The cold nipped at every part of Sunset’s face.
She'd been invited over to Applejack’s house for the holidays, and despite her reservations, she accepted the invitation. Inside was a warm fire, and even warmer company, but that warmth sat above a bitter draft.
Somehow, the frigid climate outdoors brought her more comfort. Inside, there was doubt. Outside, there was honesty.
It was her problem, though. Everything was fine. Her friends were her friends again, the school knew it wasn’t her who ran that stupid blog, and everything had returned to normal. There was nothing wrong anymore, so there was no longer a need to be upset.
But she couldn’t help it.
How could she? Sunset spent months proving to everyone that she was capable of change, and in the span of a few short days, all that progress had fallen out from underneath her through no fault of her own.
Sure, everyone had realized the truth, but that didn’t mean anything to her. That didn’t change the fact that no one would believe her. That didn’t change the fact they had no reason not to believe her. That didn’t change the fact that she’d spent days in isolation, shambling around the school looking as empty as she felt, and not once did anyone give her the benefit of the doubt. All the way until the end, everyone only assumed the worst.
It was actually amazing how stupid it all was. How was it not plainly obvious to everyone? The entire blog itself was so idiotically designed, and that should have made it clear as day to anyone that it wasn’t her. If Sunset were really running it, why would she set up the blog to look like her? Wouldn’t she try to maintain some semblance of anonymity? Did everyone think she was an evil mastermind or that she was cartoonishly dumb? It couldn’t be both.
Sunset sighed and stared into the distance, leaning against a tree that lined the end of the Apple family’s property. The wind blew lightly, powdered snow swirling and sweeping through the untouched plain of white in front of her.
These thoughts were cyclical. Once she started, Sunset couldn’t stop herself, and they’d spun in her mind every day, every hour since it had all been resolved. She knew she should just stop, but she just couldn’t.
Go back inside, she thought. Someone’s going to come looking for you, and then you’re going to have to explain everything, and you know you’re not going to be able to hold it in. You were lucky to be given a second chance—even luckier to get a third—you can’t fuck this up again.
She nodded in agreement with her inner self. Moping around during a holiday—one she’d been expressly invited to as a show of no hard feelings—was bad optics. It was time for grace, gratitude, and getting over not just what happened, but herself.
Yet Sunset didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her boots were rooted in the several inches of snow she stood in. Her mind told her to get moving, but her heart wouldn’t budge.
“Sky looks real nice this evenin’,” Applejack called from a few yards away.
Shit, Sunset cursed to herself. If anyone was going to come after her, I guess Applejack made the most sense.
“I don’t know if I’d call 4 PM “evening”,” Sunset replied, not bothering to turn around.
Applejack chuckled. “Far as I’m concerned the whole season’s evenin’.”
Sunset tilted her head in acknowledgement, continuing to look ahead. Applejack got closer, the sound of her boots crunching in the snow getting closer until she was a few feet behind her.
“Sorry if this ain’t quite what it’s like in Equestria.”
Sunset shrugged. “Don’t sweat it, this is fine. Besides, it’s not like I really know what it’s like there either.”
AJ frowned. “Y’ain’t still mad about the whole anon-a-miss thing, are ya?”
Several seconds ticked by. Sunset didn’t move an inch. It was like the question hadn’t even registered with her.
“If you are, I can’t say I blame you.”
A thousand different responses ran through Sunset’s mind, most of which were accusatory remarks or loaded questions. The bubbling bitterness inside her finally had an outlet, and yet, despite the opportunity to finally let it out, she abstained.
“If I was, it’s not like I have a reason to be anymore. Right now, I just want to be alone more than anything.”
“Any reason why?”
“Do I need one?”
“Well, if you ain’t mad, there’s gotta be some reason you’re freezin’ your ass off out here by yourself. And, no offense, I don’t want you freezin’ to death on my property—we’re runnin’ outta places to bury bodies out here.”
Sunset let out a pity laugh. She was more annoyed than entertained by Applejack’s comment. Her attempt at humor was still insistence, and knowing how stubborn AJ could be, it was pretty clear she wasn’t going to let this go.
Suppressing a groan, she decided to give a little explanation, and hoped that was enough for Applejack to go away.
“I don’t know. I guess it just feels weird—like, after everything, being over here feels weird. A few days ago, I was back to having nothing, but today, everything’s gone back to the status quo; and I should just accept that and move on like everyone else seems to have.” She sighed, the vapor from her breath glistening in the setting sun before dissipating. “But I can’t, and I don’t know why.”
“Well, I can see why that’d bother you,” Applejack began with a momentary pause. “That don’t make a whole lotta sense.”
Sunset finally turned around, an inquisitive look on her face.
“I mean, after everythin’ happened, we kept apologizin’, but you kept sayin’ you just wanted to forget this ever happened. But now you’re sayin you can’t move on, but you ain’t mad. Which is it?”
Eyes fixed to the ground, Sunset realized Applejack had a point. She wanted to move on from this; to return to the sense of normalcy she’d grown accustomed to for the first time in her life. That meant she had to move with everyone else. That meant no more apologizing. That meant letting go of the lingering sense of anxiety.
So why couldn’t she?
“You mind if I take a shot in the dark?” asked Applejack.
Sunset looked up. A blink, then a slow nod.
Applejack looked down, marching a couple steps through the snow until she was standing side by side with Sunset, gazing out into the untouched field beyond the property line.
“I think you’re still hurtin’, and you’re tryin’ to nurse that wound all by yourself, and it ain’t workin’—at least not as fast as you’re wantin’ it to.”
“…Okay.”
Sunset was growing a bit uncomfortable. Not only was that observation completely obvious, but she wasn’t a fan of being psychoanalyzed as it were. Even after her “reformation,” she did her best to keep everyone at a comfortable distance. That meant she rarely expected anyone to understand her, but that’s how she preferred it—especially after everyone turned on her so suddenly.
“You said you ain’t ever been close with your folks, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you ain’t ever been that close to anyone since you been here, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“Right,” she affirmed. “I ain’t tryin’ to sound like I’m pityin’ you, but I felt real bad after you told me that. So, that’s why we all got together and planned those sleepovers. Couple of us were still a mite wary of you, but after you told me that, things started makin’ a lot more sense.”
Sunset leaned against the tree next to her, her head tilting until it was resting right below a dead branch. Maybe Applejack said this wasn’t pity, but it sure felt like it, and she was on the verge of tuning out entirely.
“I remember when you came to the first one, you were checked out at first—a bit like you are right now.”
Sunset turned her attention to Applejack, a smirk on the other girl’s face. She responded with a bashful grin before returning her gaze to the field.
“But after a little bit, you eased in, and we all had a lotta fun—it was a good time. And I could tell you thought so too—ain’t no way you could convince me otherwise. We mighta only known each other for a little while, but we hadn’t been close before then. But I think that night at Pinkie Pie’s—that’s the night you really got to know us, and the night at Rarity’s we had right after is when we got to know you.”
A quiet exhale was Sunset’s only acknowledgement. She was right—before that night, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d relaxed like that around anyone—but that did nothing to make her feel any better. If anything, it made everything hurt worse.
“So, if you felt like you knew me, why didn’t you believe me when I told you I wasn’t running that stupid blog?”
“I did.”
Sunset shot her a contemptuous glare.
“Well, I did at first.”
“Until you didn’t.”
Applejack nodded. “Eyup, sounds about right.”
Sunset squinted at her. “So, what changed? If you felt like you got to know “the real me” or whatever, what made you change your mind the very next day? That’s bullshit, Applejack.”
Applejack shrugged. “Put yourself in my shoes for a minute: it’s a bit hard to argue with hard evidence, don’t you think? I mean, it ain’t like I wanted to believe that was you or nothin’, but how could I have known what Sweetie Belle had done ‘til she told me?”
A cloud of vapor shot from Sunset’s nostrils as she exhaled sharply, looking away with a scowl on her face.
“Whacha want me to say?”
Sunset didn’t respond.
“You want me to say it was stupid? ‘Cause it was—I know it was, I own it.”
Sunset still didn’t respond.
“You want me to say I’m sorry again? ‘Cause I am. You want me to say I feel downright awful for all we put you through when you hadn’t even done nothin’? Cause I do. You want me to tell you that you didn’t deserve none of that? ‘Cause–”
“I want you to leave me alone,” Sunset snapped, stomping away and intent on putting as much distance between her and Applejack as she could.
“I don’t think you really want that,” Applejack replied calmly.
Sunset growled in frustration before whipping back around. “And I don’t think you know a damn thing about me!”
“You’re right. There’s a lot more I don’t know ‘bout you than I do, but how you act tells me a lot more about you than you might realize.”
“Oh would you cut the shit already? Stop trying to pick apart my brain. You don’t know me—no one does—and that’s how I want it. Thanks for inviting me, but I’m out.”
Despite Sunset’s flagrant hostility, Applejack’s resolve remained unshaken.
“Before you go, can I relay somethin’ personal?”
Sunset continued to scowl in place of an answer.
“When I’m done, if you still think I’m fulla shit, I won’t keep you any longer, but I never finished takin’ my shot in the dark.”
Despite the urge to leave and never talk to her again, Sunset found herself unable to move once more. Even though there was a much larger part of her that wanted to shout “fuck off” and then leave, the smaller part of her willing to listen to Applejack somehow won her over. With a sigh of resignation, Sunset attempted to push the frustration out of her body; at least for as long as she could.
“Fine.”
Applejack took a few steps toward Sunset until they were face to face.
“This ain’t exactly the same as what you went through, but just bear with me and hopefully it’ll all make sense.”
Sunset rolled her eyes, but nodded just the same. Applejack took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“When I was young, I was real attached to my mama. Like, I remember when she dropped me off for my first day of kindergarten, I clung to her leg for dear life and begged her not to leave. I wasn’t really afraid of nothin’—at least as far as I can remember—we were just that close, and I didn’t want her to leave. Even after I got over that, even after I made some friends at school, I was still overly attached. I never could open up to anyone else like I could her.”
“And I know that ain’t unique to me—plenty of kids get like that with their parents—but it’s important to what I’m trying to say. ”
A deep sigh, a pause. “I was nine when both my parents passed.”
Sunset’s expression softened further. Applejack continued.
“When they did, I had to be strong. Applebloom was still real young, me and Big Mac didn’t get along all that great at that time, and I ain’t ever seen granny as tore up as she was, so I didn’t really feel like I had anyone to turn to like I did my mama. And once I saw them movin’ on, I took that as a sign that I needed to as well, and I tried.”
Applejack looked away, swallowing a lump in her throat as she did.
“And I tried, and tried, and tried. But I couldn’t. And worst of all: I was foolin’ everyone but myself. Everyone kept tellin’ me how sorry they were, and I’d just tell ‘em I just wanted to keep movin’ just so they’d leave me alone. And even then, I couldn’t tell you the amount of times I heard how strong and brave I was, or how many family members kept tellin’ me how I was so mature for handlin’ it the way I did. And you’d figure that’d make me feel good, right?”
She solemnly shook her head. “Made me feel like shit. There I was, heart bleedin’ out, but I’d lost the one outlet I felt I had, so what was I gonna do? There wasn’t no one who could replace my mama. There wasn’t no one in this world who’d have been able to understand me the way she did.
“So I closed up. ‘Cause even if I did find someone I could open up to, they could be gone in a heartbeat just like her, and I couldn’t go through that again.”
Sunset found herself growing uncomfortable again. Had she known Applejack was going to bear her soul like this to her, she would have chosen to storm off anyway. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the gesture; she just didn’t really know what to say, or how any of this pertained to her.
“AJ, I don’t mean to interrupt, and I appreciate you sharing something this personal with me, but… why are you telling me this?”
Applejack chuckled half-heartedly. “It’ll make sense in a minute, but thanks for lettin’ me know you’re listenin’.”
That kind of non-answer caused Sunset to purse her lips, annoyed and confused, but she bit her tongue and let Applejack continue.
“Few months after that, me and Big Mac got into a huge argument over somethin’—can’t remember what anymore—and I locked myself in my room the whole day. Eventually, he came and apologized, and I tried to tell him I was over it, but he wasn’t buyin’ it. And he kept pryin’, and pryin’, and I got so fed up and said some foul, hurtful shit to him.”
Applejack looked upward at the darkening sky, the falling sun being chased by rolling dark clouds, the night descending even faster than it usually came during this time of year.
“I told him I hated him—that I wished he was gone instead of mom and dad. And if he’d went and told granny, I’d have gotten my butt cut for sure. And hell, he’d have been within his right to do so.
“But he didn’t. At first, he didn’t even react. He just sat down next to me and said “I know you don’t mean none of that,” and that made me madder than hell. I kept spewin’ vitriol at him, but he just kept sittin’ there an listenin’. I can’t even remember all I said, I just know I was yellin’ a mile a minute, but he wasn’t movin’ a muscle.
“And when I finally stopped, he just looked at me and said “you been holdin’ that in for a while, haven’t you?” And that’s when it all clicked for me.”
Sunset stood in stunned silence. She hadn’t known Applejack for that long, but all of that sounded so unlike her that she almost couldn’t believe it. Had it not been for her sincere tone, and the occasional choke in her voice, she might not have.
“My point in tellin’ you all that is: I may not know where you’re at, but that don’t mean I can’t relate in some way. You told me yourself you ain’t ever been that close to anyone—at least not until recently. But then, one day, when you finally have that connection, the rug comes out from underneath you, and you damn near lose everything on the way down.
“And here we are now; you’re still hurtin’, but you’re convincin’ everyone you’re fine and you’re movin’ on when you ain’t. But you don’t want no one gettin’ close, and I bet it’s ‘cause you’re afraid they could be here now, and gone again tomorrow.”
Applejack closed the gap between them, placing her hand on Sunset’s shoulder. “But you see, the biggest difference between what happened to me and what happened to you is that… well, we’re all still here. And as long as we can help it, we ain’t goin’ anywhere. You might have almost lost it all over somethin’ dumb as shit, but you didn’t. You can still have what we had before and thensome—not just ‘cause we owe it to you, but because it’s what you deserve. You just gotta let us in.”
A hand on the shoulder became a full on embrace. Sunset didn’t move at first, but found herself sinking into Applejack’s warmth. It was a novel feeling for Sunset, but far from unwelcome. Her arms found themselves around Applejack as well, and when they did, she found herself not wanting to let go.
Eventually, Applejack pulled away, and Sunset followed. When their eyes met again, Applejack was wearing a wide smile.
“That all make sense?” she asked.
Sunset slightly nodded. “Yeah, it… it did. Thanks, AJ, and… I’m sorry you went through that.”
AJ smirked and rolled her eyes. “Come on, now. You ain’t gonna start heapin’ platitudes on me after I just complained about that very same thing, are you?”
Sunset chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Though, I should still apologize for snapping, and moping around while everyone else is trying to have a good time.”
She shook her head. “You ain’t got nothin’ to apologize for, Sunset. It’s okay to feel a certain type of way when you’re hurtin’, and ain’t none of us expectin’ you to stop for our sake; only when you’re ready.”
For the first time in a while, Sunset felt her lips curl into a genuine smile.
“Speakin’ of ready, I don’t reckon you’re ready to head back in? We ain’t got but a few minutes of daylight left, and it’s already colder than a witch’s titty out here.”
Sunset’s eyes darted in a few different directions. She almost compulsively apologized again, this time for threatening to leave, but pushed the urge away. After a few brief moments, she settled on an answer.
“Actually, I’d like to have just a couple more minutes alone. But I’ll be back in soon.”
“Take your time, but not much longer, alright?”
“Don’t worry, I know your makeshift cemetery has a low vacancy, I remember.
Applejack chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. “See you inside.”
Applejack marched through the snow back into her house. Sunset found her way over to the property line once more, taking her position against the same tree as before.
As cathartic as that talk was, it was underlined by an unshakeable melancholy. This was the kind of moment where she should have had an epiphany—the moment in which everything should have “clicked” like it had for Applejack years ago. But for some reason, as she stared out into the field of white, she couldn’t help but feel like it hadn’t clicked yet.
She had taken everything Applejack had said to heart. That should have been the balm she’d been looking for, shouldn’t it? But it wasn’t. The wound was still open, and it bled all the negative emotions she couldn’t rid herself of. But maybe that wasn’t how it was supposed to work.
Maybe there was no panacea for the things that ailed her; no magic words that would cause her anger, doubt, and anxiety to vanish in an instant. Maybe it would be a while before she could manage to move on from this.
And maybe that was okay.
Author's Note
This idea randomly came to me a few days ago. I got the inspiration for it from the cover image.
My personal feelings toward anon-a-miss are probably not a secret after reading this. I think it's pretty ass, but not for the reasons most people tend to. A lot of criticism levied toward it focuses on how poorly it treats Sunset, and while I can agree with that, I also think that it's overall not good for a variety of reasons I won't get into here.
At one point, I promised myself I'd never write anything referencing the comic because it's been done to death and back and death again—usually by authors who have an almost concerning lust for "revenge" or just want to write borderline misery porn—but the trauma of abandonment is something I have an emotional connection to, and the plot in that comic provided a useful jumping off point for this.
Hope you enjoy!
