Equestria Copes

Applejack skidded to a stop in her living room. Well, her former living room, anyway... Vesper had told her that the pony most in need of her help was Apple Bloom, and there was no way Applejack was going to let her kin be in need.

From the living room, she bolted up the stairs to Apple Bloom's room. She wasn't there. She wasn't in the bathroom, Big Mac's room, Granny's room, or even Applejack's old room.

She finally found her in the kitchen, washing dishes. Applejack breathed a sigh of relief upon finding her sister, but then remembered that she had been called here because Apple Bloom was in danger. She rushed over to the sink to make sure there weren't any sharp knives Apple Bloom could cut her hooves on. None. No broken glasses, no shattered plates... Everything seemed safe.

Applejack had helped to raise Apple Bloom, and she knew she had done so properly. She had been there to see her grow into a fine young mare, and any fine young mare such as Apple Bloom could surely handle doing the dishes safely, even without Big Mac watching her.

"Vesper must a' been wrong," concluded Applejack. "Apple Bloom is fine."

She turned to leave, to go back to Vesper and report that nothing was wrong to fix, but as she hit the doorway, she stopped. Vesper was an angel. Allegedly, one of the more powerful ones. Surely, she wasn't mistaken?

"Then again," she thought aloud, "it might be a good idear ta keep an eye on 'er. See what she does." Maybe Apple Bloom wasn't in danger right this very second, but that didn't mean she wasn't about to be. And to be fair, it was possible that Applejack had missed something. It was safer to just double-check.

As Apple Bloom finished the dishes, she grabbed her bag from the hook by the door. It jingled a little bit, which set her head on a swivel, but upon hearing the silence, gently lowered it down and opened it. Four glass bottles were inside, each one protected by a sock. Looking around, Apple Bloom took each bottle out, rushing them over to the sink, flushing them out of whatever little bit was left inside of them, filling them with soapy water, shaking them, and then rinsing them.

Applejack sniffed one of the bottles. Hard cider. Probably from Big Mac's store room. Why did Apple Bloom have them?

She stuffed them back into the bag and hoisted it up over her shoulder, taking them down into Big Mac's cider cellar. She placed the empty bottles back on the rack of clean, empty bottles. Big Mac had never bothered to count these up. They were just empty bottles, after all. She walked past the brewing equipment, the racking equipment, and the bottling equipment, going straight for the stock.

This tended to rotate as was necessary. On any given day outside of the big cider sales, there could be anywhere from two hundred to six hundred bottles, depending on when the batches were ready and when the orders came in. He would sell them by the half-dozen, or ship them in 36-bottle cases, and the first to be made were always the first ones out.

Every batch was a little bit different, as the apples were always a little bit different, depending on the weather, if they had to be picked early, if they had to be picked late, what pesticides needed to be used to deter swarms, and even their size. The batches were always different in some way, but Big Mac was a professional. He could make the cider taste almost the same every single time.

That was probably the reason Apple Bloom could stuff four bottles of the stuff into her bag without reasonably suspecting that she'd be caught. Each one was wrapped in a sock and placed beside her books, then her bag was sealed, and she quickly made her way swiftly but silently up to her room.

Applejack placed her hoof on Apple Bloom's shoulder. "Now, Ah know we done taught ya better 'n that, Apple Bloom! Ah can't believe this! Ya gone an' stole from yer own family! That's one a' the most dishonest, fool things ya ever done did! Y'all went an' made me all frazzled! You go down and put those bottles back before Big Macintosh notices, an' maybe Ah won't tell on you!"

Normally, such a thorough tongue-lashing would set Apple Bloom on course to correct her behaviour. She could fix this on her own, as long as she had a reason to do so. This time, however, she didn't rush off to fix the problem. She didn't even trudge. Instead, she sat back against the door and just started weeping.

Obviously, Applejack felt bad about making her sister cry. If Apple Bloom was happy, it would make Applejack happy. But she stood her ground. Apple Bloom had done something inherently wrong, and she had to work her way towards being forgiven.

Apple Bloom continued to sob and sniffle quietly until there was a knock on her door. Applejack turned to look at the desk clock. 6:31 AM. Big Mac usually woke up at 6:30, and Applejack would be woken up at this time, too, as he made his way down the hall. For Applejack, this was the second wake-up call, as she had a desk clock of her own, and she was usually brushing her mane at this time.

Falling as silent as she could for fear of Big Mac hearing her, Apple Bloom moved across the room to blow her nose and wipe her face. She then stepped out into the hallway and rushed to the bathroom to wash her face in the sink. Other than the fact that her eyes were red, it was hard to tell that she'd just been crying, and even if somepony were to notice, she could pass it off as having lost her sister. She had a good reason for crying.

"Apple Bloom, ya need ta come clean," Applejack reminded her, putting a hoof on her shoulder again. "Big Macintosh will fergive ya, but ya have ta tell 'im now. The longer ya wait, the harder it's gonna be."

Apple Bloom lowered her head and wiped her face again before looking up into the mirror, scrunching up her face in disgust, and walking out.