A light rain fell silently across the open ceremony. Lost in a thick shroud of trees, the preceding continued despite this. Dark suits and dresses surrounded a box of a recently deceased. At the front stood a pony with a white-collar, speaking words of condolence to each as they paid their last respects to the dead, but for one pony, this bereavement was too familiar.
“Ah never wanted you ta go Granny,” the orange mare spoke, holding tears back, “Ah’m not ready yet.” The gravity of the moment got to her, and she erupted in tears. She hadn’t brought her hat to this event, both out of respect and for the sake of it now being a memory from Granny Smith.
Her friends could only watch. None could try to comprehend the feelings she carried, although some thought they could understand. Applejack was a strong, independent mare, the strongest most of them knew. To see her breakdown was heartbreaking, but it was a natural sense of anguish; Granny Smith was the parent figure Applejack wanted so badly after her parents moved on.
Big Mac put a hoof around her sister’s shoulder. “Easy now sis, she’s in a better place,” he said soothingly into her ear. He was just as upset as Applejack, but, for the sake of Applebloom, had to stay strong. He turned her to walk away, but she stood firmly.
“Why’d ya have to go?” said Applejack between sobs. She could no longer tell whether it was rain water on her face or tears, either way she allowed them to run off her unprotected face.
“Applejack others have to pay respects as well,” said Big Mac, still holding onto her shoulder.
She nodded reluctantly and turned to walk away with him. Her friends watched in dejection as she passed. A wordless melancholy passed for the rest of the service, each pony in different stages of the grievance.
At the end of the ceremony everypony went their separate ways; others still had jobs to attend to by the end of the day, but each pony gave kind words to the family of the deceased.
One orange mare’s life was corrupted by this loss. She had never turned down hard work but, upon returning home, she locked herself in her room for the night. To others this was understandable, but to Applejack it was much more; this was the beginning of a gradual attrition of her psyche.
I’m all alone now, she thought. Granny Smith had looked after Applejack when her parents had passed away, and now that she was gone, tears welled up in her eyes, like opening an old wound, the few memories of her parents passing came back. She wasn’t capable of dealing with this sort of thing, if it wasn’t for Granny Smith she may never have gotten over her parents and now that she was gone, she was totally alone.
She sat upon her bed holding onto her hat it like it was the last thing left in the world, but to her it was her world. The hat was given to her by Granny Smith when she was a filly; it was a gift from her parents for her fourth birthday. A birthday they never got to see. She had so few memories of her parents, most of them were told to her when she was young by Granny Smith and she only knew what they looked like through old photographs of them.
Her mother died giving birth to Applebloom, and after that her father just walked out. He had promised to return but never did. She would wait up some nights and just watch out her window, watch and hope to see him come back to see her as he said he would.
This new heartache was a sickly reminder of the few things right in her life. Her family was one of the few she was comfortable about. She had lived in a relatively indigent household her whole life, but money wasn’t an issue, as she would still far prefer to keep her family. Despite this, it pained her to see those who she valued the most torn away from her as they were once before. It was the idea of being helpless, but to watch as those she loved die from something beyond her control.
She hated knowing that nothing, no matter how much she willed it too, could stop the impending force which, as easy as flicking a switch, could take away all she held dear.
She slept little that night, shifting in and out of a dream of eternal running, running from an unknown antagonist, reaching for her like an absolute evil beckoning her into its fatal maw.
She awoke just before dawn as usual, but felt just as tired as she had upon entering her bed. The pains of yesterday were by no means healed, but despite this, she was in no state ready to refuse hard work. She left her hat upstairs as she came down. It was the last belonging of remembrance and if she lost it or damaged she would have nothing to remember them by. Retention of the hat forced her to fear wearing it.
Big Mac, like always, had laid her breakfast out on the table for her in the morning. He was up long before she was every morning and, to some, she was generally considered an early bird.
She ate the same for breakfast, day in and day out: porridge. She didn’t dislike the meal, but it had been an eternity since she had tasted something other than oats for breakfast.
“It’s the nutrition you need,” the voice of Granny Smith echoed in her mind. She had heard that phrase many times before, and now more than ever she longed to hear it again. To hear a frail voice speak a perpetual line which would, like clockwork, strike when anypony complained about their meal.
She stopped eating her food abruptly. The sadness of the preceding day opened again, tears began to appear in her eyes.
“Mornin’ Applejack,” the golden playground voice of her sister came behind her.
Applejack didn’t want her sister to see her like this; she had to keep up the sound impression she always had. More than anything, she didn’t want to seem weak in front of Applebloom.
“Mornin’ Applebloom,” she replied, refusing to turn around.
She wiped her eyes briefly and smothered her thoughts, she couldn’t handle letting her emotions crumple her.
“Ya sleep well?” asked Applebloom sitting at the table, readily beginning to eat.
“Course,” said Applejack, still staring down at her meal.
She sighed and got up quickly, as she couldn’t keep her mind off the despondent thoughts. Some hard labour will distract me, she thought. She left her bowl in the sink and made her way outside.
* * *
Applejack had continued her work until late in the afternoon, several buckets were, and the day was pressing on. Dark clouds were slowly moving across the horizon of the valley, their shadow fell across the land enveloping it in its hazy embrace. The clouds spread thick and fast toward her, but still gave her twenty minutes, at a guess, until the downpour would be upon her. At the other side of the valley, the descending of Celestia’s sun spread an orange light across the far hills with its long reaching fingers. The trees atop the hill stood as sentinels over the valley, the light shone through their branches highlighting their long swooping curves, posing them like dancing figures froze in an instant.
The bright light shone through the low canopy of trees to the ground below, the path illuminated by its golden touch. The ground was wet due to the recent downpour but had absorbed enough that no puddles were formed.
She lay down one of the buckets at the foot of a tree and proceeded to buck it. Her powerful hooves slammed hard against the base of the tree, swaying the tree violently. Gentle thuds were heard as the apples landed on the loamy earth. A few landed in the bucket, but most surrounded the base of the tree. She picked them up slowly, examining each to see if there was any bruising or damage to them, if so, they were placed in a separate tub by the path. The whole process took about five minutes per tree depending on the trees size, but most were relative to each other.
She placed the last apple in the bucket with a heavy sigh. Granny Smith had never needed to look at the apples to determine if they were of sufficient quality as she just smelled them and could figure from that. Applejack shook her head at the thought.
She frowned and hit her hoof off the tree. I just wish I’d spent more time with her, she thought. In her last few weeks, she had become more ill, but you just claimed it to be a cold, you stupid foal. Anypony could see that somepony, especially one as frail as Granny Smith, was vulnerable to something like that. She slumped against the tree and stared up its branches. The leaves caught the light perfectly; the veins of each leaf became silhouetted in the orange light of the setting sun. In her mind, she thought back to when she found her.
The lights hung low in the house.The passages were always dark in all but the brightest parts of the day. The rhythmic tapping of branches on the window reverberated throughout the house. But for her all else stood still, nothing moved, nothing made a sound, nothing else mattered. She crouched on her knees next to the cold family member. The unwavering glare of those orange eyes penetrated her very being. A lifeless, raw glare with the spark of life diminished behind them.
She rocked her back and forth trying to wake her from her last slumber but to no avail. The tight clutch of death was already firmly grasping the body of the pony she loved. She cried loudly and screamed for help. Her brother came and was reduced to tears in an instant, he fought back Applebloom, but she broke through. Applejack would never forget that face. The face of a normal bold smiling filly became corrupted by the sight it saw, a look of indescribable horror filled those eyes, and soon after, tears followed.
She called the hospital immediately after and requested a doctor. The time of night and the distance out of Ponyville slowed the doctor considerably. She knew there was nothing he could do other than confirm what she already knew was true, but she never left her side. The moment the doctor declared the deceased her heart sank, the words of condolence were not heard, the cry of a younger sister were unnoticed. She just stood there swaying by some unseen breeze. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
Her life seemed to grind to a halt at that moment. It filled her with an empty feeling, like taking a step but finding no stair. A confidence you always count on, taken away so you fall and nobody can catch you.
She sat still at the base of the tree. Tears fell down her cheeks as she recited a painful memory. Her cheeks became matted with the drying of her tears while others still ran down landing on her shaking hooves. Her breath wavered, and her eyes focused on some unseen point above her head. As a family, their protector-their guardian was gone. They were of age to live alone, but all the same they were lost without her. She got up from the tree base and began walking through the densely packed orchard, leaving the two buckets of apples behind her.
She didn’t have to walk for long until she came to the crest of a desolate hill. Atop the hill stood a mighty tree, thick in both trunk and in leaf, it towered noticeably above everything else. A few metres out from the base were two stone plaques, the ground around one still upturned from the recent burial. She walked slowly toward them. Her breathing grew heavier, and she felt her legs become loose. She sat down between the two and faced the sunset.
“Whys it never easy,” she said aloud. She collected her thoughts to speak again, “It just ain’t right.” Only the very top of the orange sun was visible now as it slowly descended over the hill on the other side of the valley. The tree was cast in a perfect orange glow, as were two plaques of the ground. Pleasant warmth was felt in the area as the tree shrouded them from the prevailing winds. “Ah’m sorry Granny, ‘bout everything,” she added, looking at the newest plaque. She closed her eyes and just felt the warmth.
She sat there until the sun disappeared over the hill and the night grew into power once again. A cold chill crept in causing Applejack to shiver. Only the gentle swaying of the tree was heard as the moaning of the winds carried across the land. “Ah just wish Ah could have been there like Ah shoulda’ been,” her voice broke toward the end as another set of tears fell off her cheeks again.
Eventually the dark clouds moved over and the gentle patter of rain on leave was heard. The droplets of water danced over the top of the leaves and jumped down to the leaves below; she used to watch the rain and sunset like this every night when her mother had passed away.
She got up abruptly and walked toward the crest of the hill. “Imma’ come back soon ya’ hear,” she shouted back.
She followed the path down the hill and toward the buckets. The rain gradually became heavier, but the fog of regret in her head caused her not to notice.
She picked up the few apples she had missed and put them in the buckets, then, with a sudden heave, lifted the buckets up and placed them on her back. She had worked all day and, combined with the lack of sleep, she was utterly exhausted and could no longer be bothered with anything.
She wasn’t too far away from her home. In relation to the size of Sweet Apple Acres, she wasn’t far at all, but it was a seven minute walk through the rain, made worse by the heavy load on her back. She trudged through the mud, dark splashes of muddy water licked up at her hooves as she walked aimlessly through them. She cursed softly to herself.
The house was in just about in view now, she began walking down the steep hill toward the foot where the path would take her to the door. She just wanted to go home. She sped up slightly but, in her haste, lost her footing and slipped over. The apples in the buckets fell and rolled down the hill, she was still trying to stand back up when she noticed.
“Ah horsefeathers,” she said to herself aloud. She tried to shrug it off as an accident, but it felt like another loop in her recent chain of torment. She picked up the buckets and moved slower this time down the hill. She was wet and covered and in mud on her left side. She didn’t mind getting muddy, but the day’s events were taking their toll.
Carefully, she reached the bottom of the hill and began picking up the apples. There weren’t too many to gather, but it was needless effort she could have avoided if she had slowed down.
She picked up the buckets once again and made her way to the house.
The door was left ajar. Likely Big Mac waiting for me to get home, she thought.
She entered the house groggily. She could no longer be bothered, and she just wanted to sleep. After a quick glance, she dropped the buckets to the left of the door and wiped her hooves. She walked up to the bottom of the stairs and glanced through the window to her right, Big Mac was sleeping on the sofa. Applebloom must be in her room, she thought. She walked up the stairs slowly. She had memorized the creaking ones to avoid waking anypony.
She felt quite hungry, but the desire to sleep was the most notable job on her mind. She entered her room and shut the door, placing her lasso on the desk to the left of it. Then she fell on her bed.
The thoughts of Granny Smith filled her conscious mind, but the desire to sleep suppressed them. Within minutes, she was in a deep sleep.
* * *
“Applejack,” said a voice faintly.
“Applejack,” it said again.
She stirred slightly, beginning to awaken.
“Applejack!” she awoke suddenly to find Big Mac next to her bed.
“What is it? Too tired,” she said and rolled over to the other side.
Big Mac jumped on her bed, he was a colt again. “He’s here, he’s here!” he said excitedly whilst bouncing on her bed.
She propped herself up and stared at him, “Who’s here?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Daddy, Dads home,” he said with utter enthusiasm, a smile gleaming on his face.
She smiled happily and jumped out of bed. She fell further than she was used to as she was the height of a filly. She ran out her room excitedly, and Big Mac was just in front of her. They reached the bottom of the stairs, and he ran in through the door, he sped straight through and jumped into Dad’s arms. Her Dad looked just like she had remembered him.
She ran through the doorway but got stopped abruptly by a barrier blocking the doorway throwing her backward. She ran up to the doorway again and placed her fore-hooves on it. She couldn’t push through it.
“Daddy I’m here, I’m here,” she shouted pitifully through the transparent wall.
He raised his head to stare at her, but no love or compassion came with that stare.
“Come to me Applejack,” he spoke in a slow and deliberate pattern.
“I can’t daddy...” she pushed harder now. Tears of despair formed in her eyes.
Big Mac joined in with their Dad, “Come to us Applejack,” they said unison, beckoning her with their hooves.
“I can’t, please I can’t,” she said, now tears were streaming down her face. The wall behind her slowly faded into pieces and began to spread across the floor.
Her mother came into view with Granny Smith by her side. “Applejack,” she spoke slowly in a soft and angelic voice.
She pushed harder against the invisible barrier and cried loudly now. The floor behind her began to fade.
“Help me Mom, please help me,” she screamed between sobs.
They all stared at her, all still beckoning her into the family.
The floor beneath her hooves became transparent.
“Please,” she spoke quieter this time.
The floor suddenly disappeared, and she began to fall. She saw all their faces, frowning down on her.
* * *
Applejack awoke from the dream suddenly. Tears were visible on her face. She curled into a ball and rocked herself gently. The images from her dream still lanced her mind. She whimpered as she cradled her broken form. Dark shadows enclosed her peripheral vision, lurching into her field of vision, drawing her eyes to dart wildly around the unlit room.
“Applejack, what the hay’s the matter?” Big Mac burst into the room and ran over to her. He wrapped her up with his fore-hooves and hugged her tightly.
She didn’t respond, she just whimpered but was comforted by her older brother.
“It’ll all be okay...it’ll be okay, I’ll sort it out,” he said soothingly still holding her tightly.
Her ragged breathing slowed with the warm embrace of her brother, but in her mind, it felt like that of her father. The confusion of the dream stirred upon waking faded, and the gentle lullaby of her brother’s regular breaths soothed her back to a peaceful domain.
He maintained the embrace until she fell asleep again, then as quietly as possible, left the room to make a quick call for tomorrow.
* * *
She awoke slowly to the sound of voices. Big Mac’s was one of them, the other she wasn’t too sure about. She glanced over to the window; the sun was up.
“Shoot,” she said to herself. She should have been working long before now.
The voices were coming closer to her room. She propped herself up to get out of bed to start a late day’s work.
“Now you stay there Applejack, this nice young doctor has just come to see you,” said Big Mac entering the room.
She gave a puzzled look and opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t know why this is so urgent,” said a short stallion with a case entering shortly after Big Mac, “And the other thing, I’m not a doctor yet, I’m just a shrink.”
She got up in alarm, “Ah don’t need no shrink, Ah’m jus’ fine.”
“Well from what your brother tells me, I would disagree,” he said without looking at her. He pulled a clipboard out of his suitcase and a book of some sort and sat down on the desk chair which he pulled out.
Applejack glared at Big Mac. “Well Ah’ll leave you to it,” said Big Mac leaving the room.
“Well then Applejack,” said the doctor loudly, still staring at her. “I heard from your brother that you had a nightmare.”
She spoke calmly, “It weren’t nothing serious, jus’ some dream Ah had-“
“Nothing serious!” he interrupted, “My dear the experience you had was a large deal more than nothing serious, you woke In the middle of the night in heaps of tears, unable to answer your brother and you come to me saying it’s nothing serious.”
She scowled at him. She knew he was right.
“Tell me Applejack, what happened in the dream?” he asked, leaning forward out of his chair.
She explained to him the dream, about how they were young again and how desperately she tried to reach him about the reappearance of those she had lost.
When she had finished talking they sat in silence for a moment, he stared at the notes which he had made while she was talking.
“It’s a good thing we found this now,” he said without looking at her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, getting out of bed.
“Well if what you’re telling me is true, then you seem to be on the brink of what we call a depression spiral, and in your case a very complex one at that,” he said packing his things away. “There are two options, one of which is medication I coul-“
“No, Ah don’t do medication,” she said sternly.
“Well a-alright, the other option I would suggest is part of a social trial which has, from what I’ve heard, proved effective in Canterlot,” he said placing down his suitcase again.
“What is this here social trial?” she asked, approaching him.
He pulled out a notepad and began reading it, “Basically, you will be spending time with another pony who has gotten over depression, and through that pony, you will hopefully recover, but as I said it is only a trial.”
“Well who will pony this be?” she asked.
“There’s definitely a pony in Ponyville who did suffer from depression,” he scanned his hoof over a list of name, “Oh yes, patient #119 recovered 3 months ago,” he announced cheerfully.
“Who?” she asked, cocking her head.
“You shall be spending time with patient #119, but you’ll probably know her better as... a Miss Pinkie pie,” he said smiling.
He slowly extended his hoof reaching for the door, “Good luck over the next few weeks, I know that Pinkie is an excitable one,” he said smiling.
“Not to worry, Ah’ve had enough experience with that one,” she said returning the sincerity. She just wanted him to leave. He’d been questioning her for the past two hours, and she had grown tired of him.
“Right you are, I’ll check up on you later this week to see how you’re coming along. Remember the schedule we set mind,” he said with a glare. He took a step outside still facing her.
“Don’t worry doc, Ah won’t forget it,” She said slowly. It was the fourth time he had reminded her and, needless to say, it was becoming tiresome. He was a nice stallion, of which she was certain, but he lacked a certain motivation in his work, she had felt this even through her brief encounter. An ardour for something in his line of work was necessary, even if it was feigned for the sake of comforting the patient, she thought.
“Goodbye anyway Applejack,” he said slowly.
“Yeah, G-bye,” she replied.
He turned to walk away with a brief smile. The suitcase swung from side to side with every step as he travelled down the golden path out of the farm.
She watched him reach the end of the path before shutting the door. She gave a deep sigh when the door closed with a click on its metal latch. She was relieved he was gone, but, all the same, it was a loss of the company.
Pinkie, she thought. The schedule suggested spending four days a week with that crazy mare. Pinkie was a nice pony, she thought. The reality was that she was rather annoying. Moderation in all good things, she thought.
She turned and began walking up the stairs, her hooves tapped gently on the wooden steps as she went. She was rather apprehensive about the upcoming trial. She didn’t mind at all spending time with friends, but spending time with that one particular friend was going to be a gruelling experience over the initial four days.
She pushed her bedroom door aside to find Big Mac standing in her room.
He stared pensively at her for a moment. She wondered what he was thinking; his deep green eyes give away nothing. She had known him her whole life but still found it difficult to read his all but his most archetypal expressions.
“So what did the doctor say?” he finally spoke.
She glanced at the floor then back up at him, “he said Ah need to visit Pinkie, over the week Ah mean.”
“Pinkie, why Pinkie?” he asked curiously.
“She suffered a lot from depression apparently, sorta’ like what I’m supposedly going through,” she replied calmly.
“Ah see your still in denial about your condition,” he said slowly. He walked toward the door past Applejack.
She paused for a moment, “Ah wouldn’t say denial, jus’ Ah don’t think it’s as serious as y'all think.”
“Ah understand,” he said smiling. He turned and walked out the room.
He was right, she thought. He was always right. She almost hated him for it. She heard his heavy hoof fells as he walked down the stairs, when she heard them no more, she fell upon her bed. She closed her eyes and tilted her face upward taking a deep breath.
The doctor had been talking to her for two hours, and she was tired. Most of the questions he had to ask her seemed futile. It would serve no use to anypony knowing how often she exercised, and it was a stupid question anyway considering she worked on a farm and so labour was unavoidable.
She opened her eyes and rolled onto her side. The brim of the hat was visible on the desk. She rolled back onto her back; until she could dwell on the occurrences of the previous days, without becoming overly emotional, she was told not to think of them at all. She knew she wasn’t ready yet, but choosing not to think about something is much easier said than done.
She sat upward quickly. Until her situation was dealt with, all her duties were going to be attended to by a hired hand on the farm. Big Mac had hired him, but she hadn’t met him yet, and she was in no rush too. He was new in Ponyville and just needed a short time job, and this fitted the description. His voice was noticeable downstairs. He sounded nice, she thought. She had never been one for meeting new ponies; besides Twilight, she grew up with most others in Ponyville and was dependant on just them. She was content with whom she knew, but meeting new ponies was unavoidable.
She rolled off her bed and landed standing on the floor as she had done many times before. Might as well go greet him, she thought.
She walked down the hallway and proceeded downstairs. She glanced in through the door. Big Mac was casually leaning against the kitchen counter. She glanced over to the worker. He had a deep brown coat and gleaming turquoise eyes. He stood upright, clearly keen to look as presentable as possible. She looked down and chuckled to herself, in this line of work presentation was the least valued aspect of anypony, the build and efficiency of a worker was all they needed, but she did admire him for trying.
She walked into the room casually trying to look as formidable as possible.
Big Mac tilted his head toward Applejack, “Ah was jus’ telling him ‘bout your situation an’ the timespan he was required to work, wha’ you say your name was again?” he looked back toward the worker.
“Hoeland,” he said quickly.
Applejack walked up to him, “Howdy, nice ta’ meetcha,” she said, wearing a fake smile.
They shook hooves. “Nice to see you too,” he replied politely. “Best of luck with your, situation, my sister went through the same thing a few years back.”
“Well thats mighty kind of you,” she said realising Hoeland’s hoof.
She looked over to Big Mac, “Well Ah’m gonna head over to see Rainbow, Ah’ll see you two later,” she said walking out the door.
Hoeland seemed somewhat relieved at the gesture, but if he was he didn’t make it too obvious.
She shut the door behind her, and immediate conversation was heard again. Rainbow was one of the few ponies who actually understood how annoying Pinkie can be, and somehow the others were blind to that fact.
She walked up the path leading away from the farm; the sun was high, and she realized she still hadn’t eaten.
* * *
After an hour of searching, she came to the conclusion finding Rainbow was a rather difficult thing to do. The cyan mare was by, all accounts, a wanderer, and she would be either in the sky or asleep in a tree. The only problem with these locations soon became immediately apparent, the sky is very big, and there are lots of trees.
She was now walking through the town, word appeared to have spread about her ailment quite quickly it would seem, as already various ponies were staring and gesturing in her direction. She didn’t particularly care what they thought, it was her friend’s opinions that mattered. She glanced into a few of the shops on her way past; she didn’t expect to see Rainbow in there but tried anyway to no avail.
She looked up into the sky to try and find but a trace of the cyan pegasus but was met only by Derpy on her usual mail route.
She passed through the park gates into the open area. The bright midday sun was high, casting small shadows from each tree in the park. The fountain in the centre trickled a slow and continuous melody which could be heard from almost anywhere in the park. A thick iron railing surrounded the park, and, although decorative, she felt it to be somewhat of a useless feature.
The park, on a whole, was surprisingly quiet despite the glorious weather which she expected to lure ponies for picnics and such. The trees in the park could be considered to be Rainbow’s favourite, but every tree seemed to fit the criteria. She spotted the rainbow tail peeking out of the far birch tree on the other side of the pond. She walked over to the foot of the tree; a snoozing cyan mare was sprawled out across its branches.
“Erm...Rainbow,” she called up the tree hesitantly.
No response.
“Rainbow,” she said again.
No response.
“Rainbow!” she shouted.
No response.
She rolled her eyes. She knew the pegasus was a deep sleeper, but this was ridiculous. She turned the other way and got on her front hooves. She gave a gentle buck on the base of the tree with her powerful hooves. A gentle buck was all it took to send the cyan mare tumbling out of the tree landing with sharp exhaling of breath on the impact.
“Ow,” was all she could manage. The wind was knocked out of her.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Ah only meant to wake you,” she said apologetically
Rainbow got up slowly, clearly dazed by the rude awakening, “You could have just tapped me or shouted or something,” she said annoyed.
“Couldn’t reach you an’ do you know how deep you sleep?” she asked.
Rainbow stretched out, and rolled her shoulders to work out the kinks of the fall. “I suppose so, what did you need anyway?” she asked, not looking at Applejack.
“Ah’m guessing you heard ‘bout my, erm...situation?” she asked. It seemed wrong to have to refer to it as a situation or an ailment but it was the only way to reference it.
“Sure I have, everypony in Ponyville knows by now,” she said confidently, stretching out her wings.
Applejack sighed. It was going to be rather annoying having to explain herself to everypony when they asked, which she knew they would. “Well the doctor gave me a schedule to follow for my recovery,” she said plainly.
“Cool, you’ll be fixed in no time then,” replied Rainbow happily already gesturing that she wanted to go and fly.
Applejack was rather taken aback by the ‘fixed’ remark, she didn’t see herself as being broken, but equally wasn’t sure what to expect, and Rainbow wasn’t the best for dealing with these sorts of things. “Well the schedule is part of the problem, you see I’ve got to spend 4 days a week with Pinkie,” she said reluctantly.
“Pinkie? What’s Pinkie got to do with anything?” she asked.
“Apparently Pinkie suffered from depression like Ah supposedly am, and I’ve been told to spend time with her to solve my own problem,” explained Applejack.
“Pinkie suffered from depression? And you think you know somepony. How are you going to manage 4 days with her though?” asked Rainbow reaching the same point as Applejack in the dilemma.
“Ah don’t know,” she said quietly.
“You’ll be fine. I’m sure of it, just focus on what you’re there for, and the days will fly by, trust me,” offered Rainbow supportively.
“Thanks,” said Applejack. She knew she could always count on Rainbow to make her feel better.
“I’ll be off now, I’ll see you later sometime probably,” She said with a smile. The cyan Pegasus crouched and, with a happy glow, leaped into the air unfurling he large wings and with a few flaps drove herself hard away from the ground into the smooth expanse of the sky.
Applejack smiled. She loved seeing Rainbow in-flight, she was so majestic.
* * *
The sun was warm at her back, her long shadow stretched far in front of her along the path as she walked. The trees either side of the path swayed, ever so gently, in the unseen breeze. The autumn was coming, and the leaves had begun to adopt an orangey yellow tinge whilst some had already fell, littering the ground with a golden carpet. She loved this time of year; it reminded her of the close times she had spent with her friends, some of these times long before she had even met Twilight.
The sky was a deep red, darker toward her and lighter in the distance. The thick clouds cast a red glow down across the far hills of the valley in the distance, the sun behind her gradually lengthened the shadows as she walked, and, step by step, they seemed to adopt the darker tone of red.
She distinctly recalled one night she and Rarity had watched a sunset similar to this together. The two had never seen eye to eye, but at that moment, neither of them had said a word. The cordless sun had set gradually, and they had both sat in silence, comforted by the others presence.
Her hooves flicked up dust as she walked which settled in the red lights soon after. She walked slowly focusing on the events of the next day. She would have to keep her cool no-matter the situation, if Pinkie wanted to bake, bake with her- if Pinkie wanted to par-tay-par-tay with her. It’s for my benefit, she thought, be grateful. Even more so than Rarity, Pinkie and Applejack didn’t socialize as a pair. The two were so different, one a hardworking, level-headed pony, the other a partying, near crazy pony.
She chuckled to herself as she walked. At least it’ll be interesting, she thought, with Pinkie things are always interesting. To some extent she was even excited, but nervous all the same.
Tomorrow and the numerous days after, she would be spending time with a friend, a close friend- a crazy, close friend. She chuckled to herself again, she could hardly wait.
* * *
With a quick flick of her hoof, she covered an icing rim around the top of the prestigious cake. It was to celebrate the 1st birthdays of the two new-borns in Ponyville- Pound and Pumpkin Cake. With the pallet in hoof, she wiped it across the side of the cake, smoothing the icing. She applied more pressure and moved it lower down the cake, pressing the glistening candy pieces further into its thick, sugary cream.
She licked her lips at her creation. Many a cake she had produced, but, even still, few could match this one. It had taken up the last four hours of her night, slowly baking the individual layers and cementing with icing of different consistencies then stacking each layer perfectly. It was hard work, even to a pony of her baking stature, but, for it being the first birthday of Ponyvilles youngest, it had to be the best it could.
She let out a sigh of relief and relaxed for a moment, wiping her brow. It was nearly completed; the hard part was done, now for presentation. She gathered a sieve of icing sugar and sprinkled it evenly over the top; it fell down on the cake like snow in the winter, but was more similar to dust descending in the light as it fell. She picked up an icing tube and positioned it over the cake. It would read ‘Happy Birthday’ when it was done, but would have characteristic swirls of that most her cakes were familiar, sort of her signature held by each and every cake she produced.
She carefully moved her hooves up and down the cake, squeezing out the thick icing at a constant speed to prevent uneven parts. This would be the part everypony, even if they couldn’t as of yet read, would look at, so it had to be perfect. She stuck out her tongue in concentration. With a final flick, she finished off the first word. She took in another breath to steady her breathing, something she learnt from a show about military snipers.
She placed the nozzle above the surface of the cake once again and began applying pressure.
A loud rapping came at the door causing her to jump, and almost spilled the content of the tube onto the cakes surface. She retracted the tube quickly and placed it on the bench beside the cakes display stand. She glanced up at the pink rimmed clock, it read 7:10. Too late for any scheduled visitors, she thought, and the bakery had closed 40 minutes ago.
She bounced over to the door. A silhouetted figure was visible through the blinds; they were definitely a stallion, of which she was sure, but an unfamiliar stallion.
Her heart leapt as she came to realized. He must be new in Ponyville, she thought, this is a chance to make a new friend. She quickly ran over to a table and picked up a party popper and a kazoo.
With party popper in hoof and kazoo in mouth, she opened the door quickly.
“Hello mis-“he managed.
She quickly pulled the popper and covered him and his suitcase in coloured streamers then proceeded to blow loudly into the kazoo. “Welcome to Ponyville!” she shouted wildly at him.
He stood still for a moment. A look of confusion set on his stone face, the situation not having quite sunk in yet. The pink pony stood with hooves held high, breathing heavily from her demonstration.
His eye twitched slightly, and a streamer slid down his face to the floor, the same, unchanging look froze on his face.
“H-hello,” was all he could muster.
“Hi,” replied Pinkie quickly, leaning in close to him, “I’m sooo happy to see you, because you were all new to Ponyville and I thought awwww that’s so sad, so you mustn’t know anypony so I thought I’d welcome you to Ponyville so, WELCOME,” she shouted again and gave another chorus on the kazoo.
His expression changed slightly as a warm smile spread across his face, “I thought you might have recognised me,” he said.
Pinkie quickly racked her memory to try and recall the unfamiliar face before her, and, like a checklist, she ran through all 367 ponies she was familiar with, then all 12 she wasn’t too familiar. None of them looked even similar to him.
“May I come in Pinkie?” he asked, wiping a streamer of his shoulder.
She finished the checklist with no matches, “sure of course,” she said gesturing inside the bakery.
He walked in slowly and began lifted his head up, “something smells delicious,” he said looking back at her.
She locked the door and trotted toward a table, and two sets of chairs in the corner of the bakery, “Oh that’ll be the cake I’ve made, it’s the two baby’s birthday tomorrow,” she said excitedly, a wide grin spread across her face as she spoke.
They both sat down on a chair each, he stared politely at her, and she smiled back. “I’m here about Applejack,” he said abruptly.
“Oo, Applejack makes the best applepie, have you ever had it? It’s amazing, better than mine, and that’s saying something becau-“
He stopped her before she could continue, “She’s been having some trouble Pinkie,” he said plainly with a grim expression.
“Oh,” said the pink mare innocently.
“Yes, she’s been feeling very down since the death of-“
“Yeah, I know,” Pinkie interrupted. She hated the mentioning of death, and, if possible, she would prefer to keep the context of the conversation away from it.
He adjusted himself in his seat and pulled his suitcase onto his lap, and, unbuckling the straps, opened it. He moved some papers around with his hooves and began sorting through them.
Pinkie tried to peer around the side of the case to see what he was doing, almost falling off her chair in the process.
He placed a thick stapled document on the table in front of them. She stared at it and began trying to read it upside down. Noticing her concentration, he spun it around to face her.
She read the title at the top, it read ‘Dealing a loss- The companions guide’. She put on a puzzled expression, “what does this have to do with me,” she asked.
“The majority of it is explained in there, but, to put it simply, Applejack is suffering from depression which if you’ll allow me to use an analogy,” he leant forward on the desk and began interpreting with his hands. “Applejack is on the edge of a whirlpool, and if she goes in, it will be very hard to get her out, not impossible, but hard.”
“And how am I at all related to this,” she asked again.
He leant back in his chair. She doesn’t remember a thing, he thought in surprise, 4 months of intense treatment, and this is what has happened. I suppose it is for the better.
He sat forward again. “Well Pinkie, if anypony can make somepony smile, I’d place all my bets on you,” he said with a smile of confidence.
She took the compliment, “Thanks, I will, I know I will,” she said, a smile beaming from her pink face.
“I knew we could count on you Pinkie,” he swung his hoof to emphasis the point, “ she’ll be visiting tomorrow and a few days after depending on how well things go.”
Her eyes were glistening brightly, in her mind she was already planning out their first day together. They both sat there for a few moments in silence as he closed his suitcase.
“If you need me, I’ll be staying in Ponyville for a few more days before heading back to Canterlot,” he informed. She nodded in response.
He glanced up at the clock on the wall, regardless of the time he would say he needed to leave. “Well I’d best be off now, first night to settle down and all,” he said standing up from the chair, “I look forward to finding out about tomorrow.”
She stood up quickly, “don’t you worry, I won’t let you down,” her enthusiasm never let her down.
“I’m sure you won’t,” he said smiling. He approached the door and pulled it open. “It’s been good seeing you again Pinkie.”
She would have responded likewise if she’d meant it, instead, she simply nodded. He began to walk away with a smiling glance.
She finished off the cake and went to bed early that night, all the while checking through her memory trying to answer the question, ‘Who was he?’
