The Blessing: A Second Chance

(the previous day)

Applejack watched as John tended to the graves of the fallen. She and her brother had already buried the dead humans from the crash, but John had set makeshift markers at the head of each grave, and now he was digging up just enough to find a necklace that was around each Marines neck. When he had found each one, he recited something under his breath and laid the tags over the grave markers. The importance of the necklaces was still a mystery to her though.

“What exactly are those things your diggin' up?”

John finished filling the last hole and looked at her. He reached underneath his shirt and pulled out his own.

“Let me show you.”

She moved closer to see exactly what these things were.

“There's writing on it?”, she asked as he displayed his own necklace to her.

“Yes, they're called dog-tags. It's a way of identifying us after we have died.”

She looked up at his face with a sad expression after he had said that. She didn't like to think about death much, not after what had happened to her parents. She especially didn't like how casually he had said that statement. It was as if he expected death to happen to him.

“Does it really happen that often?” she asked.

His face had softened at this.

“I'm afraid so.”, he looked slightly past her, as if thinking about how to continue.

“But, I've never been afraid of dying. I've been sad when I've thought about those that I may leave behind, afraid of not being able to see them again, but death itself doesn't scare me. I know it will happen to me sooner or later. But, when my meter is up, I plan to make sure that I spend my last moments well, fighting for something that means something. Years from now, I want someone to look at these tags and remember my name. I want someone to say 'He gave every last effort, he made that final push. He gave that last full measure of devotion.' I don't plan to waste my life, but when I finally face Death, I will face him with peace in my heart and fire in my eyes.”

She bacame rooted to the spot, she hung onto his every last word. He spoke like a poet, a poet whose meter was already running low. He looked down and gestured with the dog-tags.

“These aren't just pieces of metal that identify us once we're gone, they're our legacy.”

He looked back at her, certainty and fire replacing the pain and sadness in his eyes.

“These tags are the things we leave behind to say 'This is me, this is what I did, this is what I stand for, I will NOT be forgotten.'”

He looked over to the fresh graves. Each one had a simple cross made of branches at their head. Their tags had been draped over them. The fire in his eyes dulled, the pain started to show through again.

“I will not forget these boys, any of them. I suppose that because of this, I am their legacy. Their deeds are seared into my memory, and I will make sure that the world does not forget them.”

She simply stood by and stared at him. She hardly knew this being at all, yet he was able to spark something inside her. She couldn't quite put her hoof on it, but it was powerful. She decided to think on it later.

After tending to the dead, the two headed inside. Applejack showed John to the guest room that he would be staying in. He thanked her and she left him be. She soon heard the sound of the guest room's shower starting up. After a few minutes, the sound of water had stopped and John had made his way down the stairs minus his armor and boots. He was now wearing a green short sleeved shirt instead of the multicolored jacket.

After a quick bite to eat, Applejack could hold her curiosity at bay no more.

“So, you said that you had a story to share with me?”

John finished the piece of pie that she had prepared for him.

“I did indeed, didn't I?”

Applejack nodded in agreement, leaning in closer due to the anticipation of a tale. Noticing this, her new guest chuckled.

“Alright then. But first, I need coffee. This may take awhile.”

After pouring his coffee and taking a sip, John began to tell his tale.

(sometime later)

“So, Ya'll are telling me that we're just a bunch of made up characters on a...” she struggled with the last bit.

“A childrens TV show.”

She didn't really know what to say. She wasn't particularly surprised, but the fact that she existed, and at the same time didn't, in their world sent her head spinning. It didn't particularly matter. But she did have one thing that was pressing on her mind.

“Wait a sec, if it's a childrens show, then how did you come to liking it?”

John looked up from his mug and smiled.

“Well,” he started, “In my world, there is a group of people who call themselves Bronies.”

“Bronies, what in the hay is that supposed to mean?”

John chuckled a bit.

“Bronies, or Brony when you're talking about one person, is a shorter way of saying bro who likes ponies. Most of us are guys who like the show, despite the fact that it's for kids.”

“Well, if y’all ain’t kids, then how old are ya?”

John rubbed the back of his neck and frowned as he spoke.

“We're usually ages sixteen through forty.”

She gave him an odd look and he continued.

“I know it's odd, but it's a good show.”

Applejack was about to say something when a thought hit her.

“Well, I suppose it is odd. But it ain’t any odder than Big Mac being attached to the flank with that doll of his, Mr. Smarty pants was it?” She shrugged.

John started laughing just as she realized that she had thought out-loud. Slightly embarrassed, she raised a hoof to pull her hat over her eyes only to realize that she had set it on the table. Noticing this, John stopped laughing and cleared his throat.

“Well, I suppose if you put it that way it ain’t so bad.”

They both held a straight face for about three seconds before they both started to laugh. As they started to regain their composure, another thought hit Applejack.

“Wait, if the show is for kids, then how did you get into it?” she asked.

“I watched it with my daughters.” John said as he raised his mug up to take another sip.

Applejack's mind exploded.

“Wait, you have a family? You have daughters? We have to get you back!” She was in a panic for John. If he had a family, she had to help him get back to them.

John froze. He slowly brought the mug down and placed it back on the table. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment, and when he opened them, they glistened with tears.

At first, AJ thought he was just missing his family. She thought he was just scared at the prospect of never seeing them again. But when his eyes opened and she saw the pain, saw the sadness, she knew it was something much deeper.

Sorrow.

Before she could form the words in her mind to say any thing, John spoke up.

“It's late, I'm gonna go to bed. Early start tomorrow, right?”he asked sadly.

John slowly got up and walked up the stairs to the bedrooms. Applejack heard the door close, and her head sagged.

'What did I say? Did I offend him? What did I do wrong?'

As she was pondering these thoughts, Granny Smith came down the stairs.

“My, my. I don't believe I've ever seen a creature with quite so much despair bottled up inside him in all my years.” she said to no one in particular.

Applejack looked at her grandmother.

“Granny, what do you mean by that?”

The old Apple looked at her granddaughter and frowned.

“Some people you can jest feel the anger and pain comin' off of, like steam off a freshly baked apple pie.”

She looked back up the stairs before continuing.

“That one though, it's like he's burning. The feelings comin' off o' him are so thick, it's like smoke. I dunno what happened to him, but it musta' been terrible.”

Finished saying her bit, Granny Smith walked into the living room. Applejack didn't even notice the sound of her granny's rocker creaking, she was so lost in thought.

'Could it be?'

That was the only thought in her head as she looked up the stairs, her heart pouring out to the creature in her house that was in so much pain, and desperately hoping that she was wrong.

The next morning found Applejack up early. But instead of the usual restfulness that she felt in the mornings, her head was buzzing from fatigue.

She had worried through the night about John. She wanted to know what had happened to him that caused him so much pain, she HAD to know. But if what she thought was right, and she was desperately hoping that she was wrong, then she couldn't revisit those memories upon this human.

She lay under the covers wondering about this. Grumbling, she finally rolled off of the bed and prepared for the days work. After brushing her teeth and putting her hair bands in, she grabbed her stetson and walked out her bedroom door. Once outside, she placed her hat on her head and quietly closed the door. Turning around, her eyes caught sight of the guest room. It was closed, and Applejack had to restrain herself from going over and peeking in on John.

'Whoa there girl, this human don't even know you. Plus, John's a soldier. He can take care of himself.'

'That won't help a thing, an' you know it. He's not fightin' any of his countries enemies, he's fighting himself.'

Her brutally honest side hit her before she could even take a breath. With this new found truth, she carefully crossed the hallway to the guest room. She put her ear to the door, listening for any signs of activity. When she heard nothing, she turned the knob and gently pushed the door open.

John was nowhere to be found. His items and possessions were all neatly stacked against the wall, and the bed was perfectly made. Applejack was starting to worry until she saw that his boots were gone.

'Maybe he went for a walk?'

She left the room as she found it. Closing the door, she made her way downstairs and out of the house. Stepping out onto the porch, she took a deep breath of the crisp early morning air. Satisfied, she made her way to the next row of trees to be harvested for the day. Yesterday, Big Mac had set out the carts and baskets that she would need to collect the apples in. This meant that she could get straight to work.

As she trotted towards the cart, movement caught her eye. She slowed down to a cautious walk as she neared. She rounded the carts edge to see John. She was a bit surprised at what state he was in, though.

He was doing push ups, but he was using the cart and two of the baskets as props. He had his feet on the cart, and his right and left hands each had a basket underneath them. She watched, fascinated, as his chest went well below his hands and back up. He did this over and over again, like a machine. Suddenly, he came to a stop and placed his feet back on the ground. He took a few steps forward before jumping up and grabbing one of the branches of a nearby tree. Again, Applejack stood rooted to the spot as she watched John lift his body up and down, over and over again. She counted to twenty before John came back down to the ground again. His shirt was soaked through with sweat, yet he looked as though he was getting ready for yet another exercise.

“I'm about to go for a run, would you like to join?” he asked with his back turned.

Applejack yelped and fell over when John spoke. She didn't think that he knew she was there. When she managed to get back on her hooves, John was turned toward her and smiling.

“H-how in the hay did...”she stammered.

“The crickets stopped chirping, so I looked underneath myself while I was doing pushups. I saw four orange legs from under the cart, so I figured it was you and kept on going.”

She was amazed at how aware of his surroundings he was. She wondered how he learned to do that.

“Also, you started to count out loud while I was doing pull ups.” he said with a chuckle.

She felt a little embarrassed, it seemed to her that she said a lot of things out loud when she was around him. Why didn't her mind work right when she was around him?

“So, about that run?” he asked.

“Sure, I'll run with ya, jest as long as it doesn't take too long, I gotta start work soon.”

“Okay, how long does it take you to run a mile?”

Applejack thought for a moment.

“Bout' four minutes.”

John rubbed the back of his neck.

“Okay then. Well, it's gonna be a run for me, and maybe a light trot for you.”

Applejack looked puzzled.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, humans aren't made for speed.” he pointed at his legs, “We're built for endurance. Your faster than me 'cause you have four legs to my two. It takes me about seven and a half minutes to run a mile, and I'm in shape.”

Applejack chuckled a bit.

“Sure, I'll go for a 'walk' with you.” she teased.

John just shook his head and began to jog. Applejack kept up at a slight trot and looked up at him.

“Don't ya need to stretch or somethin', I'd hate for you to pull a muscle on this 'walk'.” she poked again, chuckling.

John smirked.

“S'okay, I've already ran six miles.”

Applejack stopped chuckling at her jokes after she heard this. Ponyville was only three miles from her farm, John had run there and back again twice.

'How long has he been up?' she thought.