard right next to the barrel of apples. When Big Mac was sure all passengers were securely in the cart, he continued his journey to the schoolhouse.

Apple Bloom turned around to face her friends and she still sat upwards. “Did you guys get your math homework done?” She asked, and Big Mac was going a little faster now, so as her puffy red hair bounced against her forehead she had to squeeze her hind legs a little tighter to make sure not to fall off. Her brother made a low grunt when she did, and Apple Bloom assumed she was hurting him, so she lessened up a bit.

Scootaloo leaned back as she rested her head against a barrel. “We had math homework?” An irritated groan escaped her. “Since when?”

“Since last Friday. It’s to prepare us for the quiz today, remember?” Sweetie belle reminded all matter-of-factly.

“Guess I’m failing another math quiz,” The small pegasus shrugged. School work was never on the forefront of Scootaloo’s priorities. She had dreams of racing on her mind. Despite that lack of academic ambition, it was that drive, that knowing exactly what she wanted out of life, that really made her somepony to envy.

Apple Bloom dug into her saddlebag and pulled out the math sheet. She looked at problem 12. “Don’t say that. We can work on it now before we get to school,” the offer was mainly so she could get help from Sweetie Belle, who no doubt did it all, and did it well. There was a stigma with asking for help, there shouldn’t be, but there was one. So she held her breath and prayed that her clever mask would work.

And the filly fell into her trap.

As quick as ever, Sweetie Belle retrieved her homework. “Good thinking! Now listen closely, Scootaloo, I will only go over it once,”

Apple Bloom tried to balance the box of apple fritters in her mouth. Big Mac surprised her with the treats after they arrived at school, and it was a treat to pass around to her classmates in celebration of her big day. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo went around clearing the way and opening doors so she wouldn’t trip, and as they did many young eyes watched the streaming hot treats with hungry eyes.

“Out of the way! The birthday filly has arrived!” Sweetie Belle yelled when they reached their classroom. Everypony turned to look at her and the stack of fritters.

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon only gave a glance before flicking their manes over their shoulders. Those two bullies could appear as unbothered as they wanted. It was obvious they knew they weren’t getting any. A smile crept along Apple Bloom’s lips when she passed them and they continued to ignore her.

Cheerilee, her home room teacher, approached with an equally large smile. “Happy birthday, Apple Bloom,” but the filly knew she only wanted first dibs on the fritters. No ma’am. Not today. “Here, let’s get these out of the way,” Her hoof tugged on the box and Apple Bloom pulled away.

“Ah actually wanna pass em out, if that’s okay with you?” Puffy hair swayed with the motion of her head. Her doe eyes blinked innocently at the mare.

Her teacher only giggled. “Very well. Let’s all take our seats, sing ‘Happy Birthday’, then enjoy our morning snack,” The foals all got to their desks and sat down patiently and quietly. They were so obedient. They were so willing to please in hopes of a treat. They had all eyes on her and Apple Bloom wondered if this was what power felt like? Her mind wandered to an alicorn on a throne commanding the masses, and she also wondered if that is something she’d want. It seemed like a lot of responsibility even if it did feel good for a little while. Maybe it was how a mother felt with her foal; the privilege to command yet the burden to protect. Apple Bloom wondered, as she passed around the fritters, what it would feel like to be a mother, and she decided she would think more about it when she was a little older.

Granny

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you…!” The crowd of ponies gathered around the table as they sang in sync with the tune. They smiled at the birthday filly. She sat on a throne of gifts. A party hat adorned her head like a King’s crown, and it replaced the usual pink bow. Smiling faces hovered over a pink cake made by the best bakery in Ponyville. The number ten was written in white frosting with ten candles scattered around it. Ten blows for the ten candles. Ten times her family and friends chanted how old she was. Ten balloons. Ten party kazoos whizzing all at once. Ten claps. Ten hoof stomps.

Ten. Ten. Ten.

To think she made it to a decade. Apple Bloom felt like a very big filly, in fact she was sure she grew by a few inches. The group cheered all for her, and she made note of the ponies she saw. Friends from school, mostly acquaintances. Family, she wasn’t all too familiar with, from Appleloosa came, but they tended to swarm Granny Smith like a hive to honey.

Pinky Pie jumped up, excited as ever, and she shouted the loudest “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Known to equine. Then Apple Bloom saw the rest of her sister’s friends. All of them came, even the new princess. From Fluttershy, who brought two gifts, to Rainbow Dash who brought none. Rarity brought Sweetie Belle who both were so very generous.

“A cat?” Applejack said as she cut into the cake. In a warm magical hold was a feline, a tom with midnight fur and a chubby, pouty, face. He was fat. He was yappy. Applejack shook her head. “Ah hate to be dat pony, but we can’t care for no more animals,” Sweetie Belle was then handed a slice of cake. The little filly gleefully took it.

“I assure you he is very low maintenance,” Rarity pleaded her case with her snout held high and her mane bouncing as always. She wore blue eyeshadow on her lids and soft pink lipstick. Apple Bloom found it pretty. Hell, she thought Rarity was one of the prettiest ponies in Ponyville.

Applejack rolled her eyes. She grumbled through a knife handle between her teeth, “With dat fur he ain’t no low maintenance nothin’,” the next slice of cake was passed out. A foal from class took the cake and scoffed it down in such succession that it was impressive. Then the next came, and the next, and they made a line—an impatient one. Everypony just wanted to return to the inflatable bouncy house. Applejack continued to cut regardless.

Rarity still held the cat with magic. It got a good neck scratch which triggered a series of low purs. “I promise. He only needs a healthy diet, and a good brush every day, and he’ll be a joy,” it sounded easy enough.

Apple Bloom got closer to get a better look, and she bounced on her hooves to try and reach the kitty. She too wanted to pet him, and scratch behind his ears, and just cuddle his cute face. “Ohh, AJ! I swear I’ll take care of him! I swear, I swear, I swear,” the puff on her hat swiveled about with each erratic hop. The kitty stared at her with his small, judgemental eyes, and she smiled at him, and his pout seemed to stretch further downwards.

“No can do, Apple Bloom. Now eat yer cake,”

The cold water ran over soft fur, drenching it like a soggy towel, and pricking the skin beneath. Chilly, but it felt nice. Sloppy, goopy, soap trickled down her hooves. She rubbed them together and just listened to the moist sound it made. Sticky strings attached one hoof to the next like a tightrope. It was white and messy akin to the frosting that told the world her age.

Syrup also came to mind. Syrup, and now she wanted to taste it. Apple Bloom wasn’t that silly though. A ten year old doesn’t put stuff in their mouth anymore.

“Hot water gets the dirt out,” a sudden baritone caused the filly to jump. In the mirror she saw the blonde mane of her brother as his snout gently pushed the bathroom door open. He jolted his head as if to shake off a wave of tingles.

“Hot water?” Apple Bloom questioned, but before she could reach for the tap, his larger form stood over her and blocked the ceiling light like a tree for shade. She was on her hind legs leaning over the porcelain sink, and he didn’t even have to raise his neck by a lot to still manage to tower over her to turn the knob. Big Mac pressed against her back, gently, so as not to crush her against the sink. The steady tempo of his heartbeat thumped against her, and the filly laughed. “Oh yeah! Ah heard about that. Hot water,” the hoof scrubbing continued until all the water washed the soap from her fur and down the drain. A mini whirlpool. Big Mac didn’t really move, but she figured he was making sure she was doing it right.

“All done!” Apple Bloom showed him her clean hooves, and he turned the water off. “Do you gotta use it?” The filly wiggled her way from between the sink and her brother. Her rump shook in the air as her hind legs did all the heavy lifting to get her free. The filly popped loose like a winded jack-in-box.

When she went searching for a towel she realized the bathroom door was shut. Right outside Apple Bloom could hear the voices and the music from the party. It was getting dark and soon everypony would have to head home. Maybe drying her hooves could wait until later. “I’ll get out so you can go too,”

Big Mac was so big his flank was pressed against the door. Apple Bloom pushed at his bottom to get him to turn out of the way. His tail playfully flicked her snout and she backed up to sneeze. The motion caused her to tumble on her behind. She sneezed again, and again. A hoof wiped at her runny nostrils. Her nose really wasn’t liking the smell of fresh barley on him.

Her brother chuckled before finally turning to face her. A smile, soft enough to be seen, but not wide enough to be considered a grin. His neck craned behind her. His teeth gripped her scruff and he helped her back to her feet. “Woah der, missy. I’ll get outta yer hair,” There was still a light playfulness in his tone.

It was quite the tease.

So Apple Bloom teased him right back by sticking out her fat pink tongue. She blew a raspberry at him, and her eyes were closed as she did it, so the sudden confusion on why everything went quiet caused a pause. One eyelid flipped open, and Apple Bloom was shocked to still see her brother still standing there. He was staring at her tongue, and now she too tried to stare at her tongue, going cross eyed in the process. “Wha?” The filly questioned with her mouth open wide. “Is somethin’ on me?”

Maybe there was. It would explain the odd look on his face, and his curious breathing. It sure did make Apple Bloom's head tilt. He was so quiet suddenly. So very quiet.

Then he reached for the door, opened it, and held it out for her. No longer was he so playful. “Best be on yer way,”

Apple Bloom raised a brow, but she knew not to question it. Big Mac can be a bunch of fun except, when he was serious. Then he could be scarier than Applejack.

Granny Smith rocked in her chair. She had this thing where she’d mumble to herself, and the mumbling would be a bunch of nonsense. At least to Apple Bloom. There were repeated phrases like ‘Woah there, fella, no need to rush a pie,” and there wouldn’t be anypony around sometimes. Sometimes she’d just say it just to say, and sometimes when Big Mac would help her, she’d absolutely refuse.

“Ah don’t know him,” She’d say to Applejack, and her big sister would help her on her feet. Other times she’d say, “Y’all can’t have just anypony around. You best watch dat one,” and Applejack would often get offended on Big Mac’s behalf.

“Dats yer grandson, Granny. Ain’t you recognize him?” And Applejack would help her into bed as Big Mac carried her walker, and Apple Bloom her basket of crochet. This was a daily routine. Nothing would change except the imaginary ponies she supposed her grandmother saw.

Their granny would repeat it again, “Y’all can’t have just anypony around. You best watch dat one,” and Apple Bloom would look at her brother. Big Mac was good at keeping his emotions a secret. If he was mad there was a good chance no pony would know unless he said something. So when she stared up at his face that night all she saw was the same neutral expression he always wore, but deep down the filly knew it hurt. Granny Smith’s brain never forgot about Apple Bloom, even on her worst days she motioned her over with mints and a smile, and asked how her dear grandfoal was doing.

Now her grandma rocked in her chair. It creaked on the porch. The night breeze blew the grey strands of her mane in her face, but her gaze was so far somewhere else that Granny Smith didn’t appear to notice. The party was weaning down and parents were gathering to pick up the school aged foals. Apple Bloom would wave goodbye from her spot near her grandmother’s feet. There wasn’t much mumbling now. Just very steady rocking.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo approached with painted faces, sticky candy in their fur, and grind bigger than Venus. Fake crystal beads dangled from their necks, and the unicorn wore a plastic tiara on her head. “Guess who I am?” She giggled.

“Lemme guess,” Apple Bloom played along by holding a hoof to her chin. This wasn’t a trick question, yet there was amusement in playing dumb. “A wannabe princess?”

“Close,” Her friend playfully trotted back and forth as if she were a show horse presenting her excellent dynamism. Her rump wiggled coltishly and it garnered more giggles from her friends.

Scootaloo decided to join in, “I know what you are,” and she held her hoof to her mouth to hold back a series of laughter. “You’re a..” another chuckle. “…a..” and yet another. “You’re a bitch.” And it was said so loudly too. Everypony knew you were supposed to whisper a swear word.

Both Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle gasped. They stared at her then at Granny Smith, yet all she did was continue to rock. It was the farm filly that spotted a certain purple alicorn’s ears perk immediately after Scootaloo swore. Her head shot towards the three and Apple Bloom tried to stand up before she inevitably got in trouble alongside her friend.

“Excuse me, young lady?! Where did you learn such foul language?!” The princess asked, and only then did Scootaloo stop laughing. The filly wasn’t self aware at the worst of times.

Scootaloo turned around only to find long legs and a disappointed frown. The realization that an adult overheard her seemed to have the little pegasus stumbling her words. “I..I didn’t mean it..” her ears fell flat against her head as she shrunk into herself.

“Then why did you say it?” The way the alicorn shook her head made all three fillies feel guilty. It was a finger wag. It was a tsk tsk tsk.

Apple Bloom kept her mouth shut, but she still attempted to create distance between herself and the situation. She was backing up so much that her flank nearly hit the door, when suddenly it flew open, and a group of adults stepped out. Applejack was in the lead, and in the middle of a conversation, when she spotted her friend. “What’s going on, Twi?” She asked, and the two ponies with her approached Granny Smith. Apple Bloom recognized them as the family from Appleoosa. The stallion she knew as cousin Braeburn, but she hadn’t a clue who the soft green mare with him was.

“I caught these fillies swearing at your grandmother,” Twilight didn’t raise her voice, but she continued that head shake that said, ‘Foals these days,’ and what really sucked is the other adults joining in on the head shaking. The disappointment stun. It hurt worse than a nasty wasp out for flesh.

Sweetie Belle was quick to pass the buck. “I didn’t say anything,” Then she pointed at Scootaloo who had her snout on the floor. “She’s the one who said the b-word!”

Apple Bloom stayed quiet. Unlike the unicorn, she wasn’t all too interested in tattling to save her own flank. Plus a word wasn’t that big of a deal. It was bad, but there were worse things out there. It wasn’t until Applejack sharply nipped at her ear did she suddenly stop glaring at Sweetie Belle and Twilight. “Oww!” The filly yelped.

“Now you tell us the truth, ya hear me? Did you call Granny Smith a bitch?” That same stern look Apple Bloom grew to hate was edged all over her sister’s face. She knew she was only acting tough because family was there, and from the corner of the filly’s eye she saw how their cousins practically egged her sister on with their looks.

With her magic, Twilight plugged both Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle’s ears. It was as if they didn’t already know the word, but the princess was a stupid prude. “Please, let us refrain from repeating it, and there is no need for violence,”

“With all due respect, Twilight, lemme handle my household n’ you can handle yours.” Applejack only turned to address her friend for the shortest second in history before she was right back to giving Apple Bloom the stink eye. “Did ya, Apple Bloom?” She asked again.

She didn’t. Scootaloo didn’t either. “It wasn’t addressed to Granny,” the filly mumbled, and she kicked the dirt at her hooves, and she avoided eye contact, and she wished everypony would stop gawking at her. That didn’t seem like a good enough excuse though, and Scootaloo wasn’t pleading her case anymore. Everypony just left it all on Apple Bloom’s shoulder despite her not doing a thing.

“Gon ahead and wait in yer room. I’ll talk to you in a bit,”

The filly almost cried then. She knew there wasn’t going to be any talking, but those were code words for ‘prepare for a spanking,’. Twilight appeared satisfied, either because she didn’t know what it meant, or because she felt like she’d properly scolded them. Braeburn appeared satisfied too, and there was no way he didn’t know what was about to happen.

The princess gave a nod to the two before speaking to the foals. “Come on, we better tell your guardians about this—“

They weren’t going to leave like they didn’t just throw stones and hide their hooves! Apple Bloom did nothing wrong! Why should she get punished on her birthday? How was that fair? “No, AJ..” she cried with fresh tears in her eyes. “…I didn’t even say it,” Her face quickly grew wet and snotty as she was at the verge of throwing a tantrum. “I didn’t!” The filly screamed. “I didn’t say it, Applejack!” She wailed and tugged on Applejack's fur to try and get her to listen.

“Who made my grandfoal cry? What’s going on? What y’all doing to her?” As if shaken out of a conscious coma, Granny Smith stopped rocking and attempted to get on her hooves. She was barely made aware of herself, looking every which way, and mumbling again, but this time as equally angry as Apple Bloom was upset. Their cousins tried to calm the old mare, but now she started swinging.

“Granny Smith it ain’t nothin’” Applejack attempted to soothe her only to have her hat smacked clean off her head. A swift hoof hooked her on the chin, and by now Braeburn and the other nameless cousin were struggling to get her back in her rocker. Her sister held her jaw as a trickle of blood ran down her busted lip. “Apple Bloom, upstairs now,”

Despite granny lashing out also not being her fault, Apple Bloom just knew in her heart of hearts her sister was really going to give it to her now. She bawled even harder, hoping to gather sympathy with her fit. Her cousins looked at her like she was the biggest brat west of Canterlot, and it only made her want to prove them right.

“I’ll take care of it. You jus’ focus on Granny,” the deep steady voice of their brother had both fillies pulling their attention towards him. Big Mac stood at the bottom of the porch with his face painted as a tiger. If this were any other situation Apple Bloom would be laughing her head off, but now she was really struck with fear. If she had to choose between Applejack and Big Mac for a whooping she’d go with Applejack everytime. That wasn’t rocket science, the strength in his muscles could likely tear fur from flesh.

Her sister seemed to catch on to this fact, so she said, “Thanks, but ah got it. You ain’t gotta worry, okay?” And Applejack often left the discipline up to herself.

Granny Smith started kicking even harder when she saw Big Mac. “Did he hurt my grandfoal!? I ain’t gonna stand no demon laying hooves on mine!!” Another stray punch went flying. More ducking and dodging took place.

Breaburn interjected. “Ah think it’s best you do let him handle it,” and of course he was referring to the fact that Granny hated Big Mac’s guts, but something told Apple Bloom that he just wanted her to get a very bad spanking. Again, she never called Granny a bitch, and she’d scream at him if she didn’t think it would only make the punishment worse.

Applejack didn’t think much about it when Granny Smith started flailing about much worse than before. “Go on now,” her head motioned towards Big Mac before once again she gave her full attention to their grandmother. “Let’s get her in the house,”

Apple Bloom stared at her brother, who didn’t look all that menacing, but she thought about him swinging a belt and it made more sobs slip through. She took her sweet time inching towards him. Then she hicced, “please…please don’t hit me too hard,” she tearfully begged with a face as red as his.

“I ain’t gonna hit ya,” when she was close enough, he guided her further away from the house by getting behind her and gently nudging her rump. It was encouragement to keep going. So she did.

Apple Bloom was sniffling like crazy; she could barely speak. “Y-yer..yer not?” They we’re approaching the apple orchard now. Most ponies had already gone home and the evidence of the party lay scattered all over the cut grass. There was no doubt she was going to be made to help clean it up in the morning before school.

“Nope. The hayride, remember?” And he kept leading her down a path.

Apple Bloom tried to calm down enough to comprehend what he was saying, but when she finally did she stopped and wrapped her hooves around her big brother’s legs. “Yes! I remember,” a snail trail was wiped in his fur but he didn’t seem to care. He was the best. The very best in the world. “But everypony’s gone home, and Granny and AJ can’t come,” and still she hiccuped despite no longer crying.

He nuzzled into her mane. Warm breath blowing against her scalp. Below him she felt safe, secure, like nothing in all of Equestria could harm her. His voice vibrated in his throat again and it felt like a calming massage. “Then ah guess it’s jus’ the two of us,”

Hayride

Right here was a really good spot. You know the spot. One with the best array of moonlight, the best view, the best clearing. A nice field to graze, and Apple Bloom didn’t know it then, but grass did taste the best when it was covered in late night dew. But they didn’t come to snack.

“Woah! Did you see that?” The filly pointed at the starry sky. A stray rocket of light shot through the great void of space. It was quick, and if she weren’t looking up at just the right time it was very likely she would’ve missed. Big Mac was way more perceptive than her. He had to see it. “Didja?” Her voice held that childish excitement that only the naive could harbor.

“Eyep,” the stallion nodded and he too looked up at the sky. Apple Bloom was on his back just like this morning, but she stood on her hind legs and rested her fore hooves on the very top of his head to have a better reach of the sky. They watched in silence for a minute. No new comet soared from the great beyond, but the stars that were stagnant made for a nice sight. If they looked very closely they could make out a constellation or two.

The filly nearly lost her footing when Big Mac started moving again.

The two were pretty far from the farmhouse, in fact Apple Bloom could see the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ treehouse just a yard away. Her big brother saw it too, and he left their perfect spot to head towards the small structure. The filly held on tightly to his blonde mane like the steers of a buggy. Apple Bloom was ready for the ride, she basked in it. With every bump, every dip, every movement—none of it could discourage the freedom horseback riding provided, and her brother was her stead.

Nonetheless, Big Mac was no racehorse, and so he took his time when he trotted along. Hoof to the beaten path. An even clop as the stallion’s knees altered like the coupling rods of a locomotive. The filly was gambado in both motion and spirit. The world was so large from up so high. Her mane bounced against her tiny forehead. Cheeks elated as a smile spread wide across them.

“Look, Big Mac!” Apple Bloom scrambled to climb down when her brother came to a stop. He lowered his neck to give her an easy route to the ground, and she used his head as a slide. Her rump knocked against his wet snout and he blew from his nostrils as if he were about to sneeze. “Look what we added in here,” Apple Bloom climbed the ladder to the treehouse. The hatch door was opened and she wiggled herself into it. Immediately the foal ran towards the far back wall where her and her friends had mapped out all the tasks they completed in an attempt to earn their cutie marks. The list was as long as Celestia’s legs, and there were a lot of tasks crossed out. Looking at it brought a feeling of great accomplishment, yet it still triggered this sense of disappointment. Either way, she really wanted her brother to see it.

Big Mac could only really fit his head through the trap door. Apple Bloom giggled when a tiger-faced pony peeked around the small room. A giant in a dollhouse. A head in a box.

“Can ya see it from all the way over there?” The wall got a nice tap. The knock against the hollow wood traveled all the way to his head, and if he were a metal bell she was sure there would be an echo.

“You made it?” He asked and he sounded very impressed.

Apple Bloom puffed her chest out with pride. “Ah did..well..we all did, but it was my idea,”

“It’s any wonder ya ain’t got yer mark yet,”

“Yeah…” It was any wonder. At this point life was just playing a cruel joke on her. Beyond her friends, every foal in class had a mark. Now how was that fair? “..do you think we’ll get it soon?” She asked, and to her Big Mac had the wisdom of a seasoned sage. Not to mention his honesty. Applejack was literally the embodiment of honesty, but sometimes her words didn’t hit as close to home as his, so she awaited his answer as a tiger stroked its furry chin in thought.

With a smile he said, “nope,” and Apple Bloom all but playfully charged at his face with a mighty roar.

“Nope? Oh you big ol’—I’ll make you eat those words,” she tugged at the furious feline's jowl, forcing it’s lips apart to show it’s scary teeth, and in the process the two went tumbling out of the treehouse. Big Mac caught her fall then presented his cheek again so she could give it a nice punch. No punches for a big cat; it’d be too easy to get snagged in its jaws. She caught the tiger by the ears and wrangled him to the ground. Immediately the beast came in for another attack in the form of belly tickles. Apple Bloom squirmed on her back as he blew very ferine raspberries against her very ticklish spot.

Apple Bloom fell into a laughing fit. “Okay, okay, you win!” She yelled through pleasant tears.

Big Mac pulled away to give her a second of mercy. “Mark or not, ah still love you for you,”

Apple Bloom looked at him from her spot on the ground and a smile spread across her face. The amount of unadulterated admiration she held that that very moment could be felt stronger than the gravitational pull the planets had around the sun. “Yer only saying that because yer my brother,”

“Ah see I gotta prove it, huh?” He went right back to his killer tickles, and Apple Bloom had to hold her gut lest she die of hysteria. As she giggled he rested his large chin on her stomach, the air blowing from her nostrils caused the fur on her chest to dance. Apple Bloom gently curled her body around his large snout and her legs were so tiny it wasn’t easy for them to reach his standing ears. Big Mac continued to breathe against her smaller form, wearing her like a mask.

Apple Bloom, through a few pauses of laughter, reminded him, “that tickles,” and it did the way he blew and sniffed like she was the sweetest flower in Twilight’s kingdom. It felt silly as tickles did, but it only started to feel strange when he opened his mouth to lightly nibble on her belly. Still Apple Bloom giggled, perhaps out of this feeling of not knowing. It sure did seem okay, and when his nibbling went a little lower than her belly, it seemed okay too. It wasn’t until it reached her peach did she stop giggling.

“Yer not supposed to touch me there,” She reminded Big Mac, and it was obvious he must’ve not known. Applejack did only share the no-no spots with her. Apple Bloom was always willing to educate and inform. It made her feel very grown up.

Yet Big Mac didn’t hear her because he didn’t stop and instead he opened his mouth wider and pressed his tongue against her peach. It caused her to yelp from the sudden warmness. That felt very funny, and it felt even worse when his tongue ran down it and up it again. The filly squirmed, and he poked his tongue deep inside her before wrapping his lips against the whole of her peach to suck on it like it was a real fruit, but it wasn’t a real fruit, and what he was doing was very, very bad.

Apple Bloom panicked then.

She shrieked and her hind hoof kicked against him to use his face as a surface to propel herself to break free. It took a few kicks to get him to let her go, but when he did she quickly got to her feet and took a defensive stance. With her legs splayed and her head low, Apple Bloom threatened to charge at him again, only this time a little less playfully. “You gotta listen! I said..!” She yelled like a brat. “..you can’t touch me there!” Big and loud. A roar as mighty as a griffin’s.

Big Mac stood up and when the stallion got to his hooves Apple Bloom saw a strange snake dangle from between her legs. She recognized it for what it was. There was a game a few of the older fillies played a year ago. The goal was to pretend to accidentally walk into the wrong bathroom while it was in use, and it seemed fun. If bigger foals played, Apple Bloom thought to do the same just to prove she was grown up. So she did it; walked in the male’s bathroom and saw a colt’s private parts. Immediately she apologized and left with rosy cheeks, but it made the other ponies laugh, and maybe that was another goal of the game. Even still, the willy she saw was nowhere as huge as Big Mac’s.

“Don’t pee out here. You gotta go inside,” despite Apple Bloom’s previous anger, she couldn’t help but try to steer Big Mac in the right direction. Willies only came out when nature was calling, and civilized ponies knew to use plumbing. Even though he was an adult he seemed so clueless tonight. It was so silly. The tiger paint must’ve fried his brain.

The stallion circled around to her rump, sniffing it. His snout lifted beneath her tail. Apple Bloom gasped then sat down. “Stop it! You aren’t listening to me!” He refused to respond to any of her comments, and now the smelling wasn’t funny but slightly frightening. Apple Bloom had her eyes on his odd willy. It twitched and leaked something too clear to be pee. She wondered if Big Mac didn't feel good. She wondered if he fell sick. “Please listen!” Another whine.

He bit down at the base of her tail which hauled her flank in the air. It wasn’t aggressive, rather a gentle lift to the feet, but it was reciprocated with Apple Bloom instinctively bucking him on the cheek. His head barely swayed on its hinges. In fact, it didn’t move at all. That kick had a lot of force exerted from her tiny legs, but it didn’t phase him. It just did nothing. “Big Mac!” The scream was to rattle whatever was left in her brother’s brain. She told him before what wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t that hard to understand. “Why are you ignoring me!?” Apple Bloom was crying now. Hot tears swelled at her eyes as a blend of fear and frustration brewed inside her like scolding coffee. Apple Bloom made a full u-turn, her rump no longer at his snout, but they were nose to nose, and he raised his head slightly to peck her and smear tiger paint on her lips.

A kiss would usually be okay, but Big Mac had that strange look in his eyes again. She didn’t like it. The thought of running into the treehouse where he couldn’t get her was very tempting, but Apple Bloom didn’t want to fear her brother. She didn’t want to fear him at all. He was sick, maybe he came down with something really bad. “We…we need to go back so Applejack can help you,” and she genuinely thought it would be a good idea to mention their sister. She genuinely thought he would appreciate the help.

“We don't tell AJ.” That was the first thing he said something in a while. Big Mac started to move, once again heading for her backside, but Apple Bloom was quick to turn as he did.

“I’m gonna tell her,” the filly’s face was still tear ridden, but she had an angry scowl replace her weeping frown. He was as stubborn as an old mule. “You aren’t feeling good so she’s gonna help you!!”

Big Mac raised a brow. He stopped trying to chase her tail and instead stood with his neck raising ever so slightly like the tide at Seaward Shoals. “Help? When on Luna’s moon did ah done say ah needed help?” His voice wasn’t particularly angry. It wasn’t particularly playful either. It was that dead baritone that accompanied most conversations he’d have with strangers.

“Then why are you doing it?” And just like that her tough guy facade was crumbling, and it was crumbling fast. She stared at his willy swaying about with each movement, and Apple Bloom just found herself confused. It mesmerized her like a dancing python preparing to strike. She was distracted. It wasn't until it was out of her line of vision did she realize her brother was once again behind her. Before the filly could sprint out of the way, he stood above her, a gazebo for the smaller equine, and his willy poked against the back of her head. Apple Bloom had plans to scoot up as she didn’t like it, but then his forelegs went down and his upper body along with it. This meant she also went down as her head was now pinned to the dirt. He was crushing her, but strangely he was gentle enough not to apply the whole of his massive weight on top of her, which allowed her to still breathe. Still she panicked, and with panic came hyperventilation, and with that came the need to shove more air in the lungs.

“Get…get off!!” She screeched, and she tried to wiggle under him, and her hind legs went up as they struggled to pull the rest of the body free. She felt her brother reposition himself awkwardly above her before something wet and slick rubbed against her flank. Apple Bloom was still pinned and whatever was against her was pushing and it was pushing hard. At first it only slid against the curvature of her behind smearing goo in her fur and tangling her tail. It didn’t take long for it to poke lower and lower like an elephant’s trunk searching for a peanut. It bumped up against her anus, rubbing and coating glop on it, and making her squeal louder than the pigs in the barn.

Big Mac stopped. His willy pulled away from her, a mind of its own, and a mind deciding against that particular spot. She hoped it was because he knew it didn’t feel so good for her, but it was only a few seconds later that his thingy started searching again. The thing felt moist, flat at the end, and it easily was wider than the whole of her cunny. As it started rubbing along her peach she could feel it against both butt cheeks. The sensation of this thing kneading against her privates felt more funny than the licking. At first it didn’t particularly feel bad. As he rubbed she stopped squirming and her breathing even slowed as she felt a tingle between her legs. The wet, slick, sounds his thingy made as it coated her more and more in sticky goo had Apple Bloom clenching his fur. “B-big Mac,” she whined. It felt good, her brain decided. It felt really good that her hips slightly tried to follow the motion of his rubbing. “Big Mac…” her small voice had a hint of pleasure in it. His rubbing was making her peach feel hot. She opened her legs wider, but only just a little. Building pressure was rising in her gut. “..Big Mac…Big Mac I’m gonna pee,” whatever he was doing it was making her want to burst, and that was scary. She couldn’t hold it back either. Something was coming—

Her brother made a low grunt above her. The rubbing stopped and it was replaced with more pushing, only he wasn’t as tender this time. Apple Bloom didn’t know what was happening until the shoving started to burn and she realized he was trying to force his willy into her. He pushed, and the air was knocked out of her lungs. What was once coming had halted as if a great dam was quickly constructed to keep the pee in. She was muted—the words jammed in her throat. She couldn’t tell him to stop. She couldn’t tell him how painful it felt the more he pushed. She couldn’t even scream. Her brother continued to grunt. The flat end of his thingy kept slipping. It’d return to its target, then slip. It’d try again and again with more added force but she was just too small to fit him. A push, and her entrance wouldn’t stretch far enough. He’d slip. All it did was bruise her lips and cause great discomfort.

Yet he persisted. A rub. A swaying of hips. A push. A shove. A rocking, steady, a ship on calm waters. It felt worse than a whooping. It felt so bad that Apple Bloom couldn’t keep her legs up, yet she was held by his willy, lifted by it as it tried countless times to tear into her. With each strange sound he made on top of her, his body pressed further and further down. She feared he would get so lost in his attempts that he’d forget her other half was below him and soon she would be suffocated and squished.

But Apple Bloom couldn’t get the words out to tell him. No matter how hard the tears came, or how red she got in the face, they were just stuck. She was going to die. She was going to die right here beneath her treehouse and below the brother she didn’t know she could ever fear. Black specs danced along the filly’s vision. It dawned on her she hadn’t taken a breath in a while. An alarming exertion to expand the lungs was made to no avail. To breathe was as hard a task as an earth pony learning how to fly. The black specs grew larger and larger each passing second.

Then something shot against her underbelly. It was hot and it stuck to her fur and glued her compressed upper half to the grass. The low grunting transformed into a gratifying bellow. Big Mac stood up then. The hot goo was still spraying as it got her on the back and in her mane. It burned like molten magma, and it made the rush of cool air prick worse than subzero temperatures.

Apple Bloom sucked in a breath. Her whole body expanded, a balloon filled with oxygen, before it deflated just the same. Over and over again it repeated the process until at least that cork in her throat was spat out and she managed to make a weak cry. “…I’m sorry..” She wanted Applejack. She wanted her sister more than anything. She wanted to be held and comforted, “..I’m sorry,” and she wanted to understand what she did wrong to make Big Mac hurt her. So she cried, and she bayed, and she whinnied in hopes Applejack would come to her aid.

But her cries would go unanswered.

Trouble

Apple Bloom was miserable. She sat at the kitchen table watching the mystery— nopony cares who she is—mare feed her grandmother cold oatmeal. Applejack told her last night that it was Braeburn’s wife; Beretta, or Bandanna, or Banana, or something or another. Whatever her sister said she couldn’t hear her over her own wailing, and she didn’t care even if she could. The stupid b-word still got the meanest stink eye Apple Bloom could give that morning. She still egged on her stupid cousin, and she still thought she could play her mother despite Apple Bloom not knowing who the heck she was.

A spoon missed Granny’s lips for the third time, and Banana Face got to wiping up the mess, but occasionally she’d glance over at Apple Bloom and give a smile. It wasn’t reciprocated. The bowl of oatmeal in front of the filly wasn’t touched either. Nopony asked this stranger to make breakfast. “You should eat lest it gets cold,” her voice was soft and stupid sounding.

“It’s already cold.” The bowl slid to the middle of the table so haphazardly that it rocked like an ark at high seas and splashed oatmeal everywhere. The filly crossed her arms and glared further, daring the Banana Butt to say something.

Of course she didn’t, and maybe Apple Bloom felt very tough getting to defy her with no repercussions.

The back door shut.

Apple Bloom jumped nearly out of her coat, and as quick as a pegasus could flap a wing, she dropped her folded arms and kept her head low. Big Mac washed her down with the hose last night. The same hose they used to clean Winona with before they had to give her away. The cold water sloshing against her fur only made the sticky goo more tangled. Still she had to sit there and cry until he felt satisfied with the removal of whatever mess he made. He then towel dried her as gently as he always would, but it didn’t feel the same. In fact, it felt wrong.

When they finally got in the house Applejack and stupid Braeburn were drinking coffee and talking about something stupid. It was so obvious they were waiting for her, and instead of comforting the crying Apple Bloom, Applejack thought it smart to say, “we wouldn’t have to spank ya if ya didn’t misbehave,” and boy wasn’t that funny? Her sister wasn’t so quick to slap her unless stupid company was around. Who was Breaburn anyway but a country hick with a disdain for buffalo? Plus he had a stupid face, and a stupid wife, and she hated him so much.

Applejack was wrong anyway. She wasn’t crying because of an imaginary whooping, and she’d scream at her and tell her just how wrong she was if Braeburn wasn’t staring at her the whole time she was getting a scolding.

“Mornin’” Big Mac got a glass of water from the tap. He had his back to her and Granny Smith, and Apple Bloom was praying to the sisters that the sight of him would trigger their grandmother. She wanted the old mare to have another one of her breakdowns just so Big Mac could feel bad about himself and maybe he’d leave and never come back ever again. It was then she noticed an orange bottle of pills on the table and wondered if they had a thing to do with the zombie-like state Granny was in. “Thought Ah’d go on ahead n’ take care of yer chores again,” his voice rattled in her tiny head.

“That is very sweet of you,” Banana Breath had the cheekiest grin on her face. She once again missed their grandmother’s mouth and Apple Bloom really hoped the oatmeal would get all over her lime fur. “Ah understand if yer feeling guilty about the punishment. Ah used to hate em as a filly, but I’m thankful my parents did it. Who knows where ah’d be without a little fire to the tush when ah acted outta line,” again with her mouse squeaks that were supposed to serve as words. She sounded nowhere as quiet as her babysitter, Fluttershy, but it was still below the average indoor voice.

Big Mac left the water running. It didn’t look like he was drinking much. His ears fell flat against his head. “Eyep.” It didn’t come out as monotone as usual, in fact if Apple Bloom wasn’t mistaken it sort of sounded like regret. There was a silent pause before the stallion sighed and turned around to look at her. “Ya fixing for another ride to school?”

Apple Bloom kept her head down and pretended to be clueless. The ridges on her hooves were counted. The number of times it took a second to pass the minute threshold was counted too. 60 seconds made a minute. 180 seconds made three. Her eyes were burning, threatening to get red with tears.

“He’s talkin’ to you, foal,” Banana b-word said, and now Apple Bloom couldn’t help but cry. She wiped at her lids with her hooves over and over again to try to wipe the tears away, but they were flowing freely at this point. “Oh, Deer lord,” the stupid comments weren’t helping. Apple Bloom was sobbing, and hiccuping, and taking in wet staggered breaths between each whimper.

Granny Smith was still just a living corpse, and Apple Bloom didn’t know how much she missed her grandmother’s reaction until then.

“What in tarnations is goin’ on in here?” Applejack entered the kitchen with her cowboy hat on her head and this look of impatience that only reared its ugly face when she had someplace to be and didn’t want to be late. Yet she still stopped to assess the situation. Yet she still spotted the culprit of the chaos. “Apple Bloom what has gotten into you?” Her sister approached, and looked just about ready to tear her a new one, when Big Mac stood in the way.

He grabbed a rag and got to cleaning the oatmeal. “My fault. No need to chew her out,”

Applejack didn’t seem satisfied, more than curious. “Why is she cryin’?” She asked him first, but quickly decided to just go to the source instead. “What's wrong? What’s bothering you?” As Big Mac wiped Applejack lowered her head to try and get a good view of her sister. Her voice was as comforting as warm milk on a Sunday evening, and it made Apple Bloom’s wail simmer down to light sniffles. Her bottom lip poked out as she frowned. “C’mon, sweet pea, you can tell me,”

“Ah think ah hit her too hard last night,” Big Mac quickly interjected, and Applejack raised her head to stare him in the eye.

“You ain’t bruise her did ya? Cause I swear on momma’s grave I’ll kick yer ass if you did,” the farm mare was as serious as a sitting judge. Nopony wanted to feel the wrath of her mighty hind legs. She could likely shatter bone, not that Applejack would ever hurt Big Mac that badly, but Apple Bloom kind of wanted her too. “‘cuse the language, but ya done got me hoppin’ mad. Ah knew I shoulda never let ya do it,”

“Ah ain’t bruise nobody. Yer blowing it outta portion,” Big Mac rolled his eyes, clearly offended by her insinuation that he couldn’t bite his tongue. Despite it, he didn’t move from the table. It was like he became this wall between them. The middle man. The cord between two phones.

“Apple Bloom, did he hit ya too hard? Lemme see yer tush to check,” and she circled around Big Mac to get directly at the foal. The whole time his head followed and he wore a look that could only be described as smothered panic. Itt try was like he was trying not to lose it in front of everypony, but Apple Bloom could see it as clear as day. She wanted to tell Applejack everything, but then there was the fear of other the ponies watching, especially Big Mac, and she didn’t know how he’d react. That uncertainty was very scary.

“Ah know it ain’t my place, but that filly has been nothin’ but trouble since we got here. Y’all spoil her and this is the result,” Banana Belly inserted her dumb opinion in the mix, and Big Mac jumped on the opportunity to wiggle his way out.

“Eyep,” the stallion started. “Ah ain’t hurt her that bad,” He nodded his head. Banana did as well.

Applejack wasn’t buying it. “Ah got eyes, I’ll see for myself. Now c’mon Apple Bloom. If you ain’t feelin’ comfortable we can go upstairs and you can show me in the bedroom,” she offered the filly a hoof, and Apple Bloom was quick to take it.

The sniffling stopped as she made eye contact with her sister. Something about the warm glow on her face made Apple Bloom feel relaxed. “Okay—“

The front swung open and Breaburn came running into the kitchen. “We gotta go now! The cart is loaded but the train leaves in 10 minutes!”

As quick as ever, everypony rushed to get Granny Smith on her feet. Applejack let go of Apple Bloom’s hoof as she took their grandmother’s instead. “We best hurry. Can’t afford to miss that train,” she reminded Breaburn and his wife. The two nodded as the stallion helped with walking Granny Smith to the door. His wife followed after, and they were halfway out when Applejack briefly stopped to yell. “We’ll talk about this later, but don’t ya be late for school, Apple Bloom!” then the front door shut.

The oatmeal was left. The pills were left. The spot they sat at was left empty. They were gone before Apple Bloom could count to 60.

Now she was alone with Big Mac.

Apple Bloom tried not to cry again, but she was very afraid. The image of his willy wouldn’t go away, not now, not when she was sleeping last night, not ever. It hurt to sit down, yet it hurt worse to stand, and when she looked at her peach this more it was puffy. Applejack would’ve seen it if Apple Bloom raised her tail. She really wanted her to just so the weight of telling her would be shifted on her body and not her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Apple Bloom said again, and she hoped it would make him less angry with her.

But Big Mac didn’t make eye contact. He only lowered his head and turned the running tap off. “Ah can take you to school?” He asked again.

Apple Bloom’s bottom lip was still jutted out, but it twitched, and she choked back the need to bawl. Instead she dragged his wet face along her arm, grabbed her saddleback and ran for the back door without saying a word.

“I didn’t even get in trouble,” Sweetie Belle said as she glued a cut out butterfly on her Hearts and Hooves Day card. “Rarity only listened to Princess Twilight go on and on about the importance of language, but when we left she told me that her head got blown all big after she was crowned, so we could ignore her, and then Rarity didn’t even tell our parents,” that got a sole giggle from the young unicorn. In her seat she shimmied a bit.

“So you got off scot-free?” Scootaloo poured half a bottle of glitter on her card. Two ponies kissing was crudely drawn with crayon on the cover. One looked like Rainbow Dash and the other was hard to make out. “That’s better than what I got. My mom was shaking in her boots to see the royal pain,” the foal looked around briefly before whispering, “Then she asked, ‘where the fuck I learned the b-word from?’ And you guys shoulda saw how red her face got,” with another splash of glitter it scattered like a dust cloud. “Me and my daddy started laughing cause it was the funniest thing ever,”

Sweetie Belle sneezed. “…it’s..it’s not cool your parents swear at you,” the unicorn wiped her nose on her arm.

“Yer Ma doesn’t take me as the cussin’ type. Ain’t she like a zookeeper or somethin’?” Apple Bloom added as she grabbed a new crayon.

“No. She’s not a lame zookeeper, and she swears all the time and there is nothing wrong with it. Ponyville is just strange about that stuff, but if you’ve been to Manehatten everypony is throwing f-bombs and b-words all the time,” there was a pause as the filly looked around the classroom to try and spot their teacher. Cheerilee sat at her desk reading a paper to Pipsqueak and very much distracted and out of listening range. “There’s also words like cunt, and shithead, and pussy, and douchebag, and cock guzzler—“

“Scootaloo!” Sweetie gasped as she held a hoof to her friend’s mouth to silence her. “If you don’t stop I’ll tell,”

“Pussy? What does that mean?” Apple Bloom whispered.

Scootaloo shoved Sweetie Belle’s hoof aside. “It means a coward I think,”

“Cock is a chicken, right? Does it mean coward too?”

“No that’s a colt’s penis,”

“It doesn’t matter what it means we aren’t supposed to say it,” Sweetie Belle reminded and she really could be a no good snitch at times. The conversation was dropped, and the three worked on their cards in silence. Somepony yelled at the back of the class and they all turned to look at Snips laughing very loudly. Cheerilee told him to settle down and the rowdiness simmered.

Scootaloo glanced at Apple Bloom’s paper. It had a much bigger pony standing next to a sad smaller one. No hearts. No splash of love. No happiness. “Is that for Hearts and Hooves Day?”

Apple Bloom immediately covered her card. Embarrassment hit her harder than a runaway freight train. “Maybe. Ah don’t know. It’s stupid,”

Sweetie Belle tried to peek over their joint desks to get a look. “I don’t think it has to be love themed. Ms. Cheerilee only told us to make a card,” she got back to cutting another butterfly when she realized she wouldn’t be able to see anything unless Apple Bloom let her.

“I’m gonna change my card too. I think these two can get a little more personal,” Scootaloo smirked as she nudged her earth pony friend. Sweetie Belle only looked at her blankly. Apple Bloom kept her head down. “It's a joke. You guys are such newborns,”

“What makes us newborns?” The unicorn asked in a slight whine. The insinuation offended her so much she had this need to prove she wasn’t a little foal. So now she tried to look at Scootaloo’s card to compare it. “Is it the colors?”

The pegasus shook her head, mane bouncing in the process. “Forget it. It flew right over ya,”

Sweetie Belle only pouted, but she returned to coloring. Scootaloo was weird and knew things a lot of other foals their age didn’t. She was probably allowed to stay in the room when the adults were talking, and read more than just kid books, and get to see what they did when they closed their bedroom doors. Scootaloo was so cool. “Did you get in trouble, AB?” the question was asked to muffle the light chatter of their classmates.

“I was wondering that too. Your sister seemed really mad. Did she talk your ear off like my mom does? I wanna put a muzzle on her to shut her up sometimes,” Scootaloo slapped a whole glob of glue on her card. It looked like a mess of confetti, glitter, and clashing colors.

Apple Bloom made sure to cover her drawing with her arm. She was making the big pony angrier and scarier. He was given mean eyebrows and a grimace. She drew a snake between his legs. “Ah don’t wanna talk about it—“

The sound of desks dragging against the floor made for a rough commotion behind them. Foals gasped and moved out of the way as fists were thrown. The three all turned around to see what was going on, and what they found was two classmates in the middle of a coltish brawl. Their classmates wrestled and shoved against each other trying to topple the other. They were yelling and name calling. Kicking, pulling hair, spitting in the bystanders. It was quite the violent show.

“Snips! Snails! Both of you stop at once!” Cheerilee shot up from her desk as quick as a rocket in take off. She got in the middle of the two and pulled their bodies apart. The colts still tried to get at each other even after their teacher wagged her hoof at them. “After school detention, I will be alerting your parents,” whatever they were fighting about the anger suddenly dwindled out as they collectively begged for another punishment.

Apple Bloom, like everypony else, watched with wide eyes. She’s seen them fight before, the two were notorious for it, but never did a fight resonate so well with her. Something about getting a few punches and kicks in didn’t seem like such a bad way to relieve stress. Something about making the pony that hurt her really badly suffer didn’t seem so bad, but then it kind of did, and now she didn’t know how she felt. Now she felt guilt, anger, and sadness all at once. What did it mean not to know one’s emotions? What did it mean to be so lost as if the body she resided in was no longer her own but a stranger’s? What did any of it mean?

“What idiots. Who fights in front of a teacher?”
Scootaloo whispered and Sweetie Belle agreed. Apple Bloom was left speechless.

The final bell for the day rang as the schoolfoals gathered their bags at their cubbies. It was a race to get out of there as quickly as possible for some, and for others they took their sweet time talking to friends. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were among the latter.

“I gotta go guys. I got singing lessons at Rarity’s boutique today,” Sweetie Belle waved at the two before adjusting her saddlebag. She was speed more than Rainbow Dash was speed. “But we can walk home tomorrow,”

“Alrighty! Try not to rupture your sister’s eardrums,” Scootaloo yelled as her friend only rolled her eyes before disappearing beyond the front doors. A hop, a skip, a jump out of the way and now it was just the two. “She can be such a goody-two-shoes,”

“Ah see nothin’ wrong with that. At least it keeps her outta trouble,” Apple Bloom shoved her Hearts and Hoove Day Card in her bag. They were supposed to turn it in at the end of the class. Later, when they were assigned a name, the class would pass out the cards to their pretend special somepony when the holiday came, but Apple Bloom figured one less card wouldn’t hurt anypony. Besides, she didn’t want a soul to see what she drew. When she got home she would tear it to shreds and bury it in the yard.

Scootaloo leaned on her scooter. “I guess, but like Rainbow Dash says, you gotta live life to the fullest, and sometimes that means getting into trouble,” a stick of bubble gum was thrown down her hatch. She started chewing, and chewing obnoxiously.

“Like cussin’ up a storm like yer momma?” Apple Bloom teased.

The pegasus playfully nudged her on the shoulder. “Exactly, and you should do it more often too. I already know you really like the word cock,” her friend whispered with an arrogant grin. Her eyebrows wiggled as she sang a romantic, saxophone-esque, tune.

Apple Bloom’s face turned a beet red. “Ah—ah don’t even remember what it means,”

Cheerilee came out of the classroom with a small bell in her mouth. “Five minutes until the start of after school detention! If you are late you will need to come back tomorrow afternoon too, so let’s get a hop in our step and get going!” Her fore hoof rolled in a huge circle to rush the ponies along.

Scootaloo put her helmet on her head. “I best get going too. I am technically grounded,” She got on her tiny vehicle and started to propel herself forward. Apple Bloom quickly put her saddlebag on her back before she chased after her. They got to the door and Scootaloo turned to the earth filly before they both could get past the archway. “Looks like your brother is here to pick you up. I’m gonna try to get my dad to do that,”

“Wha?” Apple Bloom frozen got a moment. It didn’t register what her friend said until she peeked over her shoulder. Lo and behold, she was right. Sitting under the shade in the near empty courtyard was Big Mac. When Scootaloo pushed herself out of the door he spotted her and got up.

Apple Bloom hid then.

She heard the two greet each other and she heard Scootaloo say something along the lines of ‘She was just behind me,’ and Apple Bloom felt lightheaded. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and she really wanted to throw up. Spots danced along her vision. Her knees felt wobbly. She was scared, and she didn’t know why.

The small bell rang again. “One minute until detention!”

Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were in deep conversation. The two quickly approached the door along with a few remaining foals behind them. Everything was moving so quickly. There was no time to think.

The bell rang again. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

The two fillies looked at her. They stared and they expected Apple Bloom to move out of the way. The ponies behind them stared.

Cheerilee rang the bell.

Diamond Tiara flipped her mane back. “Excuse you—“

With all her might, Apple Bloom pushed Diamond Tiara to the ground. There was a loud thud as her pencil case and textbooks scattered out of her saddlebag. The foals around them gasped. The shocked filly stared at her in disbelief. Diamond Tiara couldn’t get a word out fast enough. It didn’t matter. None of it did.

Cheerilee saw the whole thing.

“Apple Bloom! In here now!”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” During detention each student had to write an apology letter to either their parents, classmates, or to themselves. It had to contain what they did wrong and what they will do differently in the future to improve. Cheerilee would then read it over and sign it, and in the morning they needed to bring the letter back with a parents signature. Apple Bloom only wrote two sentences. “You are usually so well behaved. I would never expect this kind of behavior from you,” on the other side of her desk Cheerilee shook her head. They were the only ones left in the schoolhouse. Even Snips and Snails went home. She didn’t think they were idiots anymore. At least they weren’t as dumb as her.

Apple Bloom lowered her snout to the ground, and didn’t she feel silly. “I’m sorry,” and she was, but she needed to avoid a big problem. At the time it seemed like the best solution. “Ah won’t do it again,”

“I can see that is all you wrote. You had an hour to write more, Apple Bloom. This isn’t acceptable,” Cheerilee got up and she motioned for Apple Bloom to follow her. “I will need to inform your sister about this,”

Despite the threat, inside the filly’s head was just static. Half of her dreaded Applejack’s reaction, while the other half didn’t care. Maybe she saw it as a necessary evil. Maybe she no longer cared about anything. Apple Bloom just didn’t know. Everything just felt so strange.

Cheerilee locked the classroom and when she had her rump to her Apple Bloom tried to peek behind her tail. She wondered if their peaches looked the same. If it was supposed to be swollen and uncomfortable. If it was supposed to hurt when she peed.

The key clicked. The mare turned around. “Come on. Let’s be on our way,” The long walk from the hallway to the door felt like the plank towards her demise. She held in a breath and prayed that maybe he wouldn’t still be there—

“Macintosh?” Cheerilee’s face lit up when she spotted the stallion. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ears, before she cleared her throat to attempt to come off as serious as possible. Apple Bloom was still trying to hide behind the grin door, but she was nudged out and pushed forward. “It’s great you’re here, I mean, well, now I can just discuss what your sister did without having to journey down to Sweet Apple Acres,” the mare stopped just short of the stallion. She looked up at him with the most obvious blush on her cheeks. “I hate to trouble you with this,”

“Ain’t no trouble at all, Ms.Cheerilee,” his voice was that flat tone again. No excitement, no dash of emotion, just a dead southern drawl.

“Apple Bloom pushed a classmate today, totally unprovoked.”

“Did she? Now why would ya go n’ do that?” Big Mac addressed her and the filly felt cold chills. It was hard to hear them with her heart pumping so loudly.

“Ah don’t know. I’m sorry,” she whispered. To look either one of them in the eye was a task too difficult.

“We gon have to do better from now on. Ya understand?” the scolding barely sounded much like a scolding. He still sounded monotone, like he didn’t care, but he wanted to please Cheerilee enough to get her to leave. “We best get. Apple Bloom will have a whole lotta work to do to make up for it,”

“Yes. That might be for the best,” Cheerilee cleared her throat again as she ceased her gawking. There was this awkward silence. Apple Bloom was counting again. She got to 34 seconds before her teacher turned to face her. “I will see you in the morning, but promise me you’ll do better,”

Apple Bloom couldn’t make such a promise, yet she still nodded, and she still held her breath. The looming darkness she had in her gut all but derived from the presence of her brother. Again with the uncertainty. Again with the fear. By the time Apple Bloom pulled herself out of that dreadful hole she realized Cheerilee was no longer standing next to her. It was only Big Mac and the quickly setting sun. There wasn’t a chance to make a promise, but perhaps that was for the best.

The flick of his tail pulled Apple Bloom back into reality. He lowered his neck to offer her a ride, but she shook her head. To be touched was the last thing she wanted, so to prevent him from continuously offering, Apple Bloom started walking. Not too quickly, but the filly didn’t want to drag behind him. She could hear his footsteps as he followed after.

They moved in silence for a while. Neither saying a word. Only the sound of hooves on stone and the ambiance of a late evening in early spring. It was still so early in the year that ponies were winding down sooner than in the summer months. Birds still chirped, and a pegasus, or two, still flew overhead, casting shadows on the ground below.

Big Mac trotted beside her when they got closer to the farm. “Ah got you somethin’” he said as he cut right in front of filly to get her to pause. They were pretty secluded, that was the first thing that came to mind. It was then Apple Bloom noticed he had a saddlebag on his back. Reaching into it he pulled out a stuffed kitten. “AJ still wouldn’t take the real thing, but ah thought this would do for now,” the teddy was dangled in his jaws and made to dance.

Apple Bloom didn’t take it. Regardless, she said, “thank you,” to be polite.

The dancing stopped. Big Mac placed the stuffed animal next to her. “Ah been, uh,” he sounded nervous, genuinely nervous, like Apple Bloom was the big scary meanie and not him. “Ah been wanting to apologize. What ah did to ya…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead he hung his head in shame and fell to her hooves. “I’m a bad pony,” his voice cracked and she felt the tears runoff from his cheeks.

Immediately her heart melted. To see her big brother cry was something Apple Bloom never expected in a million years, and she definitely didn’t want to be the cause of it. “Yer not a bad pony,” she assured him because the filly was sure he only hurt her because she misbehaved. It only made sense, and in that case she was the bad pony. A very bad pony. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry,” she nuzzled against him and he raised his neck to allow her to cuddle underneath it. Apple Bloom was nothing but trouble. She should be ashamed of herself. She was no good, and he had every right to punish her.

“Ya mean it? Yer not mad?” Softly he laid his head on her curled up body. Apple Bloom had the stuffed kitten in her hooves, and she shook her head slowly, still uncertain, but now with this desire to make her brother feel better. He had to feel better even if it meant she had to ignore her own feelings. “Then we gotta keep it a secret between us. Not a soul can know. Not even AJ,”

Apple Bloom tugged on the toy kitten’s ears. She felt it’s soft black fur. She imagined all kinds of names for him. She counted the padding on its paws, she counted it’s eyes, she counted the amount of times she clenched onto it. When Big Mac told her to keep the secret she nodded.

“And ah won’t tell her about today. That’ll be the secret ah hold,” he kissed her tiny thigh right on the spot where her cutie mark should’ve been. It felt tainted, but Apple Bloom told herself it was okay. Her brother only did it once, and he’d never do it again, not if she behaved. She only had to be a good filly. “Ah love you more than life itself, Apple Bloom,” he kissed her again and she held onto her kitten tighter.

“Ah love you too,”

Humpty Dumpty

Author's Note

So! This chapter has been a doozy, but a lot of fun to write. A lot happens as I thought I should pick up the pacing just a little more. It’s eleven and a half thousand words, so grab some popcorn for this one.

Hope you enjoy!

Humpty Dumpty

“Fetch me a rope, will ya?” Applejack herded their biggest sow away from the barn’s exit by circling around the swine while pushing headlong effectively only giving her one route of freedom, and that being forward. Her piglets squealed, and they followed after their mother closely so as not to fall in the path of the horse’s trot. Cloven hooves skidded against wet hay like an erratic marching band. Despite it, the earth mare knew not to get too close. A good buffer sat between her circling circle so as not to accidentally trample the livestock and it’s offspring.

Apple Bloom watched as her sister’s mane and tail bounced in sync with each step she took. An even clop, one of heavy hooves, yet she moved weightless as if made of feathers. Focus was on her freckled cheeks. Focus, and a bit of pride, as she managed to get the sow in just the right spot. She circled around, and around, and around like a horse on a carousel. Her tail flicked against her rump and the hair splayed against her apple cutie mark. Like satin draped over leather. Like spread paint bristles on a flat canvas.

And yet the filly had her eyes on what sat between her sister’s legs. Constantly staring. Constantly questioning, comparing, wondering why her privates didn’t look so puffy. And this was a new habit of hers, an unhealthy one, and she could admit that. Apple Bloom couldn’t remember feeling her peach touch the ground whenever she sat—not before. It just didn’t seem right. Sure she could ask about it, but there inevitably would be questions she’d have to answer, and that would inevitably lead to a few tongue slips, and that inevitably would ruin the secret.

“Sugar cube, I’m gonna need that rope,” Applejack looked over her shoulder as she made another turn. Her green eyes met Apple Bloom’s amber, and immediately the filly blushed, got up, and ran to quickly retrieve the item. Something about getting caught staring where she shouldn’t had her heart thumping like mad. A long inhale and a brisk head shake brought her vitals back to stable numbers. It was wrong and impolite. Wrong. Impolite.

A peach different than her own? Apple Bloom didn’t get a good glance, not really. Most mares were masters at concealing what lies beneath, so unless a pony was at their underbelly, or with their snout shoved between cheeks, a full frontal view was hard to get.

Apple Bloom stopped just short of the barricade between two stables. She didn’t see the rope hanging from its usual spot against the wall, so she checked around the wall, and up the wall and down the wall too. She moved tools out of the way, and peeked behind bags of fertilizer, yet she saw nothing. The metal pegboard had a shadow to signify that, yes, there should be a rope nailed to this very specific spot. Like a rock dug out of tender mud, an imprint was left, but with nothing to show for it. The filly turned back to her older sister who was still trying to keep the pigs in line. Catching one of the piglets without something with a good grip was a headache and a half. They were tiny, and quick, and as slippery as a wet bar of soap, and hooves didn’t have the best grip to begin with. “Ah don’t see it,”

Applejack didn’t stop herding, but there was a look of slight annoyance on her face. She sighed and said, “Yeah ‘cause ya ain’t lookin’ for it,” and Apple Bloom swore she said that every time she had to retrieve something for her with no luck, yet Apple Bloom was looking. She was looking with all that she had. The stupid rope just vanished out of thin air, and how was that ever her fault? “If it ain’t there, check the cellar,” a cloth was placed over the sow’s head to keep her calm. “C’mon girl. Yer gonna be just fine,” that was such a lie. They were giving them away to who knows who. The poor creatures were destined to end up on a griffin’s dinner plate.

“The cellar?” Apple Bloom silently repeated to herself, and she repeated it in her head too, and as she repeated it she now looked at the hatch door in the corner of the barn. If basements were scary than the cellar was a spawn of Tartarus. Totally a thing out of nightmares. Definitely not a place for a little pony, such as herself.

A piglet ran past Applejack's hind legs. “Dagnabbit!” The mare swore as she watched the pig squeal, running laps around the barn. “We ain’t got all day, Apple Bloom, lest ya want to spend the mornin’ tryna catch the little fella,”

School was in less than an hour, and Apple Bloom was far from a solicitous student, but going to school meant she was there and not here, and even though she loved here and the ponies that lived here and not there more than, well she supposed more than she could comprehend. There was still better than here since Big Mac wasn’t there, and even though she forgave him, and even though it was so her fault, maybe some distance was good for the both of them? Maybe she still didn’t know. Maybe she just rather get this over with before another piglet slips by Applejack.

The filly gulped.

The cellar pulled her attention towards it like a hooked fishing rod. Just looking at it made her knees buck and this sense of dread shroud over her. Slowly, she approached the door buried beneath the wet hay. Lifting the hatch was like trying to launch a barbell twice the size of her body over her head, that's how heavy it was. At least for her. Big Mac could manage to swing it open like it was made of paper and not solid metal. Applejack could manage to get it with one hoof occupied and two on the ground. Apple Bloom broke a sweat, but eventually some of that earth pony magic—that may exist, may not exist since Granny only mentioned it when she was in one of her delusions—must’ve triggered because instead of getting so red in the face a vein could burst in her forehead, the door steadily opened. If Applejack wasn’t so distracted this part wouldn’t be such a challenge since Apple Bloom wouldn’t have to do it, but a part of her didn’t want the help. Maybe she wanted to feel strong for once. Maybe she wanted to feel grown up. Getting the hatch open definitely made her feel that way despite feverishly struggling.

Like a mouth agape, there was a hollow gust of wind rushing through the darkness. An echo in the cellar. A whistle of a giant. A ghost of a pony from long ago telling her to turn back now, and yet she couldn’t. It was cold down there, and pitch black to the point Apple Bloom couldn’t see much beyond the first few steps. Apple Bloom gulped again before taking the plunge into the sea of darkness. Slowly she descended down the stairs, pushing up against the wall so she didn’t lose her footing. One hoof after the other. Steady, as steady as a pony could get, until she made it to the bottom. The filly felt around for the light switch along the same wall she used as support. It was somewhere, it had to be, and already she was majorly panicking when she could no longer hear her sister and the pigs despite the hatch still being wide open. The entirety of the room was thick concrete buried in ten feet of earth and hidden in a barn some ways off a pathway. Sound proof, and unfortunately she would know since the last time she was down here Apple Bloom had accidentally locked herself in. The filly had to suffer through 20 minutes of torture as she wailed, and she pounded on the door, and she screamed her lungs out for somepony to let her out. No one came. No one heard a thing, and if it weren’t for Applejack needing to store a few bottles of cider, there was a good chance she’d be stuck down there until she was as old as Granny Smith.

The light was finally found, and in a rush she flipped it on and it flickered to life. It took a moment, but soon the room was lit up enough to reveal bottles of hard cider stacked on wine racks and some in crates on the ground. A tool bench was on the far wall and a broom was in the corner. Beyond a drain in the middle of the room it was fairly empty and fairly spacious. Fairly spooky too, but to Apple Bloom’s relief she spotted the rope rolled up and hung from a beam off the far left rack. The filly was quick to run up towards it and climb to her hind legs so she could reach, and reach, and reach. It was still too high for her.

A wave of panic surged through her veins as the fear that she’d be trapped down here again caused her to quickly look for a solution. The crates. Of course the crates, but none were empty and most were packed too tightly that she’d have to either waste time plucking bottles one by one or she’d just have to forget it. One crate only had a couple of bottles and Apple Bloom knew it wouldn’t be too heavy to just turn it over and use the backside as a stool, and that was the plan. So as fast as a pegasus in flight, she dashed towards it, pushed the crate away from the others, and tipped it over with the force from her head and snout. Instantly the bottles inside toppled over and shattered, and it poured old cider all over the floor. It didn’t pool, but rushed towards the drain, and left a mess of amber glass in its wake.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Oops,” Apple Bloom whispered as her ears fell flat against her head. Four bottles broken and maybe she shouldn’t have nudged it so hard. The bottles were supposed to roll, not shatter, at least that is how it worked in her head. But what were four bottles to a dozen others? These ones seemed to have gold labels, but that could just mean a different flavor. Maybe it meant they were bad cider? If it were super, duper, extra valuable they would be stacked on the racks. Yes. Yes, that made sense. They weren’t important because they weren’t on the racks.

Shaking her head, the filly decided to stay on track and hurry. Dragging the crate towards the beam, she stepped on top, reached for the rope, and finally snagged it in her teeth. Quickly she stepped down, ran for the stairs, and made sure to dodge the shards of glass. Later on she'd clean it up, or sometime in the far future, or maybe never. Maybe she shouldn’t leave it? Maybe it was a problem for another day.

“Ah got it!” Apple Bloom screamed, presenting the rope in the air like Daring Do after collecting an ancient artifact from a lost temple.

“Now count our lucky stars! I was gettin’ my fair share of excitement tryna keep em all in line,” Applejack raised her neck high towards Apple Bloom signaling for the filly to toss it over.

Apple Bloom threw the rope, and with the sturdy lissomeness only a cow mare could harbor, Applejack caught it and swung it into a lasso before rounding up the scurrying piglets into a stable. “Woah there piggies. Git, git,” Their momma stood inside, head in a trough, enjoying rotten apples. The little ones ran for milky teets and leftover slop. Applejack shut the door then dusted off her fore hooves. “Now that’s a mighty fine job well done if ah ever done seen one,” she placed her fallen hat back on her blonde head. “Thanks for the help, Apple Bloom. Ah really appreciate it,” that same hat was tipped towards her.

With her sister’s praise, her sister’s respect, the little filly beamed with joy. A huge smile spread across her face. “Yer welcome,” and she ran right beside her to see if maybe there was more work to help with. “Why are we sellin’ the pigs?” Apple Bloom asked curiously.

Applejack ruffled the top of her sister’s mane. “Can’t afford to take care of em anymore, sugar cube,” a hint of shame lingered in her voice, but quickly it was smeared with a new question. A change in topic really, perhaps to temporarily forget about their financial troubles. “You never did tell me what was bothering you yesterday. You know if Big Mac spanks you too hard you could always tell me and I ain’t gonna be mad at ya,” the same hoof that messied Apple Bloom’s cherry thatch, now sat at her shoulder. A warm smile shined above her head, and as the foal looked up she slightly sank into herself.

“Big Mac didn’t hurt me,” and it was hard to keep eye contact, so Apple Bloom averted her gaze. It was a really stupid thing to lie to the element of honesty. Applejack had a knack for sniffing out deceit like a bloodhound with a trail. Was it any wonder alarm bells went off as her older sister looked at her more carefully, and she had this expression like she was studying her, and Apple Bloom knew she was.

Applejack kneeled down so they were face to face rather than one towering above the other. “Now you know what Granny Smith tells us about lyin’,”

Apple Bloom stared at her hooves. “It’ll rot yer teeth?” She asked, half hoping that in of itself was a lie.

“No, sweet pea, it’ll come back and bite ya in the tush when you least expect it. I want you to be honest with me, okay?” The tone Applejack used was soft. That warm milk feeling. That comfort. So Apple Bloom nodded in agreement. “Did Big Mac hit you too hard?” And he didn’t. He really didn’t. because he never hit her at all.

So when Apple Bloom said, “no,” it was the god honest truth. It made it easy to look her sister in the eye that time, but hard not to pout, or tear up, or blabber, ‘he touched me and made me feel funny!’. Big Mac was sorry, though, and what they did had to be the secret she held just like Apple Bloom misbehaving, again, was the secret he’d keep.

“You sure?” Applejack asked, and her hoof rubbed her shoulder.

“Yes,” Apple Bloom responded, and she subconsciously tucked her tail between her legs as if to conceal the evidence.

Applejack didn’t say anything for a few short seconds, but it felt like an eternity, and it made the filly nervous. Still her older sister stared and observed and read her body language, and maybe she sensed something, but all she said was, “Alrighty, but the minute he does anything outta line you tell me, and ah ain’t sayin’ this to scare you, ah just think he can forget his own strength sometimes,” and then she gave a brief sigh. Applejack was standing at full height again. Her cow mare hat adjusted more comfortably on her dome.

Apple Bloom didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She didn’t want to ever talk about it. “Ah gotta get to school,” slowly she turned to leave. Applejack trotted beside her. A nod in agreement was exchanged, before she opened the door, and the fresh smell of a spring morning filled their senses. It was hard not to take in a deep breath and bask in Celestia’s sun. A gentle breeze blew through the apple trees. A smile of strong pride was pasted on her sister’s mug.

“You best get cleaned up before you go,” Applejack nudged into her. “Oh! And before ah forget, Big Mac will be picking you up after school. There is something very important going on and nopony can miss it.”

Apple Bloom’s gut dropped. “What kind of thing?”

“Can’t get too into it, but it’s a safety precaution we all gon have to take from now on,”

The bell for recess had all the foals pouring out of the schoolhouse like a living tsunami of rhapsody kissers. Scootaloo galloped, cloots crashed against the sand, and caused a ghastly dust cloud to waft in her friends’ faces. Small wings flapped with vigor, yet they never lifted her chubby body off the ground. A pair of binoculars jolted around her neck, bounced against her orange fur, sat a few sizes too big and looked slightly goofy, and weighed her down. Yet the look of determination never faltered. Yet a colorful smile stil sat on the little pony’s mug. She was heading for the jungle gym.

The farm filly tried to keep up and it should’ve been easy since her deep earthen roots made her more durable and sturdy compared to the other two tribes, yet she was coming in a solid second. She pushed herself forward, picked up pace, and though her legs hurt she still kept going.

“Scoots! Apple Bloom! Wait up!” Sweetie Belle screeched at the top of her lungs. She was huffing and puffing as her legs tried to keep up with both the pegasus and earth pony, but to no avail. Between clenched teeth was a sheet of music. It flapped like a white flag in the wind, her own little sign of surrender.

Apple Bloom slowed down. The need to win didn’t override her willingness to stick by her friend, so she turned to face Sweetie Belle. “Sorry. Scootaloo said the first one to the jungle gym gets to use the ‘noculars,” which was now not gonna be either one of them. Scootaloo already made it to the finishing line.

“But that’s not fair since you guys already know you're faster than me,” Sweetie Belle slugged to a drag. Sweat fell from her forelock. She was already sucking in deep breaths, and they couldn’t have been running for more than a few seconds.

Apple Bloom approached her and wiped the sweat from her friend's cheek and dome to help to cool her down. “But ah thought you didn’t wanna see through em?” Her wet hoof was rubbed in the dirt. Sweetie Belle’s sweat was lukewarm, and that was okay if it didn’t feel all weird and sticky. She had no idea why adults did this to each other; wiping sweat from foreheads. Then again Applejack did a lot of gross stuff, like grooming Apple Bloom’s pelt with her tongue sometimes. Sweetie Belle didn’t seem to mind, but rather cleared away the same rivulets running down her face.

“I don’t, but I also don’t wanna be left behind,” The pearl filly combed out wet kinks in her cotton candy mane. “Plus, Diamond Tiara just hates us more than ever for whatever reason, and I just know she’ll pick on me if you guys aren’t around,”

Apple Bloom chuckled nervously as she rubbed the back of her neck. Should she break the news or keep that push from yesterday to herself? Being honest sounded like the right thing to do, but also a pretty pointless thing to do. It’d likely get out sooner or later on it’s own, plus it wasn’t like it was any other pony’s business—

“Guys! Guys! Hurry! You’re gonna miss it!” Scootaloo was climbing the bars much quicker than any foal could possibly accomplish. Whatever she wanted to show them had to be exciting—and more than likely Rainbow Dash related. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle watched as their friend hastily made it to the flat top. Her fore hooves went up in the air as a sign of victory. The farm filly giggled and started towards her again, when the unicorn stopped her.

Sweetie Belle whispered, “something is going on today,” and her eyes darted around. “Rarity had a talk with me about, um, well…” Her cheeks blushed a deep red. “…about stranger danger,”

Apple Bloom looked at her a bit confused. There was really nothing embarrassing about that topic. Everypony knew not to talk to strangers, so she shrugged and said a casual, “so?”

“I mean not just stranger danger, but what could happen if you don’t listen, and then she showed me a few news articles,” Sweetie Belle’s face burned even deeper. “And, well, it’s scary, and also bad touch is very real and also it happens in real life, like not just as a warning, but like foals get taken and they get touched and taken far away to never ever see their families again and—“ Sweetie Belle hadn’t took a pause or a breath. She kept going and going and getting faster and more panicked as she did. At that rate she was bound to tire herself out.

“Ah don’t understand,” Apple Bloom shook her head. It didn’t sound real, not completely. More like an exaggeration that adults tell to keep foals from misbehaving. “Why would they do that? Where would they even take them?”

“They do it so they can, um, they do it to..” Sweetie Belle held a hoof to her chin. The sheet of music dropped from her mouth as she tried to rustle through her mind for what her sister told her that morning. “I think money, no, wait…yeah. I think money, and I think to places far, far away,” she already said that. What does far far away even mean? As far as Las Pegasus to Fillydelphia? As far as the Bad Lands? As far as the Everfree forest?

“Why can’t we tell Scootaloo?”

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle let go of Apple Bloom.

“You told me to wait and then you whispered, so ah guess ah thought it’s supposed to be a secret between us?”

“Oh yes, Scootaloo doesn’t have a big sister like we do, and her parents say swear words, so she might not understand it too well, and I don’t wanna scare her or expose her to the realities of the world,” That was pretty funny since Scootaloo was more mature than the both of them combined. Her parents traveled all over the world too, so it was likely she knew how far away far far away was. Sweetie Belle picked up her sheet and started towards the cubed jungle gym.

Apple Bloom followed her. “Right,” then again, maybe Scootaloo didn’t know about the bad touch yet. It was very likely, and the stranger danger talk was very scary and only big kids would understand.

As if Sweetie Belle read her thoughts, she added, “Scootaloo only knows swear words, but she doesn’t know about the bad of this world, and that is what Rarity told me—not about Scootaloo, but like I guess in general?”

When the two foals got to the structure they stared up at their winged companion. Her purple mane dangled while her neck was craned upwards, her head was shoved in the binoculars, and she watched the sky. Apple Bloom used a hoof to shield her eyes from the sun. “I’m gonna climb up. Are you gonna too?”

Sweetie Belle found a nice comfortable spot on the ground and sat. “Nah. I gotta practice this,” her body laid on its side as the sheet of music was stretched out and ironed in front of her. Before long she prepared her voice with a steady hum.

Apple Bloom gave a brief nod before hooking her first hoof on a bottom bar. Slowly but surely she made her way to the top. Like traveling down the cellar steps, she took it one foot at a time so as not to fall. So as not to break her neck. So as not to crack her head open. Scootaloo was getting closer and closer by the minute. Her purple tail reflexively swatted a fly.

“Look! If you stare closely you’ll see the Wonderbolts coming straight for Ponyville!” The binoculars were offered to Apple Bloom.

The filly took it and placed her eyes against the lens. Immediately they locked on and zoomed in at a train-shaped cloud. Apple Bloom pulled her head away in disbelief. She gave her eyes a few blinks to get them adjusted to the odd sight. “Woah, how’d it do that?”

“They are enhanced with magic to make them more precise. My mom got them at a flea market in Rainbow Falls,” the sound of rabid wings flapping thumped against the earth filly’s eardrums. Scootaloo was pointing at a small dot in the sky. “Oh my Celestia! Look! Look! There they are!”

“Where? What am I lookin’ for again?” Apple Bloom was trying to keep up, but the bizarre spectacles made everything too zoomed in at times, and too far away at others. She pointed it in every direction; like at Scootaloo which made her look like she was about a mile away despite Apple Bloom feeling the warmth from her body heat, or the very fine detail of a rooftop that probably was a mile away, but looked as close as the tip of her snout.

“You can’t keep swinging them around like that. Just focus on that small point in the sky. See it? It’s the only thing moving right now,” The tone of voice her friend used was condescending. At least in Apple Bloom’s ears.

She sassed her back. “It’d be easier if these things weren’t so difficult to see through. They are useless if nopony can use them,” right after she said it, the spot in the great blue sky was spotted and focused on. Suddenly her sight advanced and she did in fact see the Wonderbolts. Five colorful pegasi in navy blue jumpsuits flew in a v-position with a golden mare in the forefront. They zipped through the sky, a blur to the naked eye, and impossible to keep up with—only the binoculars somehow managed it. They also managed to follow the jets of speed in a near break-neck fashion. Apple Bloom had the biggest smile on her face when she spotted Rainbow Dash, and she flew overhead, and she left a trail of chromaticity at her feet, only she was going so fast that her whole bottom half merged with the stroke of rainbow. The sound made a loud rumble on the ground below. They cut through wind, sliced past clouds, and left lines of condensation behind. The colorful mare gave a cocky grin as she saluted at the foals from all the way up in the air. How she ever managed to see them from so high was any wonder for the earth filly.

“Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness! Oh my bucking goodness! Did you see her wave at us? Did you see it!? Did you freaking bloody—oh no! Oh no I’m gonna die!!” Scootaloo was shaking Apple Bloom now, and screaming, and getting so flustered that she was so going to faint. Apple Bloom’s brain was rattled in her skull, yet she still giggled.

“How’d you see her from that far?” The question was asked through tears of laughter. Scootaloo was fanning her face and really acting like the biggest fanfilly in Ponyville. It was like she didn’t get to hang out with Rainbow Dash all the time and technically be classified as her unofficial, unrelated, awesome little sister. “Plus how’d you know she’d fly by today?”

Scootaloo was still on cloud nine. The biggest smile known to ponykind was carved across her face. Her head was up and it followed the fading streaks of rainbow on the blue beyond. God, wasn’t it gorgeous. “Your party,” she was going to need a moment to recover. Apple Bloom had never seen her this way; so enamored, and sure, Scootaloo had always really liked Rainbow Dash, but never this much. “Did you see her uniform!? It looks so cool on her,”

“Yer drooling, Scoots,” the filly giggled.

Her friend dragged a hoof across her chin. “I don’t ever get to see her after she joined the Wonderbolts,” then she went quiet. The hypersonic band of flyers had long gone, yet her neck still strained, and it still looked at the spot that was once vibrant with rainbow. “You don’t think she moved on, do you?” There was a weaver in her voice.

“Nah, I think she just got caught up with her new job. None of my sister’s friends really hang out with her much either. Life gets busy, that’s what AJ says,” the binoculars were given back to Scootaloo. Apple Bloom placed a comforting hoof on her shoulder. “You still got us—“

“I’ll just have to talk to her today at the thingy,” Scootaloo smiled in response to the affection. She shook her head as if to shake away the dreadful feelings.

“Thingy?”

“Yeah, the thingy my daddy was telling me about this morning. After school we have to go to, like, a speech or something. Princess Twilight and the Element Bearers will be there, and there's a good chance some soul suckers from outer space are invading Equestria and we are all gonna die painfully,” Scootaloo said casually.

Apple Bloom panicked. Soul suckers? That sounded worse than brain eaters. “What!?! What? Wait! No way that’s real!” She nudged at her friend, but half of her hoped it was just a joke and not the reality of Equestria’s fate. The seriousness in Scoot’s demeanor said otherwise.

Well, until a devious grin crept across her face.
“Hehehe, nope. They are as real as walking, talking, hairless monkeys,”

“Those aren’t real!” Apple Bloom playfully tried to balance on the bars and got on her back legs. She fell on top of Scootaloo to wrestle, which the pegasus eagerly accepted.

Apple Bloom had her by the waist and her muzzle buried in her furry back. Scootaloo flapped her wings against her, tickling her wet nose, and causing her opponent to reel her head back slightly. “They so are! I swear I saw it in a comic book,”

“Guys stop! You aren’t supposed to do that on the playground equipment!” Sweetie Belle called from the ground below. She no longer held her sheet music, but watched on nervously. A few foals also gathered as they stared at the two fillies roughhousing. “You’ll fall!”

Both fillies ignored the warning of their friend. It was brushed off like most of the times Sweetie Belle was being too cautious for her own good. Scootaloo stuck her tongue out at her, and Apple Bloom placed her in a light choke hold. Now it was a show of strength. Air versus earth, and when it came to the physical it should’ve been a no brainer who would win, but again Scootaloo was pretty agile and flexible. So even when Apple Bloom would pin her against the slippery beams, she’d manage to squirm, and bend, and wiggle out of it, and suddenly she would be on top. The earth pony tucked her hind legs against her stomach before bucking her opponent off and once again standing on hind legs to try and collapse down on her. Both girls were laughing, but also super focused on getting the upper hand over the other.

Suddenly another rumble fell from the heavens. This one was louder, heavier, closer, and it shook the foals to the core. Apple Bloom stumbled backwards, unable to keep her balance on only two legs. There was no grip on the top of a cylinder, so it was easy to go down, and go down quickly. The panic of falling over came her as she realized there was no surface for her to land on but the incoming ground. Scootaloo rushed to grab her quickly slipping hind leg, and she held on with all her might. She too had no grip, but under tizzy desperation her wings managed to carry her. It struggled but Scootaloo refused to let go and let Apple Bloom fall. The wings wouldn’t be able to keep the two from tumbling forward and crash landing, they could only prolong the inevitable.

“Miss Cheerilee!!!” Sweetie Belle was shrilling.
Apple Bloom’s smaller frame swung in the air. It moved like a wrecking ball, and it was quickly coming closer to an impact zone. Scootaloo tried flying backwards, but it only caused the swinging to grow worse. Before the back of Apple Bloom’s head slammed against a metal bar the last thing she heard was Sweetie Belle scream for their teacher.

A loud dink rang in her skull like a rang bell. They were falling, but the pain was numbed with a cacophony of colors violently exploding in the small filly’s vision. The world became a cruel mockery of fireworks and the abstract. It blended all at once, mashed together, an aggressive hotchpotch. And it was unforgiving, and it was overbearing, and it was more tousled than a bad case of bed head. Messy. Scary. Beautiful.

Then everything went dark.

So there she was.

Under the stars. Under the canopy of the Apple trees. A ceiling of dark navy sprinkled with light. A streak flew across the sky and her mouth moved to say, “look—!” But before she could get the rest of the words out, she caught up with her mind.

She was on the back of Big Mac. His blonde mane draped over the hooves that held him for support. The warmth of his body was beneath her, and again, she felt his muscles expand and contract. He was trotting towards the treehouse, and Apple Bloom knew what would happen next. Play by play, it was happening again. The smells, the view, the pit in her stomach—though that was a new sensation.

Apple Bloom tried to say something, she tried to prevent it this time, but found she no longer had access to her voice. Nothing came out no matter how much she tried. No matter how much her throat ached. A cork was lodged deep, so she swallowed, but still nothing.

Big Mac broke into a light clop, slowly moving towards their dreaded destination. The old tree looked more ominous this time. It lacked that spark, that charm, and now all the good memories she held of the place were swapped with the pain of her brother trying to rut into her. Apple Bloom was filled with chilly panic. She told herself she wasn’t afraid and that she wouldn’t cry, but she was. She was very much afraid of Big Mac. With no voice to tell him to stop she’d be forced to take it again, but as they got closer and as her mouth grew dry Apple Bloom had to live with the knowledge that it probably wouldn’t matter if she yelled or screamed or cried, he would have his way with her anyway.

The orchard was darker now. The trees no longer lit in moonlight. The berm grew narrower. This couldn’t happen, so Apple Bloom pushed herself from his back. She tumbled, rolled, came to a blunt stop just shy of the path of his hefty legs, and Big Mac stopped. His neck craned in the rear of her form and his bulk followed after. Her body was covered in scrapes and bruises, and her legs hurt, but she still struggled to stand up. Pain, nothing but fiery agony, shot up her spine, the filly thought to run. She thought about getting back to the farmhouse and under the safety of her sister, but when she looked behind her all she saw was a void of darkness like whoever was currently holding this reality together no longer bothered with what lied behind her. Like the areas unseen and undrawn in a comic book. The darkness wasn’t so much as scary as it was a nothingness.

Apple Bloom put weight on her hind legs and immediately they went down as a surge of pain told of the extent of her injuries. She wanted to yelp, but found she couldn’t.

“Oops. Looks like ya fell,” Her bigger brother got closer, and Apple Bloom dragged her beaten body away while still attempting to face him. She looked into his eyes, and what she saw wasn’t the usual soft emerald orbs, but two crazed balls both reptilian and goat-like in appearance. Somehow they were a blend of the natural and supernatural, and somehow the sizes of their pupils didn’t sync. The left sat greatly dilated, and the right as small as a pinprick. What should be white was a bitter yellow and it glowed in the dim light.

“Why don’t you climb back on, my sweet girl?” his country accent all but vanished. His neck stretched longer, pulled taut, before it coiled, and it curved, and it shaped into a swan-like ‘s’. He was getting closer and now she couldn’t move at all; not to run, not to drag, not to get away. She lay on her back, and his neck got longer, and it got even longer, and it pulled so long that it alone was approaching her with puckered lips.

Apple Bloom tried to turn her head away, she tried to do something, anything, but her gaze was locked onto this strange beast. He didn’t blink, he didn’t smile, he just came, and he came, and he kissed her. His tongue spread her lips apart. It lapped at the small muscle in her jaws and shoved its way down her throat. Over and over again it thrusted it deeply into her. He sucked, and slurped, and tried to get as far in her guts as possible.

It hurt so badly.

Apple Bloom couldn’t breathe as her chest felt so tight and her heart beat erratically in her shrinking rib cage. She felt the strange appendage wiggling around in her stomach as Big Mac’s hoof was no longer a hoof but a clawed hand. It grabbed the side of her head and forced her to stay steady and upwards. Their lips were forced together again, but this time she didn’t feel that softness of flesh, but something hard like a unicorn’s horn, but curved in an odd way. Apple Bloom couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t struggle, but she was starting to feel so very cold.

So very sleepy.

“One and two and three and four…” someone started counting rapidly. It sounded neither like Big Mac nor the voice of the monster driving a kiss through her lips. It was unrecognizable. Loud. Oozing with strong authority. She felt a new pain in her chest, a steady pressure. This pain was pumping against her, the rhythm following the counting, matching it and aching her heart. The kiss was no longer a kiss but a blow, and it filled her lungs, and it forced her chin up, and it pinched her nose tightly. Her chest felt so bare suddenly. It was like a patch of fur was ripped from its rightful place. The chilly night air rushing against her pricked skin. Apple Bloom closed her eyes shut so not to have to stare into the yellow pools in his face. She was a whimpering mess—

“We got a green light. Positioning the pads. Hit her with 3000 volts.” That scruffy voice was flat. It ceased the chest compressions and she felt something stick to her chest. It burned brittle like frostbites.

A very familiar voice grew louder as it got nearer. It was trying to hide a tone of panic with a mask of confidence. “You guys need anything? Like some help? What do you need? I mean, I can generate a stronger electric flow than any horn—“

“Step back, please step back, ma’am. Clear the area and let us do our job,”

“I’m powered up. Administering the shock,” a lighter voice said from her left. It too sounded vaguely male if not on the more ambiguous side. “Clear!” Before Apple Bloom could begin to understand what any of that meant, a surge of high electricity pulsed through her body. She clamped up, muscles as tense as a board, before her chest jolted and her back arched. The pain faded when the rapid thrumming in her chest came to a halt. No longer was there a steady heartbeat but rather a spasm as the organ struggled to reboot. She fell back, heavy and limp, as if suddenly made of liquid.

Then the kiss happened again. “One and two and three and four…” They were counting, scruffy, sore like a frog was in their throat. Masculine and bearish. More chest compressions. More blows. More counting, and blood was manually forcing its way through her dying veins desperately feeding her organs.

“I’m losing her pulse. Try to keep her head straight,”

“Come on, Apple Bloom. Stay with us,” Another kiss. Another series of counting and pumping into her chest. A cold force held the sides of her head even. They were talking again and she was having a difficult time keeping up. The pull of sleep returned. It was hard staying conscious when everything was cold, and comfortably so. The ground no longer felt like the ground, but unstable like a wave.

“Green light. She needs another shock,” Apple Bloom had goosebumps. Feelings were no longer feelings but tingles, and her body was okay with that. It was scary but it no longer hurt, and she was okay with that. She was okay with this. There was a sense of peace. Tranquility. And she decided she would fall asleep—

“Clear!”

The filly’s eyes shot open. Her body lurched. Brightness. What she saw was pure, white, brightness. It both burned but filled her vessel with molten magma. Like a snowman on the beach, she was melting, and melting quickly. Again, her muscles clenched and they didn’t release their hold until the magic stopped shocking her system. Soon the brightness started to take shape and she saw two silhouettes. Two heads. The shining horn of a unicorn, and a beastly beak.

She gasped, and her diaphragm flattened to allow her chest cavity to expand and pull in air like a high powered vacuum. Tears swelled in her eyes as she inhaled, and it hurt again, but it also felt so nice like whatever lock that restricted her lungs from enlarging had finally broken away.

“That’s it, there you are,” the rough voice cooed as he held one of her hooves in his talon. Beyond him she saw beating wings, blue and majestic. They nearly blended with the clear sky. She wanted to reach out for them, for their rainbow mane and familiar face, yet felt she couldn’t. Whatever force that held her in place didn’t let up even when Apple Bloom started to squirm, and spaz, and violently shake, and she had no control, no way of stopping her body from convulsing. The wail of a siren was somewhere in the background. It was more white noise if anything. “She’s having another seizure! Release the restraints…”

Apple Bloom was underwater now. Words were no longer words. Faces no longer faces, but they had no meaning beyond being smooth waves, blurs, motions. A soup of colors and creatures cascading into utter chaos.

And then it stopped.

And again, the world went black.

“…her heart rate is stable, and the hermetic scans reveal no injury to the spinal cord. She had a brain hemorrhage, which caused the seizures and ultimately threw her into cardiac arrest, but she’s lucky they got to her when they did.” There was a brief pause. “The damage to her brain appears to be minimal—meaning there is no dead tissue and the internal bleeding has been hampered, but unfortunately we won’t know the extent of the effects on her mental and motor functions until she regains consciousness,” again with the familiarities in the voices, this one Apple Bloom recognized well as it was the same one that initially got her into trouble on her birthday. Right now it spoke much more quietly, more stern, and she was reminded of a boring teacher giving the most boring lesson in history. “I ran a few scans of my own, and her cerebral reactions are spot on, so, as of right now, I can safely say she isn’t brain dead,” a few hoof taps broke the sound of her inhale. “Knock on wood, but I have no reason to believe she won’t have a stable recovery,”

“This filly, ah tell ya. When will she wake up? I got a few choice words for her for that dumb stunt she pulled,” the next voice, on her right it appeared, was clearly Applejack. Apple Bloom wanted to gulp but found she was unable to.

“Well, um,” the princess started. “I can’t say for sure. It could be this evening, or tomorrow, or a few days from now. All we can do is wait,”

Another voice entered the conversation. This one she recognized from earlier when she was out of it. “She’s a fighter.” It was much more quiet than usual. There was no high-paced spunk, no highhandedness, rough edges. “Started shaking in my hooves when I caught her. I couldn’t stop it. I…she just wouldn’t stop shaking,” the mare took in a staggered breath. “I could’ve resuscitated her better than those chumps, and I could’ve done it without cracking the kid’s ribs,”

“It was a good thing you were there to catch them, Rainbow Dash. Otherwise Scootaloo could very likely have more than a sprained wing, and I imagine the fall would’ve been more severe,”she then cleared her throat. “But don’t underestimate the proficiency of the first responders. Without their work it is very likely Apple Bloom wouldn’t be with us right now,” there was the sound of shuffling as something on her left moved. “I’m sorry, Applejack,”

“I-I am too. I mean, when I circled back around I saw them…I saw them falling—I saw it the minute Scoots was struggling to stay airborne with Apple Bloom in her hooves, and I was going as fast as I could. I was just—I was just not fast enough,“ Rainbow Dash’s voice wavered but she didn’t cry. Instead she made a gulping sound as if to choke back a barrage of feelings. Apple Bloom imagined her head hung in shame. She imagined she was unable to make eye contact with her older sister.

“Ain’t nopony’s fault. Accidents happen,” the deep drawl of her brother had Apple Bloom tensing up in her sleep, only she didn’t physically feel herself tense. She was reminded of the kiss, and of the strange creature that stole the form of her brother, or maybe it was really Big Mac. Maybe he was a monster all along.

“The girls are outside, and I know Cheerilee and half of Ponyville are sending their love and support. A lot of ponies are here for you two,” the princess’s voice went very soft as if to comfort. The image of her stroking Applejack’s back was as clear as the red of her back eyelids.

“And the Wonderbolts have you covered, specifically me, but you aren't alone in this. Apple Bloom will be fine. The little bugger opened her eyes, and she looked at me and I swear for a few seconds she was conscious and she was aware. And I think… I think she’ll wake up soon. I just feel it,”

As low and as deadpan as a creature with a pulse could get, a voice spoke. “When ah got the call ah thought it was Granny. I’ve been dreading the day but ah knew it would come sooner or later. We all gotta expiration date,” if Apple Bloom didn’t know any better she would think it was a stranger speaking on her sister’s behalf, but it was very clearly not. “Now ah wish it was Granny,”

“Applejack,” The princess whispered.

“No, ah mean that. With Granny Smith ah knew it would happen and ah was prepared for it. Ah was prepared both mentally and emotionally and… But with Apple Bloom,” she inhaled. “If she don’t wake up y’all might as well get two caskets,”

Suddenly the sound of hooves slamming on a hard surface raised the tension. “Don’t you say that! Don’t you dare just give up like that! Didn’t I just tell you your sister is going to bloody wake up?!” Rainbow Dash was screaming and it must’ve shocked everypony in the room since no one stopped her. “What about us!? Your friends?! Your brother and grandmother!? All of Equestria?! Since you know, you do hold a goddamn element! Your sister isn’t going to die, but even if she did—“

Twilight tried to interject then. “Rainbow Dash let’s please calm down—“

“Even if she did! I need—we still need you…”

“That’s enough! This really isn’t the time nor place to discuss such awful subject matter!” The alicorn raised her tone and it made the metal constructing her bed rattle. “And Applejack I really do hope you aren’t saying what I think you are,”

“Twilight, you can wake her can’t you?” Applejack completely brushed over the shouts, and the insinuations, and specifically Twilight’s question. Her voice still came out cold. “With magic? I’m sure there is a spell out there that could easily fix this problem,”

“I can’t. To trespass into another pony’s subconsciousness would require dark magic. She isn’t in a medically induced coma, Applejack. There is nothing I could physically heal, the surgeon took care of that. Sometimes brain injuries, no matter how small, can just…” the sentence was trailed off and not finished. “Look, the best course of action is to wait. She’ll wake on her own, but we must be patient,”

There was silence.

Nopony said a thing or moved a muscle for a while. Apple Bloom imagined they were staring at her. She imagined they were in deep thought, or maybe they thought of nothing. Either way she counted and she got to 64 before she heard her sister’s accent. “Guess we just gon have to wait.” That strong cow mare spirit returned as she sounded warm again. “Hey, ya wouldn’t mind breaking the news to everypony in the waiting room? Bet they’re worried sick,”

“I got you, AJ” The windy drift generated by Rainbow Dash’s wing strokes made the fur around Apple Bloom’s ventilator sway like blades of grass. It tickled, yet the filly couldn’t scratch the itch. “I’ll make sure they know it’s no big deal,”

“Well, not no big deal,” Twilight corrected her. The way the volume in her tone tempered signified that she too got up. “But she will wake up soon,”

Apple Bloom didn’t know when she fell out of consciousness again. There wasn’t much of a sense of time behind the curtains of her mind. For some reason she couldn’t open her eyes, or talk, or signal that she was there and she was still alive. For some reason she was trapped.

But was she alive? Or was her soul just lingering around her corpse refusing to move on? Was this what the afterlife was supposed to be? Would the Grim Reaper find her soon and whisk her off to the great beyond?

The steady beep of her monitored heartbeat, and the mask that pumped air through her mouth and nostrils, reminded her that she was still anchored to the living world. No ghost felt the sensations she did. No ghost knew the smells, nor touch, nor taste, nor sounds. The only thing is she couldn’t state these feelings—this awareness—to the world.

“Wake up,” A harsh whisper drew her attention to the right of her. Normally this would cause her ears to perk and face the noise, but right now they too were paralyzed in place like the rest of her body. It sounded like Applejack when she’d command her to clean her room or do the dishes, only with more fraught. “Wake up,” she whispered again, this time closer.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past two hours. Ain’t nopony gonna wake up to that,” Big Mac, who appeared to be on her left, chuckled. There was a creak like he leaned back in a chair. “‘Wake up, sugar cube!’ Say it like that,” despite the drowsiness in his tone, he used a silly voice to mimic the farm mare, and Apple Bloom wanted to giggle.

The warmth from Applejack pulled away. Apple Bloom imagined her sister raising her head to give Big Mac an irritated glare. She imagined her cutting her eyes at him, and she imagined he had a goofy grin on his tired face. “Why don’t you come here n’ try then?”

“Been singin’ to her all night. Voice is hoarse,” Apple Bloom wanted to frown. Did she really miss that? Did she miss the chance to hear his lullaby? Big Mac had a beautiful voice, one of the best in Ponyville, and she wasn’t awake to hear it? When was the last time he sang for her? Apple Bloom couldn’t even remember. Her eyes wanted to burn with tears, but again, nothing happened. Again, she was just a pony stuck in a statue of a useless, stupid, body. Why did this pain hurt more than the physical pain?

“Just try one more time. One more time, and ah know she’ll hear it, and ah know she’ll wake up,” Applejack sounded more desperate to hear his song than even the little filly. This was hopeful, this was good, since Apple Bloom currently couldn’t voice her desires. Right now she wanted this more than ever. “Please, Mac. I’ll sing with ya,”

They were quiet for a while. Apple Bloom heard somepony sigh, but she couldn’t place if it came from the right or the left of her. She imagined her siblings facing each other, Applejack giving Big Mac the puppy dog eyes, and Big Mac relenting. Eventually his low, steady, voice told her, “Nope.” And Apple Bloom was crushed, until she realized the ‘nope’ was in regards to Applejack joining, and not a refusal to sing. “Won’t know this one,”

Then it started; a melody of deep sorrow, and at first Apple Bloom was reminded of a funeral, and at first she couldn’t help but feel like it was a goodbye. But as she listened to his lyrics, and as her brain started the tedious task of deciphering his psalm, it became clear that it wasn’t a goodbye at all. It was a call home, a plea for her safe journey back to them, and a prayer that she’d open her eyes. Big Mac serenaded, only this song wasn’t a declaration between lovers, but a different sort of love. A love that ran deeper, and she heard her brother struggle to keep going, and she heard the strain in his voice, but he persisted.

Apple Bloom wanted to tell him it was okay, and right now she tried with all her might to get the words out, and she fought against the prison that her mind became, but she just couldn’t do it. She was shackled and left to only see the light shining against her eyelids and the sounds around her. She was useless. She was no good. She was causing her family so much pain.

The warmth of her sister came close again. Applejack rested her snout next to her cheek, and she nuzzled into her, and she cried as Big Mac sang.

“…Breaburn needs the bits for Granny, and she needs her written prescriptions,” Applejack was talking to somepony somewhere in a corner. To pass the time on the rare occasions she’d regain consciousness, and when nopony was talking, Apple Bloom like to imagine the layout of the room. In her head she saw a shoebox, maybe a smaller box in the shoebox, and maybe this small box was shoved in the corner and in this box was a bathroom. So really the room would be ‘L’ shaped, but that was only in her head. It could look totally different for all she knew. It wasn’t like sound could paint a precise picture.

“Don’t worry about it,” Big Mac yawned. “It’s gon work out,” and his voice was as dull and casual as always.

Applejack made an irritated grunt. “Ah wish you’d stop sayin’ that. ‘It’s gon work out,’—that’s a load of fucking hogwash,” she snapped, not particularly loudly, but it didn’t make her words any less harsh. “You gonna wave a magic wand and make all our problems disappear? Cause if you got it get goin’ and fix this,” and the shuffling of a stack of paper replaced her grumbles. They both went quiet, and Apple Bloom imagined her brother backed off for a moment to give her the chance to cool off.

Then the stallion sighed, but said nothing further.

The room returned to silence for a solid minute. The tick of a clock, seemingly to her left, helped to distract her mind. It played in tandem with her ventilator and with her heartbeat. A more creative pony could’ve made a mediocre song out of it. For now she only paid it any mind to have something, anything, besides the silence to focus on.

Apple Bloom counted again, and she got to 267 before Applejack said, “You can’t go to Appleoosa. Granny would just have a fit, and ain’t nothing gon get done that way,” still her voice was low. Still it was cold.

“Eyup,” Big Mac said, a little more gibe than usual. “Best you go then,”

“Ah ain’t going nowhere until Apple Bloom wakes up,” Applejack turned a page.

“Granny needs her meds,” they were clearly playing some sort of game to get under each other’s skin. Apple Bloom couldn’t wrap her head around it. What would either one of them get from taunting the other? “You ain’t being rational, AJ,” He sounded peeved now, a tone all too foreign for a gentle giant like Big Mac.

“Shhhush. Can’t think straight when yer yapping,”

There was a pause, and if Apple Bloom could she would’ve held her breath.

“Best get goin’. The farm ain’t gonna run itself. Been three days since the apples were bucked,” Big Mac, as kind as he was, would much rather distance himself than lash out. The filly recognized it since it was a lesson he’d often teach her. Now whether Apple Bloom listened was another question.

Anypony would expect Applejack to just let him go without much word, but instead a sob fell from her sister’s lips. “Why are you always tryna leave? You don’t wanna be here when she wakes up?” The emotional whiplash wasn’t an attribute of Applejack, at least not one she’s ever seen. If anything her head appeared to always be screwed on straight even under the threat of death or the destruction of Equestria. Now she was deteriorating into a weeping mess.

This had to melt her older brother’s heart as she heard him get up, walk a short distance, then sit again. In her head she imagined he was wrapping his arms around Applejack in a warm embrace, but that didn’t sound like him. Pressing his neck against her own or resting his chin on the top of her head sounded more natural. They didn’t say anything afterwards, but Applejack’s sobs were now muffled as if held against his chest.

There was a knock on the door. Quick two taps, and it didn’t wait for a response before barging in. “I know you guys probably have, like, a healthy diet or whatever, but I got fried oat burgers with salted hay, and I swear this is great comfort food,” the feeling of wings flapping to a halt circulated a breeze through the room. “Stuff my face with this shit after a hectic day of being awesome, and well, needless to say it works like a charm. High speed flight burns carbs like firewood, so the more I eat, the more fuel I have in the tank,” Rainbow Dash then landed hooves to tile, and what sounded like the messiest, greasiest, paper bag was rummaged through. She didn’t address the crying, perhaps not mentally willing to. “I got the giant double decker burger for you Mac, seeing as you’re a growing colt you’ll need all the protein you can get,” another rustle. “The cheese burger is yours, AJ. Got it extra cheesy, but I can scrape some off if you don’t like it,” she then balled up the paper bag and it appeared she tossed it somewhere. “As for me I got the god of burgers himself; the triple oat and barley deluxe with extra ketchup, two pickles, and no mayo,” then she took a messy bite and moaned like it was the best goddamn thing in Ponyville.

Applejack sniffled. “We appreciate this, Rainbow,”

“No need to thank me,” she swallowed, and her voice no longer held its pluck, “I’ve been on edge all night…” another chew. “…and I couldn’t sleep.” She swallowed. “I just kept thinking about what you said, and I guess I just…” Rainbow Dash sucked in a breath. “…I just want you two to really see it in action; see that you aren’t alone. To see Apple Bloom wake up is at the top of my priorities too!” And then it returned, her boisterous confidence and this strong need to serve for the greater good of her friends. “You bet your bottom bit she won’t go another week in dreamland,”

Her siblings went quiet, so quiet that even Applejack’s cries went mute. The filly imagined they were stunned. Rainbow Dash had a way of doing that to ponies. At first Apple Bloom was a bit intimidated by her, but soon she saw a lot of the same qualities she shared with her sister, and it was easy to warm up after that. Plus Scootaloo idolized her and Scootaloo was the coolest foal Apple Bloom knew.

“Granny Smith needs somepony to—“ Big Mac started talking before he was elbowed in the gut. He humph, then promptly went quiet.

“Wait, why’d you just do that?” Rainbow Dash asked, face full of food. By the sound of it she was talking with hay shoved down her pie hole.

“Do what?” Applejack said, and even with eyes forced shut, Apple Bloom could see her lie as clear as day.

“There you go again with the darting eyes. Just tell me. It’s not like I’m going to shoot it down,”

“That’s exactly why ah can’t tell you,”

“Fine. Keep it a secret, but know nothing gets past Rainbow Dash. I’ll know sooner or later,” She took a final bite of her burger. “Like your grandmother needing something shipped to her. Bet I’m in the ballpark, huh?”

“Just hit a home run,” Big Mac commented.

“It’s nothin’. I’ll go eventually to take care of it,” there was silence again as the three chewed on their food. The aroma made Apple Bloom’s mouth water, but all she could do was give a slight nose twitch. Real food would be a dream come true right now. This was tortuous.

As if to move the conversation along, “Mac, you think you can sneak us some cider?” Applejack said, and she was sniffling again. This time she was whispering in fear of any nurses walking by and overhearing.

Nopony made any objections. “Buck yeah!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed with a mouthful of hay. “Get the hardest stuff you guys got,”

Big Mac kissed Applejack on the forehead, and Apple Bloom could tell by the way his snout blew loudly against her fur, and the sound his lips made with a smooch. He’d often do the same with her. Sweet, wet, kisses that filled the body with tingly warmth. He was very skilled at that; being that blanket to snuggle up with. Now she was having a hard time remembering why she feared his touch. “I’ll be back,” he promised, and Applejack made an ‘mmmph’.

It wasn’t until the door shut did Applejack start talking again. “Ah feel like a foal again watching my Ma die from late stage melanoma,”

“I’m really sorry, AJ,”

She needed to take a pause to swallow back another series of tears. “My Pa died a year later. Big Mac found his body hanging. He wasn’t the same after she died, and Granny never did let us read the note he left behind,“ another bitter stillness took over for half a second.

“Geez, AJ. How could you ever threaten suicide in front of your brother?” The pegasus had the slightest bit of anger in her voice. It gave the impression she was trying to smother it down in fear of breaking feelings, yet it was clearly something she hadn’t done often with this particular friend, so the tone just came out wrong.

Applejack was choking on her sobs now. “It wasn’t a threat. Ah meant it,” she was sucking in broken breaths. “Ah can’t handle another one…ah can’t do it…”

“What about Macintosh? If you kill yourself where does that leave him?!” That need to muffle and smother all but dwindled, burned up and left in a pile of nothing. Rainbow Dash was barking her words as if the brewing rage would knock some sense in the farm mare’s head. “What about your sick grandmother!?”

“Ah don’t care. Ah don’t..” Another sob. “…Ah just can’t do it anymore,” never would Apple Bloom think she’d live to hear the day her sister would break down the way she did. The filly wanted to open her eyes, she wanted to tell her that she was still alive, and everything would be okay. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to apologize for being so reckless. She wanted to take it all back.

“Stop saying that! Apple Bloom still has a pulse!”

“What does it matter if she’s a vegetable?” Applejack was delirious at this point. “Everypony says she’s fine but she won’t open her eyes. It’s been days. Why won’t she open her eyes? Why won’t she come back to me? Why won’t she-“ she gasped as if out of breath. “Why won’t she come back?”

Days? Days have passed? Apple Bloom fought with herself, she struggled, she tried to get her subconscious mind to catch up with her consciousness, and tried to get her body to behave. It refused and she didn’t know why. She was trapped in a fleshy box. She had no control. Not of her breathing, or her tears, or her senses.

“Twilight could easily get her to. She could easily wake my sister up, but ah…ahaguess she ain’t a princess ssosheee ain’t worth it,” Applejack was slurring her words now, some of them coming out mashed together, chaotic, jumbled. “We ain’t worth dadirt on her hooves… why’d she wanna… wanna help us?”

Apple Bloom could practically hear Rainbow Dash’s eyes roll. “Now you know that is a crock of bull! Twilight is our friend! Besides she’s the last pony to push that elitist crap. It’s against the law, and as Equestria’s monarch do you really think she can just bend the rules?”

“Yeah, why not? Why not?” She was gasping again, over and over, and it sounded wet and sloppy.

“Because it’s wrong—“

Applejack cut her off as she was getting more flustered. Apple Bloom could only imagine how red her sister’s face got, how red her eyes became, and how puffy the two were. “Ah don’t wanna hear it. Okay, ah don’t. Life ain’t black n’ white like that. There ain’t nothing wrong with reviving a filly from her own head,”

“I’m sure there’s a reason it’s illegal. We just gotta trust Twi knows what she’s talking about considering she was a skilled unicorn before she became the element of magic.” Rainbow Dash put a strong emphasis on the word. “Makes her more of an expert than either one of us,”

Applejack said nothing. In fact she got so quiet Apple Bloom wondered if her sister was still in the room and not magically kidnapped by an ancient evil wizard.

Then she heard Rainbow Dash sigh. “I read somewhere that if you talk to your loved one sometimes it helps to coax them out of it,” and her tone was hopeful.

Still nothing was said. Her sister wasn’t the type to manipulate. She was honest in all aspects of her life, so imagine the frustration a pony would feel if given the silent treatment from Applejack. Imagine how awful and downright bizarre that would feel.

“We can try it. Who knows, maybe she will wake up,” Rainbow tried to spread optimism to her friend.

Again, nothing was said.

“We can do it now,”

And nothing.

“Oh come on, AJ. Don’t be that way—“

The door opened and the sound of hooves clattered against the cold floor. “Somepony got in the cellar. Damn near broke all the good bottles of Granny’s golden apple cider. That’s twenty-five hundred bits down the drain,” a saddlebag was dropped on a hard surface. He got out a bottle and from the sound of it, three shot glasses. “Tell me when to stop,” Big Mac poured, and Rainbow Dash rapidly tapped the table after a few seconds. The scent of rich pulp permeated her nostrils. It smelled of honey, home, and a high quality fermentation of the best apples on the orchard. Apple Bloom wondered if cider tasted similar to apple juice. It definitely smelled very different. Maybe tastier, she thought. Maybe it was tastier, it definitely had ponies acting strangely after a few sips. “AJ, you gonna tell me when to stop?” Big Mac’s deep voice rumbled, low, like rolling thunder.

Applejack said nothing, but she also tapped the table eventually.

“Yer more quiet than me,” he downed his drink then poured another glass. “Cat got yer tongue?”

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “I’m just happy the booze is here,” the words were mumbled, and she too downed the cider. “Hit me with another,”

Applejack continued to say nothing.