Just in Timeby GjallarFoxChaptersJust in TimeHeroSaviorJust in TimeJust in Time I trotted along my weekend trip to Ponyville market, buying supplies like flour for the family. There were only seven clouds in the sky, each one drifting lazily along, left there by the weather team. Celestia's sun shone mighty bright, its warmth making it feel like summer just a month too early. As hustle-and-bustle as the marketplace was, all was tranquil that morning. At least, that was as calm as I'd ever be. I smiled with no good reason as I finagled my way through the hordes of ponies in the crowded bazaar. There was a natural music about the place that morning. The faint jingle of a pouch-full of bits, the percussive clopping of hooves on the ground, and the dull roar of ponies haggling with shopkeepers for better deals... All were present that day. I gazed up at the sky, seeing seven sloth clouds drifting like flotsam on the ocean. I even saw a large moving wagon being pulled across the sky by local pegasi. I half expected to see Rainbow trailing as a fall-guard, but was not surprised by the lack of said pony. I sat down on a nearby fountain's edge, taking a moment to relax. I watched everypony go about similar business to mine, getting supplies for their respective families. I saw familiar faces like Lyra and Bon Bon, as well as Nurse Redheart, who looked mighty strange without her nurse’s uniform. Many ponies waved a friendly ‘good morning’ to me as they passed, some of which I didn’t even recognize. I just smiled and waved back. After about half an hour of sitting on the fountain, I decided it would be best to head home and drop off the supplies. I stood up slowly so as to not Charlie-horse my knees, and headed off at a light canter. A light shadow passed overhead. I paid no heed. “Heads up!” somepony hollered at me. I looked up, seeing a grand piano on its way down, having fallen from the moving-wagon I’d seen earlier. Every muscle in me froze in place as though accepting the cruel fate before me. Move… I mentally screamed at myself. Move, dammit! Move! Move! Somehow, I moved. But I wasn’t the one moving. I caught a glimpse of a stallion roughly my age by looks, shoving me out of the way with a forceful tackle. His forehooves slammed against my side with enough force to crack one of my ribs and send me flying sideways ten feet. I grimaced as I scraped against the dirt streets, a stinging sensation tingling up my spine. I forced the pain to subside, and looked back at the offender. And that was the first I really saw that stallion. He was a pale cobalt blue stallion with a brown mane, who at first glance looked like a unicorn. Upon his forehead was a steel-gray horn, which at that moment was glowing with an emerald aura. But as I looked closer, I saw that he was no unicorn at all. The steel-gray horn on his head was secured upon his face by means of a leather set of straps. A few wires and disc things attached to his face and neck at random places. Upon second glance, he appeared to be a pegasus wearing a mechanical horn. His wings were flared out, casting a rather majestic if not intimidating shadow. But again, I had to look closer. His wings were also false, secured to him by means of more leather straps. Each wing was made of four little strips of leather, held taught by a long bent plate of metal. They both were fastened to the main harness on his back, which was laced with more wires and discs. I was about to bite my tongue to see if I was dreaming all of this when I saw the pony’s cutie mark, partially hidden by a disc attached to his flank: A pair of steel gears. Well that’s a new one. I winced slightly as I pulled myself to my hooves, the familiar “I just don’t know what went wrong,” from Derpy above hitting my ears. I looked at the strange pony, managing to catch his steel-gray eyes. He set the piano down with his magical grasp, giving me an incredibly derpy smile before taking off and flying away without a word. I stood there, staring at where the nameless hero once stood for a good four minutes, my mind rushing to catch up with what was going on. “Are you alright, AJ?” the familiar voice of Rarity snapped my to reality. “What happened?” I shook my head clear, trying to form words. “Yer guess is as good as mine,” I blurted, managing to form a competent sentence. Derpy landed softly before me, her hooves softly tapping the ground. Her eyes looked truly disheartened, even though they both pointed different directions. “I’m so sorry,” she said, bowing her head in what I could only guess was shame. “I should have been more alert…” I smiled weakly, placing a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “It’s a’right, Derpy. Nopony’s hurt.” She returned the smile as best she could. I could tell she was still mentally beating herself up over it, but there wasn’t a thing in Tartarus I could do to help her. She turned and took off again, hovering over to the piano. That’s when I started noticing it. The numbers. I saw one hovering over Rarity, glowing a sunset-gold that made it seem as though the actual colors of the setting sun were copying the numbers. I watched it for a while, Rarity’s words falling upon deaf ears as I wondered what the number was. I shivered, noticing the number was descending. Gradually, the numbers were falling down to zero. A strange sense of urgency welled up within me, making me want to shove her out of something’s way like that hero had done to me. I dismissed the feeling, knowing that it was far out-of-place. “Applejack,” Rarity huffed, finally catching my attention. “What’s going on? Why are you staring at my horn?” “It’s no big deal,” I replied, trying to ignore the numbers over her head. “I gotta go drop this stuff off at home. We’re all headed to the park fer lunch, right?” “That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “I’ll gather the girls. We’ll meet you there.” I had never been more happy to be left alone in my life. I turned around, trotting down the road at a relaxed pace. Ponies crossed the streets, left and right, none with a care in the world. But I could see the numbers. I remembered Rarity's number, which at the instant I saw it was 63:210:16:37:52. I didn't understand the numbers or what they meant, but something about them was making me downright uncomfortable. They just descended... Creeping closer to zero. I didn't know what happened when it hit zero, but I had a feeling that it was nothing good. To my right, I saw a green mare with a red mane sitting on her front porch in a rocking chair, holding a newborn foal in her hooves. 30:75:23:14:20 hung over her head like the imaginary lightbulb would when somepony got an idea. But the number over the foal's head interested me a lot more: 104:361:20:18:40. The first time I had seen the first part of the number over one hundred, was that foal. I continued on, committing the number to short-term memory. To my left I saw an elderly stallion, his mane grown white with age, only a touch of gray left. His face was as heavily wrinkled, if not more so than Granny's. But the number over his head nearly halted me in my tracks: 0:0:11:45:17. It was damn close to zero, and descending by one every second from the furthest right number. Something about it made my hooves itch to do something, but I didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do. After spending half an hour walking down that road, I finally arrived home. Applebloom and the other Crusaders ware in the parlor, coming up with some 'brilliant' scheme that would earn them their cutie marks. Over my little sister's head was 76:167:13:01:01. I watched it descend for a moment, the number transforming to 76:167:13:00:59 in but two seconds. I turned away, having given them a smile and a knowing chuckle. I stepped into the kitchen, where Granny was slicing up some apples for a pie. Above her head was 4:7:3:04:56. I smiled and greeted her as though nothing was troubling me, setting down my saddlebags full of flour and sugar and things to bake with. She smiled her usual kooky toothless smile, giving me a strong (for her age anyway) hug. She said something about taking Big Mac a pitcher of water on the west field so he didn't keel over from overworkin' himself. I didn't rightly believe that was possible, but I had nearly done just that from lack of sleep. I picked up the bucket she hoofed my way, the pitcher now in my saddlebags where cinnamon and sugar were this morning. By the time I left the house, Granny's number was 4:7:3:01:13. I cantered over to the west field, careful to not trip and spill the water. I saw Big Mac bucking some trees, sweat dripping from him like Winona after a bath. His buck was much weaker than usual, only getting three quarters of the apples in the tree. Above is sweat-matted mane was a number that was descending faster than most everypony else's: 25:202:13:05.59 In just ten seconds, it had lowered down to 23:182:15:09:11. Something about that didn't sit right with me, and I nearly puked on the spot. My hooves itched like they'd been chewed on by fire-ants. I trotted up to him, setting the bucket down, and retrieving the pitcher from my bags. I set it down, filling it with water from the old wooden bucket. "Drink up, big guy. You look mighty parched," I chuckled. I put a hoof on his shoulder, making him stop moving. His head drooped low, his breath shaky and ragged. I knew he'd argue and want to continue until the work was done, but he didn't that time. He just stumbled over to the water, taking long gulps from what was left in the bucket. As he drank, I watched his number rise. When he finally raised his head, a proud 57:173:41:17:12 hovering over his sweaty mane. I pondered it for a while, wondering what it meant. Elderly have low numbers, closer to zero on the left. Young'uns have higher numbers, further from zero on the left. The number descends with time, but rose quite a bit when Big Mac drank that water. Then again, he did look close to keelin' over like Granny said. Wait... Keelin' over... By Celestia's mane... The realization hit me like the hero from earlier. I'm seeing time. I'm seeing time. The concept was strange to me. If I was interpreting the numbers right, Big Mac had fifty-seven years left in him. He'd live well into his eighties, assuming he didn't unexpectedly keel over for one reason or the other. That's when I got curious. How much time do I have left? I ran home, the pounding of my hooves on the ground unable to drown out my thoughts. I bolted into the house, nearly breaking the door off it's tarnished brass hinges. I leapt up the stairs in what felt like a single fluid bound, turning a full ninety degrees to the left in a split second. I rushed into my room, skidding to a halt on the creaky old wood before the mirror that I had never actually cared to look in. I paused for a moment, praying to Celestia to see a good number like Rarity's sixty-three. I looked at myself in the mirror that day for the third time I had ever done so in my life. I saw an orange mare with visible freckles on her cheeks and granny-smith green eyes staring back. I saw her blonde mane frazzled up this way and that. I saw her familiar hat slightly misaligned upon her head. But nowhere in that mirror was there a number. I stared at the image before me, blinking a few times to see if my eyes were wrong. I hoped they were wrong. I had never wanted to be more wrong in my life. All I saw in the mirror was myself. I could not see how much time I had left, but I could see everypony else's. A strange... predicament. I couldn't call it a blessing because it was driving me mad, though I couldn't call it a curse because I could help ponies in immediate, life-threatening danger that most ponies would not see until too late. I looked back at the incident that had nearly taken my life that morning, and wondered if the hero had been able to see my time. The familiar soft chime of the grandfather clock in the hall dragged me out of my musings, reminding me that I had a picnic to get to. As I walked into the park, I was unnerved to find that the place was barren, save for the squirrels devouring acorns in the trees and the rabbits munching on the grass. I looked around, seeing the tables we'd use were abandoned. All was quiet, with seven clouds in the sky on that peaceful mid spring morning. I walked over to the wooden picnic table in the shade of a great oak, setting down my saddlebags which held my lunch. A slight, no, loud rustle above me turned my head skyward faster than Rainbow could ever hope to take off. As soon as the color pink registered in my mind, I sidestepped. I knew I'd be sorry if I didn't. "Something's up, AJ," Pinkie half shouted accusingly. "You're not telling us something." I facehoofed. Of course she knew. She knew everything. How she did it, I didn't bother asking. "Us? As in," I said, louder and more sarcastically than was probably necessary, "the rest of y'all're here, too?" To my surprise, Fluttershy poked her head out of the bushes first. Rarity stepped out from behind the tree, Twilight appeared from Celestia-knows-where with her fancy-schmancy magic, and Rainbow popped her head down from the tree. "You've been acting strange, darling," Rarity piped in. "I asked if you were okay seven times, all of which remain unanswered. Then I asked why you were staring at my horn, and you said it was no big deal." "I didn't think it was a big deal at the time. I'll tell y'all after we eat," I sighed, dismissing their concerns. And so we ate, talking about our daily lives, what we'd been doing when we weren't hanging out, just the usual. It was nice. It was good to forget about those damned numbers for a little while. But like the delicious apple fritter I had eaten for lunch, it didn't last. Knowing that Pinkie was about to bring it up again, I decided it would be best to beat her to the punchline. "Sixty-three, two hundred and ten, fifteen, ten, thirty-one," I blurted, looking at Rarity. I looked at Rainbow, reading off her number as I saw it, "Sixty, twenty-six, nineteen, fifty-seven, fifteen." "I... don't follow..." Twilight interjected. I looked to her, sighing her number, "Sixty-eight, three-hundred, ten, twenty-two, fifty-two." Everypony was looking at me funny, but I ignored the stares. I turned to Pinkie, reciting her number as though I had known it all my life, "Seventy, eighty-seven, twelve, thirty, forty-one." Fluttershy gasped as I turned to include her in all of this, "Sixty-eight, three-hundred, ten, fifty-six, fifty." "What the hell, Applejack?" Rainbow near shouted. "What is going on?! Just lay it out for us!" "Those are yer numbers," I continued, paying no mind to Rainbow's outburst. "What numbers?" Twilight asked, genuine curiosity displayed upon her face. I put it bluntly, "Time. Years, days, hours, minutes, seconds." Upon seeing everyone's eyebrows rise an inch, I continued. "Yer time. How much y'all have left. Yer numbers are gradually sinkin' to zero. I can see yer clocks, float'n' above yer heads." Twilight opened her jaw to say something, but closed it, as though she had forgotten it, or didn't know how to put it. "Rarity. You saw how I got my sorry flank saved by that mystery stallion today at the market, right?" I asked. She simply nodded, unable to form words. "That's where I'll begin then." I cleared my throat, summing up my past few hours' experiences. I spoke softly, so everyone would listen, "Today I was almost crushed by a fallin' piano. Lucky fer me, somepony was on his hooves, and flew over fast as Dash to shove me outta the way. But he warn't no pegasus. He caught the piano with magic, an' set it down. But he warn't no unicorn neither. He was an earth-pony like me. As tribute to his cutie mark, I've just been calling him the Hero. But he's not relevant at this point. "When I finally was able to piece together what happened, that's when I started seein' the numbers. I saw Rarity's first. That's why I didn't answer ya, Rares. I was staring at yer number." Rarity nodded slightly, urging me to continue. "At the time, it was sixty-three, two-hundred and ten, sixteen, thirty-seven, fifty-two. But time has passed, and yer number is a bit lower. But as I walked around, I noticed everypony's number. Elderly were low, young'uns higher up, and everywhere between. It was when I gave some water to Big Mac just a while ago when I realized that it was time that I was seein'." I continued on, "Granny gave me a bucket of water to take to Big Mac. When I got there, he looked near dehydrated. He was sweatin' far too much, and he hadn't taken a break in what I could only guess was yesterday. When I got there, his number was lowerin' faster than everypony else's. After he drank the whole bucket, and the pitcher, his number had risen more than double what I had first seen. That's when I realized that it was time." Everypony was silent. I noticed some young'uns running through the park, playing tag. An earth pony was running, looking back to see the pony chasing him. Above his head I saw a number descending rapidly from a proud eighty to a meager forty in but five seconds. Without even thinking about it, I jumped up, leaping forwards past Rainbow and Pinkie, galloping after the little pony. I sprinted harder than Dash could ever hope to, catching up to the pony with three-meter strides. Just as I neared him, I saw the Ponyville Cliff. That explains the number. I reached out, grabbing him by the neck with my teeth, skidding to a halt before the cliff, a few pebbles falling to the chasm below. I released the poor colt's neck, letting him back away from the ledge in realization that he'd almost fallen off. I trotted away with out a word, just happy that the colt's number had returned to a proud eighty-two years. And as I trotted back to the girls, I wondered to myself if he could now see the numbers. Only time will tell. I was not proud, nor ashamed. I was not happy, nor sad, nor angry, nor scared. I was calm. I had seen the danger, if only because of the time hanging over his head. I had noticed when nopony else had. Had I not been there, that poor foal would not be alive today. I had been just in time. Author's Note I woke up one morning, and thought to myself, 'I'm not giving AJ enough love.' So I wrote her this. I was inspired by a music video to write this. Damn shame I can't find that video again. If I could, I'd give y'all a link to it. However, I do believe that I carried the main concept across pretty well. AJ gets her life saved, and now she can see how much time everypony else has, but can't see her own clock. She saves somepony else, and thus, the cycle continues. It can go on forever, but I shall only put AJ's story here. This will fit into the continuity of other stories. I have now gained super-permissions to use my friend's character (the hero with the mechanical wings and horn) at will, wherever he is required. He will play into later stories, like Night Mare's Knight in much later chapters. I am working on more material for y'all to read. :3 <3 DarqFox My head canon explains ages as such: Mane 6 = 21 years old, roughly. Big Mac = 26 Granny Smith = High eighties, low nineties. Somewhere between 87 and 93. Applebloom & CMC = about 12, maybe 13. Hero"Applejack," Rarity asked hesitantly as I bucked a tree. A drumroll of apples falling into a wooden bucket echoed through the near silent orchard. The only sounds were my breathing, the thunk of my hooves on the tree trunk, and now Rarity's voice. I sighed, mildly annoyed. "What is it, Rares?" I asked, turning to face her. A curious expression was plastered to her face like chunks of the apple pie on Soarin's face at the Gala. "If..." she paused, gathering her thoughts. "If you can see time because somepony saved you in the nick of time, how come I can't see the numbers?" "What makes ya think ye'r supposed to see 'em?" I asked, now confused as to what she was implying. "Remember the Best Young Flier competition?" she asked, conjuring images of her free-falling to her most certain death into my mind. I shuddered. "Oh," I muttered under my breath. "I dunno, Rares. Maybe 'cause Rainbow saved you with a larger margin than the Hero did me. After all, she caught you and them Wonderbolt fellers and kept descending for another few hundred meters at least." "That makes some sense," she sighed. I watched her plunge into thought once more. I wasted no time in setting up the next tree, and bucking the apples out of it. Nearly fifty fell from that tree, all landing in one bucket or another. "Could also be that I saw it coming, while you did not." "That works too," I replied, not paying much attention. "Sweetie wants me to thank you for saving her crush yesterday," Rarity blurted after a moment of silence. I stopped the buck that was about to make its mark on a tree. "Ya didn't tell her it was me, didja?" I glared at her. "You of all ponies know I hate the limelight." "Of course I didn't. I described what I witnessed as a cloaked pony that saved that poor colt," she cooed, reassuring me that I was still as anonymous among the local press as I was yesterday. "But I know that I saw a hero that day." I blushed slightly as she flattered me for what felt like the millionth time this year. "Oh stop, I'm no hero. I'm just AJ." She whispered something that I thought I heard, but desperately wanted to confirm. "What was that?" She shrunk away, mimicking Fluttershy's tactic of hiding behind her curly purple mane. This only added to my curiosity. Something was up, and I wanted to know what. "I dunno what ye'r hidin' for, Rares. Just tell me anything, and I'll give you the truth of the matter." I smiled in her direction, or at least, I thought I did. For all I know I could have turned into a manticore, because she bolted off faster than a sonic rainboom. Something was up, and I wanted in. I looked around, by force of new instinct. The numbers ticked on, slowly descending towards zero. And though I knew what happened when a clock hit zero, I was afraid of seeing it. I was very much afraid of seeing a clock stop. I trotted down the road, seeing everypony go about their business while I watched over them like a hawk. Though I didn't much like it, I wore a dark brown cloak that obscured most every distinguishable feature about me. It was necessary to keep the press away. I saw one of them asking a middle aged shop-owner about what he had seen when the piano fell, specifically, parts involving me. I passed right on by, ignoring them. I continued on at a relaxed pace, listening and watching with utmost care for anything just a hair out of place. I watched the numbers like a hawk. I somehow ended up at the same fountain I had sat upon yesterday before the incident, and decided to sit down on it again. Next to me was a rather attractive, if I do say so myself, brown mare with a black mane. By looking at the definition of her face and the slight dullness in her green eyes, I could guess that she was somewhere in her mid thirties. I looked up at her number, seeing a firm forty years plus. I looked her over once more, seeing a second number on her, just above her belly. I smiled to her from beneath my hood as a silent 'Congratulations' of sorts. After she returned the smile, I turned my attention back to the crowd before me. A blaring siren hit my ears, near deafening me. An ambulance wagon had rushed into the Ponyville market, stopping before one of the houses. I made my way over, quickly and quietly. Something made me itch about this. Two paramedics came out of the building with an elderly mare on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was on her muzzle, and her eyes stared blankly into space. I moved closer. I saw a bright number above her: 14.81. I watched helplessly as it ticked down, her last few seconds draining from her. Just as the paramedics got her into the wagon, her clock struck zero. A cherry red 0.00 hung over her for a moment, before flickering from existence like a candle being blown out. She still looked like she had time, but I bowed my head in respect, knowing she was already gone. Others prayed for her return to health. I prayed for her soul to live in heaven. They didn't see what I saw. I walked back to the fountain, taking a seat upon it, the pregnant mare having walked away while I was gone. I watched the crowd, the cluster of numbers blending together like two different shades of the same color paint. I watched for something, anything to make those numbers descend faster than normal. I saw a pony light a cigar on his balcony, plopping in a wooden rocking chair. His number dropped by fifteen minutes the instant he took his first drag of it. I saw a homeless stallion with a dirt-encrusted beard in the dark of an alley, sniffing at something on his hoof. His clock shot down by thirty years, leaving just four more for him. I grimaced, watching the numbers beat down their ponies. I saw a young stallion wearing a white headband running down the street. He wore a dark green jersey with the emblem of the local Ponyville High Cross-Country team on both sides. As he ran, his clock descended slower than everypony else's. I saw a young filly with a cold through a window, drinking a glass of orange juice, her clock descending in the seconds column at its normal pace, but the minutes column rose by two as she finished it off. I smiled, seeing the numbers being beaten back. There was hope for everypony. A pair of gears snapped me to attention. My eyes darted to where they were, locking onto the Hero. I stood, having found who I'd been waiting for. I followed him a few meters behind, my eyes fixed upon him alone. The brighter ponies around me made it hard to keep my gaze upon his more subtle and neutral color, but I could pinpoint him because of it as well. I grinned to myself, catching up as he broke from the crowd, headed towards a house. I followed closely behind, watching as he slipped inside, unnoticed by everypony but me. I crept over to his door, smiling as I got closer to meeting the Hero that had saved my life. I stifled a giggle of anticipation, my hoof already reaching to knock on the door. "What do you want?" the pony behind the door hissed, the door open just enough for him to see my cloaked form standing outside his doorstep. I removed my hood, letting him see my face. Upon doing so, he opened the door enough for me to slip in. "Ah. You. Come in. I suppose you have questions." I walked away, becoming a grain of salt in a glass of water. As I dissolved into the crowd, I noticed something else slightly peculiar. In all actuality, it was far more than peculiar. Celestia was on her chariot above us, descending to Ponyville. I could only guess what was in store for Twilight, or perhaps even all of us 'Element bearers'. I chuckled, wondering if the Princess had a number. Then I wondered if she had a number. I made my way to Twilight's library, genuine curiosity guiding my hooves. Something about today was just straight up driving me up a wall. Rarity acting like Fluttershy near me, Celestia dropping by unannounced, an elderly mare dying as I witnessed. I could swear I was either having one hell of a drunk dream from a night of Granny Smith's hard cider, or I was just losing my marbles. I sincerely hoped for the former. Losing my marbles was definitely not on my to-do list. I arrived at the library within a minute or two, seeing that the others had already gathered there. I saw Pinkie bouncing around inside, and Twilight near insane with the Princess standing over her. I knocked twice and entered. "Applejack, just who I wanted to see," the Princess greeted, catching me by surprise. I looked up at her, half expecting to see a number above her head. And a number I did see, but it was a different number than what I had expected. A lone number one stood proudly above her, beaming with pride that it was the number above the Princess' royal noggin. "How have things been?" "A mighty spell strange, I reckon," I answered. "My student tells me you can see time," she said bluntly. She might as well have smacked me with a canoe paddle. "I reckon so," I replied, keeping it percussive. "Sixty-three for Rarity, sixty-eight for both Twilight and Fluttershy, sixty for Rainbow Dash, and seventy for Pinkamena Diane Pie," she recited. "Assuming I remember correctly." I looked around. "Looks about right." "But what of your own?" she asked, grinning smugly as though she knew the answer already. "I have no number," I admit. Everypony in the room gasped, save for the Princess, who's smile had only grown like a troll that had stabbed a pony in the hoof as they passed over the troll's bridge. "Wh-" I cut her off, continuing, "I have no number, because of the task I now hold. This accursed blessin' I now bear does not allow me to have one because I am willingly puttin' myself in immediate life-treatenin' danger at every opportunity. I have no number because my number changes too much." "Very good, but there is more," she chuckled teasingly. I couldn't help but think of her as a troll, laughing as it stabbed innocent passersby. The mental nickname Trollestia came to mind, eliciting a muffled chortle from me. "Tell me, Applejack. What is my number?" "Yer number hasn't budged, yer highness," I started. "It's a one." "And why, do you think, has it not moved like everypony else's?" "Because ye'r immune to death by natural causes," I answered simply. "Alicorns don't die of old age. But that don't make ya exempt from Death." "Bravo." "Not hard to follow," I chortled. The questions were too obvious. "Might I ask why ye'r here, Princess? Princesses don't visit Ponyville without some sort of business." "Blunt, as always," Trollestia laughed. I smirked as she did so. "I've heard that the numbers have been wearing on your mental health. I can make the numbers disappear." I pondered it for a moment, wondering who had told Celestia that. I had only complained of the numbers being a mild nuisance to one pony here. "Hell no." Rarity nearly fainted from my 'unbecoming' behavior and language in use towards a princess, while Twilight's eyes caught fire, her mane and tail threatening to follow suit. The rest of my friends simply gasped like Pinkie when she meets a new pony. "I may find it a mild nuisance to see how much time everypony has left, but I can do so much good with it. I can, nay, I have saved lives with this. I am no Hero, but I know my place here. I shall keep my sight the way it is now, and deal with the consequences when they come," I near growled. I was irked by the implication that I didn't want this. Sure, at the moment I got it, I didn't. I was damn near Pinkamena-level cuckoo. But now that I had actually been able to do something with it, I wanted to keep this... Sight of mine. I wanted to be able to protect ponies. Deep down inside, I wanted to be a Hero. Author's Note And so, we introduce a plot. I think I might go far beyond a threeshot with this one. It feels great to write this one. It's just coming naturally. I hope you guys are enjoying this story. :P <3 DarqFox This was the fastest 2k+ word update I've done, coming in at under 14 hours. I'm damn proud. SaviorAn itch in my hooves woke me up that morning. The rooster had crowed bright and early as usual, but failed to rouse me from the depths of my slumber. I'm sure Applebloom had knocked at my door many times to see if I was awake yet, but at the moment, I didn't really care. Not until I got some coffee. I set my forehooves down on the floor, the itch in them tempting me to raise them back up and scratch them against the bedpost. But I ignored it. I knew trying to scratch an itch in your hoof was a waste of time. I stood up, taking care to stretch my tired muscles before the day's work. It had become a sort of therapy for me. Out in the orchard, there were no numbers. There were no ponies to bother me, no numbers to watch tick dismally downward. But most of all, I had time to think about what had happened in the past week. I had been saved by the Hero, I had become a Hero, and I had made a firm choice to remain a Hero. I could see numbers, nay, I could see time. I could see life drain from ponies like water from a leaky bucket. I could see the direct effects of actions on the clocks of a pony. Smoking, drugs, exercise, eating habits, medicine, even things as simple as having fun with friends and enjoying one's self. Every action I had seen had a direct effect on the clock of the performer. I meditated each action as I bucked a tree, forty or so apples falling from it. I bucked each tree with every ounce of strength I had, letting loose a rain of apples from each one. But I wasn't bucking the trees for my family, or my farm. Nay. I was doing everything to keep my sense of identity clean. I was a Hero, but I was a farmer first. I had meditated on why Rarity could possibly be more timid than a jackrabbit around me, and resolved to confront her about it. The whole idea of somepony acting that way near me didn't quite sit right in my stomach. Especially Rarity. My best friend in the group acting weird near me where she'd normally be solid definitely rung a bell in the back of my mind. Something was up with Rarity, and I wanted in. I trotted through town, paying attention to the numbers I saw but not focusing on them. I had a different task in mind than being a vigilante that day. I passed by the numerous shops on the way through town, the owners inside waving through the windows at me. I responded with silent nods, tipping my hat in their direction. Groups of foals ran by, playing tag or other games, laughing and squealing with delight. Laughter trilled through the bright, cloudless spring day, not a hint of anything out of place. Everything was set for a perfect day. After ten minutes of walking, I finally reached my destination. I knocked at the door twice before entering. The stuffy atmosphere inside was humid with dust, and tasted stale. I could guess that it had been more than a year since a window had been open in the old library. I looked around, and froze as my eyes gazed upon something that I wish desperately that I could un-see. On a red sofa, Twilight lay on her back, her lips locked to Fluttershy's, who was laying flat on top of her, her left forehoof resting on the unicorn's chest. I watched them, paralyzed with shock, for maybe five minutes. I screamed at myself to look away, walk away, do something, but to no avail. My hooves were as attached to the ground as a cutie mark was to a pony. After another four minutes of urging myself to move, I finally managed to snap my jaw shut. I shook my head vigorously, hoping to erase the image from my mind like an Etch-A-Sketch. Sadly, it didn't work. "Um. Hi?" I said, feeling like Fluttershy did in front of new ponies. The two ignored me, continuing their make-out session. I grinned like Discord, an evil thought entering my head. But that's just a bit harsh. So what? They're makin'-out right in front of ya! And who am I to interrupt? I brushed the evil thought from my mind, going for a more acceptable method of interrupting the two. With extreme care, I poked Twilight and Fluttershy in the cheek. The two shot apart faster than two magnets held north-to-north. They both stared at me with expressions similar to that which I made when I saw the two in the first place. I put on as best an innocent smile as I could. "Well howdy," I greeted awkwardly. "Hey, Applejack," Fluttershy greeted, climbing off Twilight as the unicorn pulled herself to a sitting position. "I'll get straight to the point, so y'all can go back ta whatever it is y'all were plannin' on doin'," I teased, semi-serious. "Rarity's been actin' a bit weirder than she usually does around me. And it's only around me. Either of ya know what the hay is goin' on with 'er?" The two mares before me looked at each other, and I swear I saw a devious glint in their eyes. Seconds later, both of them exploded in laughter as though it were a coordinated prank. I raised an eyebrow at them, wondering if they had suddenly gone bonkers. They stopped after a while, looking at me with knowing grins. "It's about damn time you got curious," Fluttershy of all ponies berated me. "You're more dense than Twily here." She shrunk slightly, "I'm sorry... Was that too much?" Twilight blushed, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish grin on her face. I looked at Fluttershy funny. It was definitely not in her nature to act this way. But then again, it wasn't in her nature to make out with Twilight so far as I knew. I found myself once again praying that this was just a drunk dream from a night of Granny's hard cider. "Rarity's been flirting with you, Applejack," the pegasus continued. "Her feelings for you are possibly greater than mine are for Twilight." It made perfect sense. Shyness, stuttering after certain comments, which now that I look back on must have teased the daylights out of her, and most of all: her visits to the farm. She hated getting dirty, and what worse place to go to stay clean than a farm? The questions then started rolling in like fog. "Any idea where she is now? I haven't seen her in a while," I asked. "Which now that I think about it, is really strange." "She's on her way back from a Seamstress' Guild meeting in Manehatten. She should be coming back this afternoon," Twilight answered. "Trains from Manehatten arrive at the station at two, four, and seven this afternoon. She'll be on one of the three." I looked around for a real clock. I saw a grandmother clock on a wall, reading one-fifty in the afternoon. "Well, if that's the case, I'll be at the station all day if y'all need me." I turned and walked to the door of the library, hearing the two... lovers... behind me reposition themselves. As soon as their breathing got heavy, I got out of that library faster than a mouse from a snake-hole. As a new habit, I wore my brown cloak just about every time I went out in public. The media had long since abandoned the effort of trying to find the Hero that saved whatever-the-colt's-name-was from dashing off a cliff, but I didn't want to be recognized for any future actions. Rarity described the Hero that saved that colt as a cloaked pony, even though that was an outright lie. But I insisted on making her lie the truth. That's what best friends are for... Right? I sat on a bench at the train station, watching ponies go about their business. Leaving, arriving, picking up relatives, dropping off friends. I watched an elderly mare arrive with a solid twenty years left be escorted from the station by what I could only assume was her daughter, who I recognized as the pregnant mare from a few days before. I smiled. The elderly mare would see her grandfoal graduate high-school, and maybe. Just maybe, she'd be able to send the foal off to college. I saw a middle aged stallion with his son, both carrying a large load of bags to a luggage cart. The stallion was near tears, but he didn't show it. As his colt turned slightly, I saw the emblem of Hoofard University on his jacket. I smiled. The stallion was sending his son to one of the most prestigious universities in Equestria. It was a miracle his pride hadn't liquefied and overflowed from his eyes. If I were his parent, I'd drown the station with proud tears. I watched Cheerilee and a group of other adult ponies leading an amorphous blob of young ponies onto a train for what I assumed to be the Canterlot Gardens field-trip. I smiled, remembering Applebloom and the Crusaders had gone there a few months earlier, but Discord escaped and ruined the trip. That was likely a make-up trip. I watched the crowd, my eyes peeled for Rarity among them. The clock across the platform read two o'clock. After the passengers had gotten off and I saw no Rarity, I sighed and sunk back into deep thought, primarily of the unicorn I was waiting for. Something was stirring in my chest, but I didn't quite understand what it was I was feeling. Why me? Why would somepony like Rarity develop a crush on me. I'm as far from similar to her as it gets! Plus, she knows how conservative my family is! But the stirring in my chest roared in protest. Something about her... The clock across the platform struck four as another train pulled into the station. With a loud screech, the train stopped, blasting forth a wave of steam onto the platform. Passengers got off the train, trotting off to their business, unawares of their ticking clocks. I saw a colt from Manehatten University arrive with nopony waiting for him. He looked around, as though expecting somepony. But he grinned when he saw no one waiting for him. I grinned with him, realizing that he was planning to surprise his folks. They probably had absolutely no idea he was here. The train pulled up after the passengers had done whatever maneuvering they needed to, be it get on, get off, or move up a car or two. It halted once more, freight cars now waiting at the station. A crane that I had not noticed roared to life, plucking a massive steel storage crate from one of the flat-bed cars. The train moved forward as the crane moved the crate to a storage yard behind the station. Twelve crates were plucked from the train before it left with four remaining crates, bound for the next destination. Seeing no Rarity, I plunged back into my thoughts of her. Three hours passed in the blink of an eye. The clock struck seven, waking me from a nap I didn't know I had taken. As the train pulled into the station, the crane roared to life once more, plucking a crate from the storage yard to place on the train. I looked around, seeing Rarity stepping off a car. A baggage colt was busy gathering some of her belongings from a different car, placing them on a baggage cart. She looked around a little bit, but did not see me. I smiled. Her number skipped downwards by nearly twelve years each hop. I looked up, seeing a crate hovering over her. The cable by which it was suspended was frayed slightly, and I saw it coming. I dashed forwards, knocking innocent ponies out of the way forcefully. I slid beneath one that was too tall to leap over, and bounded over two young foals, covering the twenty meters to Rarity in something close to three seconds. I barreled straight into her, knocking her out of the way. My hooves found their way around her as I pulled her close and took the fall for our landing. The wind created by the falling crate frazzled both of our manes, and crushed her luggage entirely. I heard screams of terror immediately after the crash of steel on concrete. Some panicked and ran away like they were on fire. Others stood frozen to the ground. One pony dashed straight to us. "You ponies alright?" the stallion asked. I unclenched my eyes, revealing the cobalt stallion. "We're fine," I replied, letting go of Rarity and standing up. I pulled the paralyzed unicorn up to her hooves, giving her a reassuring smile. "Can't say the same 'bout her luggage." "You should get her to a doctor to treat her for shock. Leaving that untreated is a bad idea," he said, giving a derpy smile before trotting off at a relaxed pace, whistling a happy tune as though nothing had happened. I smiled, casting my eyes back to Rarity. "You're okay, Rarity." Her face stared on past me, eyes wide in shock. I could tell she was seeing numbers. I sighed, almost chuckling to myself. I nudged her forwards with me, guiding her in the direction of the hospital. It took nearly an hour to reach the hospital. Her reaction to the numbers had been more like the Hero's, as he had told me when I visited him. She was easily distracted, still trying to overcome the shock. She walked up to ponies, trying to touch their numbers. She made huge scenes as we made our way to the hospital. Ponies stared at her for a bit, judging her as a loon, but I knew better. I could see what she was seeing now. Of course, my reaction had been a lot more controlled, but everypony's different. As we finally arrived at the hospital, we saw a patient being rolled hurriedly to a different part of the building. An elderly stallion lay upon the gurney, oxygen tubes sticking out of his nostrils. Above his head was a disheartening 8.33. Rarity watched as they rushed down the hall, his number descending closer to zero. She froze, seeing the same red 0.00 that I had the elderly mare at the market a few days earlier. She watched it flicker from existence, no doubt making the same comparison in her mind to a candle being blown out that I had. She had just witnessed death. "Rarity needs a check-up. She's in shock," I said calmly to Nurse Redheart at the front desk. She smiled, hailing a doctor without a word. The middle aged stallion of about forty years helped escort Rarity to a quiet room with a window. "Just treat the shock, nothing else." As I walked Rarity home, she was a lot more controlled, but virtually dead silent. It was good that she wasn't running up to ponies, trying to touch their numbers, but the silence made me uneasy. She looked around, watching numbers like I did. She looked up at the one above my head that I couldn't see. She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her before she could start, "Don't tell me my number. I'm sure you wanna tell me, but I don't wanna know." She closed her mouth. I smiled at her gently, "I want to treat ev'ry day as though it's my last. I don't wanna know how much time I have, 'cause I don't wanna start sayin' 'I got time, I can do that later.' I wanna make my time count, like I did today." "Applejack..." she started after a moment of hesitation. "What... What happened today..." We stopped in front of her home, the sun now below the horizon. I watched her intently, knowing what she wanted to say. "Tell me anything. I swear I will never give you anything less than the absolute truth," I whispered to her, smiling weakly. "I've been... meaning to tell you something... Would you mind coming inside for a moment?" Her voice was quiet as Fluttershy's but retained the quality that made it hers. It made my heart lurch a bit. I followed her inside. "I already know, Rares," I said as the door behind me closed. "Took me long enough to notice, and I had to ask Twi an' Fluttershy, but I finally did." She breathed a sigh of relief. She got closer to me, her eyes just a hoof away from mine. She stared into my eyes, seeing every aspect about me. She stared into my soul. She moved forward, pressing her soft lips to mine for a moment before pulling away. "That makes it a bit easier to explain why I kissed my savior." Author's Note Uploaded cover-art: Check Added Romance tag: Check Added 'No humans, despite cover image' to description: Check New chapter with the shipping: Check RariJack: Check TwiShy: Check Turning 'Just in Time' into a full-length story: Checkmate Well, everything seems in order. Finally worked the shipping in. Yay. And for all of you TwiShy fans. You're welcome. <3 DarqFox
Just in TimeJust in Time I trotted along my weekend trip to Ponyville market, buying supplies like flour for the family. There were only seven clouds in the sky, each one drifting lazily along, left there by the weather team. Celestia's sun shone mighty bright, its warmth making it feel like summer just a month too early. As hustle-and-bustle as the marketplace was, all was tranquil that morning. At least, that was as calm as I'd ever be. I smiled with no good reason as I finagled my way through the hordes of ponies in the crowded bazaar. There was a natural music about the place that morning. The faint jingle of a pouch-full of bits, the percussive clopping of hooves on the ground, and the dull roar of ponies haggling with shopkeepers for better deals... All were present that day. I gazed up at the sky, seeing seven sloth clouds drifting like flotsam on the ocean. I even saw a large moving wagon being pulled across the sky by local pegasi. I half expected to see Rainbow trailing as a fall-guard, but was not surprised by the lack of said pony. I sat down on a nearby fountain's edge, taking a moment to relax. I watched everypony go about similar business to mine, getting supplies for their respective families. I saw familiar faces like Lyra and Bon Bon, as well as Nurse Redheart, who looked mighty strange without her nurse’s uniform. Many ponies waved a friendly ‘good morning’ to me as they passed, some of which I didn’t even recognize. I just smiled and waved back. After about half an hour of sitting on the fountain, I decided it would be best to head home and drop off the supplies. I stood up slowly so as to not Charlie-horse my knees, and headed off at a light canter. A light shadow passed overhead. I paid no heed. “Heads up!” somepony hollered at me. I looked up, seeing a grand piano on its way down, having fallen from the moving-wagon I’d seen earlier. Every muscle in me froze in place as though accepting the cruel fate before me. Move… I mentally screamed at myself. Move, dammit! Move! Move! Somehow, I moved. But I wasn’t the one moving. I caught a glimpse of a stallion roughly my age by looks, shoving me out of the way with a forceful tackle. His forehooves slammed against my side with enough force to crack one of my ribs and send me flying sideways ten feet. I grimaced as I scraped against the dirt streets, a stinging sensation tingling up my spine. I forced the pain to subside, and looked back at the offender. And that was the first I really saw that stallion. He was a pale cobalt blue stallion with a brown mane, who at first glance looked like a unicorn. Upon his forehead was a steel-gray horn, which at that moment was glowing with an emerald aura. But as I looked closer, I saw that he was no unicorn at all. The steel-gray horn on his head was secured upon his face by means of a leather set of straps. A few wires and disc things attached to his face and neck at random places. Upon second glance, he appeared to be a pegasus wearing a mechanical horn. His wings were flared out, casting a rather majestic if not intimidating shadow. But again, I had to look closer. His wings were also false, secured to him by means of more leather straps. Each wing was made of four little strips of leather, held taught by a long bent plate of metal. They both were fastened to the main harness on his back, which was laced with more wires and discs. I was about to bite my tongue to see if I was dreaming all of this when I saw the pony’s cutie mark, partially hidden by a disc attached to his flank: A pair of steel gears. Well that’s a new one. I winced slightly as I pulled myself to my hooves, the familiar “I just don’t know what went wrong,” from Derpy above hitting my ears. I looked at the strange pony, managing to catch his steel-gray eyes. He set the piano down with his magical grasp, giving me an incredibly derpy smile before taking off and flying away without a word. I stood there, staring at where the nameless hero once stood for a good four minutes, my mind rushing to catch up with what was going on. “Are you alright, AJ?” the familiar voice of Rarity snapped my to reality. “What happened?” I shook my head clear, trying to form words. “Yer guess is as good as mine,” I blurted, managing to form a competent sentence. Derpy landed softly before me, her hooves softly tapping the ground. Her eyes looked truly disheartened, even though they both pointed different directions. “I’m so sorry,” she said, bowing her head in what I could only guess was shame. “I should have been more alert…” I smiled weakly, placing a gentle hoof on her shoulder. “It’s a’right, Derpy. Nopony’s hurt.” She returned the smile as best she could. I could tell she was still mentally beating herself up over it, but there wasn’t a thing in Tartarus I could do to help her. She turned and took off again, hovering over to the piano. That’s when I started noticing it. The numbers. I saw one hovering over Rarity, glowing a sunset-gold that made it seem as though the actual colors of the setting sun were copying the numbers. I watched it for a while, Rarity’s words falling upon deaf ears as I wondered what the number was. I shivered, noticing the number was descending. Gradually, the numbers were falling down to zero. A strange sense of urgency welled up within me, making me want to shove her out of something’s way like that hero had done to me. I dismissed the feeling, knowing that it was far out-of-place. “Applejack,” Rarity huffed, finally catching my attention. “What’s going on? Why are you staring at my horn?” “It’s no big deal,” I replied, trying to ignore the numbers over her head. “I gotta go drop this stuff off at home. We’re all headed to the park fer lunch, right?” “That’s the plan,” she confirmed. “I’ll gather the girls. We’ll meet you there.” I had never been more happy to be left alone in my life. I turned around, trotting down the road at a relaxed pace. Ponies crossed the streets, left and right, none with a care in the world. But I could see the numbers. I remembered Rarity's number, which at the instant I saw it was 63:210:16:37:52. I didn't understand the numbers or what they meant, but something about them was making me downright uncomfortable. They just descended... Creeping closer to zero. I didn't know what happened when it hit zero, but I had a feeling that it was nothing good. To my right, I saw a green mare with a red mane sitting on her front porch in a rocking chair, holding a newborn foal in her hooves. 30:75:23:14:20 hung over her head like the imaginary lightbulb would when somepony got an idea. But the number over the foal's head interested me a lot more: 104:361:20:18:40. The first time I had seen the first part of the number over one hundred, was that foal. I continued on, committing the number to short-term memory. To my left I saw an elderly stallion, his mane grown white with age, only a touch of gray left. His face was as heavily wrinkled, if not more so than Granny's. But the number over his head nearly halted me in my tracks: 0:0:11:45:17. It was damn close to zero, and descending by one every second from the furthest right number. Something about it made my hooves itch to do something, but I didn't know what to do. There was nothing to do. After spending half an hour walking down that road, I finally arrived home. Applebloom and the other Crusaders ware in the parlor, coming up with some 'brilliant' scheme that would earn them their cutie marks. Over my little sister's head was 76:167:13:01:01. I watched it descend for a moment, the number transforming to 76:167:13:00:59 in but two seconds. I turned away, having given them a smile and a knowing chuckle. I stepped into the kitchen, where Granny was slicing up some apples for a pie. Above her head was 4:7:3:04:56. I smiled and greeted her as though nothing was troubling me, setting down my saddlebags full of flour and sugar and things to bake with. She smiled her usual kooky toothless smile, giving me a strong (for her age anyway) hug. She said something about taking Big Mac a pitcher of water on the west field so he didn't keel over from overworkin' himself. I didn't rightly believe that was possible, but I had nearly done just that from lack of sleep. I picked up the bucket she hoofed my way, the pitcher now in my saddlebags where cinnamon and sugar were this morning. By the time I left the house, Granny's number was 4:7:3:01:13. I cantered over to the west field, careful to not trip and spill the water. I saw Big Mac bucking some trees, sweat dripping from him like Winona after a bath. His buck was much weaker than usual, only getting three quarters of the apples in the tree. Above is sweat-matted mane was a number that was descending faster than most everypony else's: 25:202:13:05.59 In just ten seconds, it had lowered down to 23:182:15:09:11. Something about that didn't sit right with me, and I nearly puked on the spot. My hooves itched like they'd been chewed on by fire-ants. I trotted up to him, setting the bucket down, and retrieving the pitcher from my bags. I set it down, filling it with water from the old wooden bucket. "Drink up, big guy. You look mighty parched," I chuckled. I put a hoof on his shoulder, making him stop moving. His head drooped low, his breath shaky and ragged. I knew he'd argue and want to continue until the work was done, but he didn't that time. He just stumbled over to the water, taking long gulps from what was left in the bucket. As he drank, I watched his number rise. When he finally raised his head, a proud 57:173:41:17:12 hovering over his sweaty mane. I pondered it for a while, wondering what it meant. Elderly have low numbers, closer to zero on the left. Young'uns have higher numbers, further from zero on the left. The number descends with time, but rose quite a bit when Big Mac drank that water. Then again, he did look close to keelin' over like Granny said. Wait... Keelin' over... By Celestia's mane... The realization hit me like the hero from earlier. I'm seeing time. I'm seeing time. The concept was strange to me. If I was interpreting the numbers right, Big Mac had fifty-seven years left in him. He'd live well into his eighties, assuming he didn't unexpectedly keel over for one reason or the other. That's when I got curious. How much time do I have left? I ran home, the pounding of my hooves on the ground unable to drown out my thoughts. I bolted into the house, nearly breaking the door off it's tarnished brass hinges. I leapt up the stairs in what felt like a single fluid bound, turning a full ninety degrees to the left in a split second. I rushed into my room, skidding to a halt on the creaky old wood before the mirror that I had never actually cared to look in. I paused for a moment, praying to Celestia to see a good number like Rarity's sixty-three. I looked at myself in the mirror that day for the third time I had ever done so in my life. I saw an orange mare with visible freckles on her cheeks and granny-smith green eyes staring back. I saw her blonde mane frazzled up this way and that. I saw her familiar hat slightly misaligned upon her head. But nowhere in that mirror was there a number. I stared at the image before me, blinking a few times to see if my eyes were wrong. I hoped they were wrong. I had never wanted to be more wrong in my life. All I saw in the mirror was myself. I could not see how much time I had left, but I could see everypony else's. A strange... predicament. I couldn't call it a blessing because it was driving me mad, though I couldn't call it a curse because I could help ponies in immediate, life-threatening danger that most ponies would not see until too late. I looked back at the incident that had nearly taken my life that morning, and wondered if the hero had been able to see my time. The familiar soft chime of the grandfather clock in the hall dragged me out of my musings, reminding me that I had a picnic to get to. As I walked into the park, I was unnerved to find that the place was barren, save for the squirrels devouring acorns in the trees and the rabbits munching on the grass. I looked around, seeing the tables we'd use were abandoned. All was quiet, with seven clouds in the sky on that peaceful mid spring morning. I walked over to the wooden picnic table in the shade of a great oak, setting down my saddlebags which held my lunch. A slight, no, loud rustle above me turned my head skyward faster than Rainbow could ever hope to take off. As soon as the color pink registered in my mind, I sidestepped. I knew I'd be sorry if I didn't. "Something's up, AJ," Pinkie half shouted accusingly. "You're not telling us something." I facehoofed. Of course she knew. She knew everything. How she did it, I didn't bother asking. "Us? As in," I said, louder and more sarcastically than was probably necessary, "the rest of y'all're here, too?" To my surprise, Fluttershy poked her head out of the bushes first. Rarity stepped out from behind the tree, Twilight appeared from Celestia-knows-where with her fancy-schmancy magic, and Rainbow popped her head down from the tree. "You've been acting strange, darling," Rarity piped in. "I asked if you were okay seven times, all of which remain unanswered. Then I asked why you were staring at my horn, and you said it was no big deal." "I didn't think it was a big deal at the time. I'll tell y'all after we eat," I sighed, dismissing their concerns. And so we ate, talking about our daily lives, what we'd been doing when we weren't hanging out, just the usual. It was nice. It was good to forget about those damned numbers for a little while. But like the delicious apple fritter I had eaten for lunch, it didn't last. Knowing that Pinkie was about to bring it up again, I decided it would be best to beat her to the punchline. "Sixty-three, two hundred and ten, fifteen, ten, thirty-one," I blurted, looking at Rarity. I looked at Rainbow, reading off her number as I saw it, "Sixty, twenty-six, nineteen, fifty-seven, fifteen." "I... don't follow..." Twilight interjected. I looked to her, sighing her number, "Sixty-eight, three-hundred, ten, twenty-two, fifty-two." Everypony was looking at me funny, but I ignored the stares. I turned to Pinkie, reciting her number as though I had known it all my life, "Seventy, eighty-seven, twelve, thirty, forty-one." Fluttershy gasped as I turned to include her in all of this, "Sixty-eight, three-hundred, ten, fifty-six, fifty." "What the hell, Applejack?" Rainbow near shouted. "What is going on?! Just lay it out for us!" "Those are yer numbers," I continued, paying no mind to Rainbow's outburst. "What numbers?" Twilight asked, genuine curiosity displayed upon her face. I put it bluntly, "Time. Years, days, hours, minutes, seconds." Upon seeing everyone's eyebrows rise an inch, I continued. "Yer time. How much y'all have left. Yer numbers are gradually sinkin' to zero. I can see yer clocks, float'n' above yer heads." Twilight opened her jaw to say something, but closed it, as though she had forgotten it, or didn't know how to put it. "Rarity. You saw how I got my sorry flank saved by that mystery stallion today at the market, right?" I asked. She simply nodded, unable to form words. "That's where I'll begin then." I cleared my throat, summing up my past few hours' experiences. I spoke softly, so everyone would listen, "Today I was almost crushed by a fallin' piano. Lucky fer me, somepony was on his hooves, and flew over fast as Dash to shove me outta the way. But he warn't no pegasus. He caught the piano with magic, an' set it down. But he warn't no unicorn neither. He was an earth-pony like me. As tribute to his cutie mark, I've just been calling him the Hero. But he's not relevant at this point. "When I finally was able to piece together what happened, that's when I started seein' the numbers. I saw Rarity's first. That's why I didn't answer ya, Rares. I was staring at yer number." Rarity nodded slightly, urging me to continue. "At the time, it was sixty-three, two-hundred and ten, sixteen, thirty-seven, fifty-two. But time has passed, and yer number is a bit lower. But as I walked around, I noticed everypony's number. Elderly were low, young'uns higher up, and everywhere between. It was when I gave some water to Big Mac just a while ago when I realized that it was time that I was seein'." I continued on, "Granny gave me a bucket of water to take to Big Mac. When I got there, he looked near dehydrated. He was sweatin' far too much, and he hadn't taken a break in what I could only guess was yesterday. When I got there, his number was lowerin' faster than everypony else's. After he drank the whole bucket, and the pitcher, his number had risen more than double what I had first seen. That's when I realized that it was time." Everypony was silent. I noticed some young'uns running through the park, playing tag. An earth pony was running, looking back to see the pony chasing him. Above his head I saw a number descending rapidly from a proud eighty to a meager forty in but five seconds. Without even thinking about it, I jumped up, leaping forwards past Rainbow and Pinkie, galloping after the little pony. I sprinted harder than Dash could ever hope to, catching up to the pony with three-meter strides. Just as I neared him, I saw the Ponyville Cliff. That explains the number. I reached out, grabbing him by the neck with my teeth, skidding to a halt before the cliff, a few pebbles falling to the chasm below. I released the poor colt's neck, letting him back away from the ledge in realization that he'd almost fallen off. I trotted away with out a word, just happy that the colt's number had returned to a proud eighty-two years. And as I trotted back to the girls, I wondered to myself if he could now see the numbers. Only time will tell. I was not proud, nor ashamed. I was not happy, nor sad, nor angry, nor scared. I was calm. I had seen the danger, if only because of the time hanging over his head. I had noticed when nopony else had. Had I not been there, that poor foal would not be alive today. I had been just in time. Author's Note I woke up one morning, and thought to myself, 'I'm not giving AJ enough love.' So I wrote her this. I was inspired by a music video to write this. Damn shame I can't find that video again. If I could, I'd give y'all a link to it. However, I do believe that I carried the main concept across pretty well. AJ gets her life saved, and now she can see how much time everypony else has, but can't see her own clock. She saves somepony else, and thus, the cycle continues. It can go on forever, but I shall only put AJ's story here. This will fit into the continuity of other stories. I have now gained super-permissions to use my friend's character (the hero with the mechanical wings and horn) at will, wherever he is required. He will play into later stories, like Night Mare's Knight in much later chapters. I am working on more material for y'all to read. :3 <3 DarqFox My head canon explains ages as such: Mane 6 = 21 years old, roughly. Big Mac = 26 Granny Smith = High eighties, low nineties. Somewhere between 87 and 93. Applebloom & CMC = about 12, maybe 13.
Hero"Applejack," Rarity asked hesitantly as I bucked a tree. A drumroll of apples falling into a wooden bucket echoed through the near silent orchard. The only sounds were my breathing, the thunk of my hooves on the tree trunk, and now Rarity's voice. I sighed, mildly annoyed. "What is it, Rares?" I asked, turning to face her. A curious expression was plastered to her face like chunks of the apple pie on Soarin's face at the Gala. "If..." she paused, gathering her thoughts. "If you can see time because somepony saved you in the nick of time, how come I can't see the numbers?" "What makes ya think ye'r supposed to see 'em?" I asked, now confused as to what she was implying. "Remember the Best Young Flier competition?" she asked, conjuring images of her free-falling to her most certain death into my mind. I shuddered. "Oh," I muttered under my breath. "I dunno, Rares. Maybe 'cause Rainbow saved you with a larger margin than the Hero did me. After all, she caught you and them Wonderbolt fellers and kept descending for another few hundred meters at least." "That makes some sense," she sighed. I watched her plunge into thought once more. I wasted no time in setting up the next tree, and bucking the apples out of it. Nearly fifty fell from that tree, all landing in one bucket or another. "Could also be that I saw it coming, while you did not." "That works too," I replied, not paying much attention. "Sweetie wants me to thank you for saving her crush yesterday," Rarity blurted after a moment of silence. I stopped the buck that was about to make its mark on a tree. "Ya didn't tell her it was me, didja?" I glared at her. "You of all ponies know I hate the limelight." "Of course I didn't. I described what I witnessed as a cloaked pony that saved that poor colt," she cooed, reassuring me that I was still as anonymous among the local press as I was yesterday. "But I know that I saw a hero that day." I blushed slightly as she flattered me for what felt like the millionth time this year. "Oh stop, I'm no hero. I'm just AJ." She whispered something that I thought I heard, but desperately wanted to confirm. "What was that?" She shrunk away, mimicking Fluttershy's tactic of hiding behind her curly purple mane. This only added to my curiosity. Something was up, and I wanted to know what. "I dunno what ye'r hidin' for, Rares. Just tell me anything, and I'll give you the truth of the matter." I smiled in her direction, or at least, I thought I did. For all I know I could have turned into a manticore, because she bolted off faster than a sonic rainboom. Something was up, and I wanted in. I looked around, by force of new instinct. The numbers ticked on, slowly descending towards zero. And though I knew what happened when a clock hit zero, I was afraid of seeing it. I was very much afraid of seeing a clock stop. I trotted down the road, seeing everypony go about their business while I watched over them like a hawk. Though I didn't much like it, I wore a dark brown cloak that obscured most every distinguishable feature about me. It was necessary to keep the press away. I saw one of them asking a middle aged shop-owner about what he had seen when the piano fell, specifically, parts involving me. I passed right on by, ignoring them. I continued on at a relaxed pace, listening and watching with utmost care for anything just a hair out of place. I watched the numbers like a hawk. I somehow ended up at the same fountain I had sat upon yesterday before the incident, and decided to sit down on it again. Next to me was a rather attractive, if I do say so myself, brown mare with a black mane. By looking at the definition of her face and the slight dullness in her green eyes, I could guess that she was somewhere in her mid thirties. I looked up at her number, seeing a firm forty years plus. I looked her over once more, seeing a second number on her, just above her belly. I smiled to her from beneath my hood as a silent 'Congratulations' of sorts. After she returned the smile, I turned my attention back to the crowd before me. A blaring siren hit my ears, near deafening me. An ambulance wagon had rushed into the Ponyville market, stopping before one of the houses. I made my way over, quickly and quietly. Something made me itch about this. Two paramedics came out of the building with an elderly mare on a stretcher. An oxygen mask was on her muzzle, and her eyes stared blankly into space. I moved closer. I saw a bright number above her: 14.81. I watched helplessly as it ticked down, her last few seconds draining from her. Just as the paramedics got her into the wagon, her clock struck zero. A cherry red 0.00 hung over her for a moment, before flickering from existence like a candle being blown out. She still looked like she had time, but I bowed my head in respect, knowing she was already gone. Others prayed for her return to health. I prayed for her soul to live in heaven. They didn't see what I saw. I walked back to the fountain, taking a seat upon it, the pregnant mare having walked away while I was gone. I watched the crowd, the cluster of numbers blending together like two different shades of the same color paint. I watched for something, anything to make those numbers descend faster than normal. I saw a pony light a cigar on his balcony, plopping in a wooden rocking chair. His number dropped by fifteen minutes the instant he took his first drag of it. I saw a homeless stallion with a dirt-encrusted beard in the dark of an alley, sniffing at something on his hoof. His clock shot down by thirty years, leaving just four more for him. I grimaced, watching the numbers beat down their ponies. I saw a young stallion wearing a white headband running down the street. He wore a dark green jersey with the emblem of the local Ponyville High Cross-Country team on both sides. As he ran, his clock descended slower than everypony else's. I saw a young filly with a cold through a window, drinking a glass of orange juice, her clock descending in the seconds column at its normal pace, but the minutes column rose by two as she finished it off. I smiled, seeing the numbers being beaten back. There was hope for everypony. A pair of gears snapped me to attention. My eyes darted to where they were, locking onto the Hero. I stood, having found who I'd been waiting for. I followed him a few meters behind, my eyes fixed upon him alone. The brighter ponies around me made it hard to keep my gaze upon his more subtle and neutral color, but I could pinpoint him because of it as well. I grinned to myself, catching up as he broke from the crowd, headed towards a house. I followed closely behind, watching as he slipped inside, unnoticed by everypony but me. I crept over to his door, smiling as I got closer to meeting the Hero that had saved my life. I stifled a giggle of anticipation, my hoof already reaching to knock on the door. "What do you want?" the pony behind the door hissed, the door open just enough for him to see my cloaked form standing outside his doorstep. I removed my hood, letting him see my face. Upon doing so, he opened the door enough for me to slip in. "Ah. You. Come in. I suppose you have questions." I walked away, becoming a grain of salt in a glass of water. As I dissolved into the crowd, I noticed something else slightly peculiar. In all actuality, it was far more than peculiar. Celestia was on her chariot above us, descending to Ponyville. I could only guess what was in store for Twilight, or perhaps even all of us 'Element bearers'. I chuckled, wondering if the Princess had a number. Then I wondered if she had a number. I made my way to Twilight's library, genuine curiosity guiding my hooves. Something about today was just straight up driving me up a wall. Rarity acting like Fluttershy near me, Celestia dropping by unannounced, an elderly mare dying as I witnessed. I could swear I was either having one hell of a drunk dream from a night of Granny Smith's hard cider, or I was just losing my marbles. I sincerely hoped for the former. Losing my marbles was definitely not on my to-do list. I arrived at the library within a minute or two, seeing that the others had already gathered there. I saw Pinkie bouncing around inside, and Twilight near insane with the Princess standing over her. I knocked twice and entered. "Applejack, just who I wanted to see," the Princess greeted, catching me by surprise. I looked up at her, half expecting to see a number above her head. And a number I did see, but it was a different number than what I had expected. A lone number one stood proudly above her, beaming with pride that it was the number above the Princess' royal noggin. "How have things been?" "A mighty spell strange, I reckon," I answered. "My student tells me you can see time," she said bluntly. She might as well have smacked me with a canoe paddle. "I reckon so," I replied, keeping it percussive. "Sixty-three for Rarity, sixty-eight for both Twilight and Fluttershy, sixty for Rainbow Dash, and seventy for Pinkamena Diane Pie," she recited. "Assuming I remember correctly." I looked around. "Looks about right." "But what of your own?" she asked, grinning smugly as though she knew the answer already. "I have no number," I admit. Everypony in the room gasped, save for the Princess, who's smile had only grown like a troll that had stabbed a pony in the hoof as they passed over the troll's bridge. "Wh-" I cut her off, continuing, "I have no number, because of the task I now hold. This accursed blessin' I now bear does not allow me to have one because I am willingly puttin' myself in immediate life-treatenin' danger at every opportunity. I have no number because my number changes too much." "Very good, but there is more," she chuckled teasingly. I couldn't help but think of her as a troll, laughing as it stabbed innocent passersby. The mental nickname Trollestia came to mind, eliciting a muffled chortle from me. "Tell me, Applejack. What is my number?" "Yer number hasn't budged, yer highness," I started. "It's a one." "And why, do you think, has it not moved like everypony else's?" "Because ye'r immune to death by natural causes," I answered simply. "Alicorns don't die of old age. But that don't make ya exempt from Death." "Bravo." "Not hard to follow," I chortled. The questions were too obvious. "Might I ask why ye'r here, Princess? Princesses don't visit Ponyville without some sort of business." "Blunt, as always," Trollestia laughed. I smirked as she did so. "I've heard that the numbers have been wearing on your mental health. I can make the numbers disappear." I pondered it for a moment, wondering who had told Celestia that. I had only complained of the numbers being a mild nuisance to one pony here. "Hell no." Rarity nearly fainted from my 'unbecoming' behavior and language in use towards a princess, while Twilight's eyes caught fire, her mane and tail threatening to follow suit. The rest of my friends simply gasped like Pinkie when she meets a new pony. "I may find it a mild nuisance to see how much time everypony has left, but I can do so much good with it. I can, nay, I have saved lives with this. I am no Hero, but I know my place here. I shall keep my sight the way it is now, and deal with the consequences when they come," I near growled. I was irked by the implication that I didn't want this. Sure, at the moment I got it, I didn't. I was damn near Pinkamena-level cuckoo. But now that I had actually been able to do something with it, I wanted to keep this... Sight of mine. I wanted to be able to protect ponies. Deep down inside, I wanted to be a Hero. Author's Note And so, we introduce a plot. I think I might go far beyond a threeshot with this one. It feels great to write this one. It's just coming naturally. I hope you guys are enjoying this story. :P <3 DarqFox This was the fastest 2k+ word update I've done, coming in at under 14 hours. I'm damn proud.
SaviorAn itch in my hooves woke me up that morning. The rooster had crowed bright and early as usual, but failed to rouse me from the depths of my slumber. I'm sure Applebloom had knocked at my door many times to see if I was awake yet, but at the moment, I didn't really care. Not until I got some coffee. I set my forehooves down on the floor, the itch in them tempting me to raise them back up and scratch them against the bedpost. But I ignored it. I knew trying to scratch an itch in your hoof was a waste of time. I stood up, taking care to stretch my tired muscles before the day's work. It had become a sort of therapy for me. Out in the orchard, there were no numbers. There were no ponies to bother me, no numbers to watch tick dismally downward. But most of all, I had time to think about what had happened in the past week. I had been saved by the Hero, I had become a Hero, and I had made a firm choice to remain a Hero. I could see numbers, nay, I could see time. I could see life drain from ponies like water from a leaky bucket. I could see the direct effects of actions on the clocks of a pony. Smoking, drugs, exercise, eating habits, medicine, even things as simple as having fun with friends and enjoying one's self. Every action I had seen had a direct effect on the clock of the performer. I meditated each action as I bucked a tree, forty or so apples falling from it. I bucked each tree with every ounce of strength I had, letting loose a rain of apples from each one. But I wasn't bucking the trees for my family, or my farm. Nay. I was doing everything to keep my sense of identity clean. I was a Hero, but I was a farmer first. I had meditated on why Rarity could possibly be more timid than a jackrabbit around me, and resolved to confront her about it. The whole idea of somepony acting that way near me didn't quite sit right in my stomach. Especially Rarity. My best friend in the group acting weird near me where she'd normally be solid definitely rung a bell in the back of my mind. Something was up with Rarity, and I wanted in. I trotted through town, paying attention to the numbers I saw but not focusing on them. I had a different task in mind than being a vigilante that day. I passed by the numerous shops on the way through town, the owners inside waving through the windows at me. I responded with silent nods, tipping my hat in their direction. Groups of foals ran by, playing tag or other games, laughing and squealing with delight. Laughter trilled through the bright, cloudless spring day, not a hint of anything out of place. Everything was set for a perfect day. After ten minutes of walking, I finally reached my destination. I knocked at the door twice before entering. The stuffy atmosphere inside was humid with dust, and tasted stale. I could guess that it had been more than a year since a window had been open in the old library. I looked around, and froze as my eyes gazed upon something that I wish desperately that I could un-see. On a red sofa, Twilight lay on her back, her lips locked to Fluttershy's, who was laying flat on top of her, her left forehoof resting on the unicorn's chest. I watched them, paralyzed with shock, for maybe five minutes. I screamed at myself to look away, walk away, do something, but to no avail. My hooves were as attached to the ground as a cutie mark was to a pony. After another four minutes of urging myself to move, I finally managed to snap my jaw shut. I shook my head vigorously, hoping to erase the image from my mind like an Etch-A-Sketch. Sadly, it didn't work. "Um. Hi?" I said, feeling like Fluttershy did in front of new ponies. The two ignored me, continuing their make-out session. I grinned like Discord, an evil thought entering my head. But that's just a bit harsh. So what? They're makin'-out right in front of ya! And who am I to interrupt? I brushed the evil thought from my mind, going for a more acceptable method of interrupting the two. With extreme care, I poked Twilight and Fluttershy in the cheek. The two shot apart faster than two magnets held north-to-north. They both stared at me with expressions similar to that which I made when I saw the two in the first place. I put on as best an innocent smile as I could. "Well howdy," I greeted awkwardly. "Hey, Applejack," Fluttershy greeted, climbing off Twilight as the unicorn pulled herself to a sitting position. "I'll get straight to the point, so y'all can go back ta whatever it is y'all were plannin' on doin'," I teased, semi-serious. "Rarity's been actin' a bit weirder than she usually does around me. And it's only around me. Either of ya know what the hay is goin' on with 'er?" The two mares before me looked at each other, and I swear I saw a devious glint in their eyes. Seconds later, both of them exploded in laughter as though it were a coordinated prank. I raised an eyebrow at them, wondering if they had suddenly gone bonkers. They stopped after a while, looking at me with knowing grins. "It's about damn time you got curious," Fluttershy of all ponies berated me. "You're more dense than Twily here." She shrunk slightly, "I'm sorry... Was that too much?" Twilight blushed, rubbing the back of her head with a sheepish grin on her face. I looked at Fluttershy funny. It was definitely not in her nature to act this way. But then again, it wasn't in her nature to make out with Twilight so far as I knew. I found myself once again praying that this was just a drunk dream from a night of Granny's hard cider. "Rarity's been flirting with you, Applejack," the pegasus continued. "Her feelings for you are possibly greater than mine are for Twilight." It made perfect sense. Shyness, stuttering after certain comments, which now that I look back on must have teased the daylights out of her, and most of all: her visits to the farm. She hated getting dirty, and what worse place to go to stay clean than a farm? The questions then started rolling in like fog. "Any idea where she is now? I haven't seen her in a while," I asked. "Which now that I think about it, is really strange." "She's on her way back from a Seamstress' Guild meeting in Manehatten. She should be coming back this afternoon," Twilight answered. "Trains from Manehatten arrive at the station at two, four, and seven this afternoon. She'll be on one of the three." I looked around for a real clock. I saw a grandmother clock on a wall, reading one-fifty in the afternoon. "Well, if that's the case, I'll be at the station all day if y'all need me." I turned and walked to the door of the library, hearing the two... lovers... behind me reposition themselves. As soon as their breathing got heavy, I got out of that library faster than a mouse from a snake-hole. As a new habit, I wore my brown cloak just about every time I went out in public. The media had long since abandoned the effort of trying to find the Hero that saved whatever-the-colt's-name-was from dashing off a cliff, but I didn't want to be recognized for any future actions. Rarity described the Hero that saved that colt as a cloaked pony, even though that was an outright lie. But I insisted on making her lie the truth. That's what best friends are for... Right? I sat on a bench at the train station, watching ponies go about their business. Leaving, arriving, picking up relatives, dropping off friends. I watched an elderly mare arrive with a solid twenty years left be escorted from the station by what I could only assume was her daughter, who I recognized as the pregnant mare from a few days before. I smiled. The elderly mare would see her grandfoal graduate high-school, and maybe. Just maybe, she'd be able to send the foal off to college. I saw a middle aged stallion with his son, both carrying a large load of bags to a luggage cart. The stallion was near tears, but he didn't show it. As his colt turned slightly, I saw the emblem of Hoofard University on his jacket. I smiled. The stallion was sending his son to one of the most prestigious universities in Equestria. It was a miracle his pride hadn't liquefied and overflowed from his eyes. If I were his parent, I'd drown the station with proud tears. I watched Cheerilee and a group of other adult ponies leading an amorphous blob of young ponies onto a train for what I assumed to be the Canterlot Gardens field-trip. I smiled, remembering Applebloom and the Crusaders had gone there a few months earlier, but Discord escaped and ruined the trip. That was likely a make-up trip. I watched the crowd, my eyes peeled for Rarity among them. The clock across the platform read two o'clock. After the passengers had gotten off and I saw no Rarity, I sighed and sunk back into deep thought, primarily of the unicorn I was waiting for. Something was stirring in my chest, but I didn't quite understand what it was I was feeling. Why me? Why would somepony like Rarity develop a crush on me. I'm as far from similar to her as it gets! Plus, she knows how conservative my family is! But the stirring in my chest roared in protest. Something about her... The clock across the platform struck four as another train pulled into the station. With a loud screech, the train stopped, blasting forth a wave of steam onto the platform. Passengers got off the train, trotting off to their business, unawares of their ticking clocks. I saw a colt from Manehatten University arrive with nopony waiting for him. He looked around, as though expecting somepony. But he grinned when he saw no one waiting for him. I grinned with him, realizing that he was planning to surprise his folks. They probably had absolutely no idea he was here. The train pulled up after the passengers had done whatever maneuvering they needed to, be it get on, get off, or move up a car or two. It halted once more, freight cars now waiting at the station. A crane that I had not noticed roared to life, plucking a massive steel storage crate from one of the flat-bed cars. The train moved forward as the crane moved the crate to a storage yard behind the station. Twelve crates were plucked from the train before it left with four remaining crates, bound for the next destination. Seeing no Rarity, I plunged back into my thoughts of her. Three hours passed in the blink of an eye. The clock struck seven, waking me from a nap I didn't know I had taken. As the train pulled into the station, the crane roared to life once more, plucking a crate from the storage yard to place on the train. I looked around, seeing Rarity stepping off a car. A baggage colt was busy gathering some of her belongings from a different car, placing them on a baggage cart. She looked around a little bit, but did not see me. I smiled. Her number skipped downwards by nearly twelve years each hop. I looked up, seeing a crate hovering over her. The cable by which it was suspended was frayed slightly, and I saw it coming. I dashed forwards, knocking innocent ponies out of the way forcefully. I slid beneath one that was too tall to leap over, and bounded over two young foals, covering the twenty meters to Rarity in something close to three seconds. I barreled straight into her, knocking her out of the way. My hooves found their way around her as I pulled her close and took the fall for our landing. The wind created by the falling crate frazzled both of our manes, and crushed her luggage entirely. I heard screams of terror immediately after the crash of steel on concrete. Some panicked and ran away like they were on fire. Others stood frozen to the ground. One pony dashed straight to us. "You ponies alright?" the stallion asked. I unclenched my eyes, revealing the cobalt stallion. "We're fine," I replied, letting go of Rarity and standing up. I pulled the paralyzed unicorn up to her hooves, giving her a reassuring smile. "Can't say the same 'bout her luggage." "You should get her to a doctor to treat her for shock. Leaving that untreated is a bad idea," he said, giving a derpy smile before trotting off at a relaxed pace, whistling a happy tune as though nothing had happened. I smiled, casting my eyes back to Rarity. "You're okay, Rarity." Her face stared on past me, eyes wide in shock. I could tell she was seeing numbers. I sighed, almost chuckling to myself. I nudged her forwards with me, guiding her in the direction of the hospital. It took nearly an hour to reach the hospital. Her reaction to the numbers had been more like the Hero's, as he had told me when I visited him. She was easily distracted, still trying to overcome the shock. She walked up to ponies, trying to touch their numbers. She made huge scenes as we made our way to the hospital. Ponies stared at her for a bit, judging her as a loon, but I knew better. I could see what she was seeing now. Of course, my reaction had been a lot more controlled, but everypony's different. As we finally arrived at the hospital, we saw a patient being rolled hurriedly to a different part of the building. An elderly stallion lay upon the gurney, oxygen tubes sticking out of his nostrils. Above his head was a disheartening 8.33. Rarity watched as they rushed down the hall, his number descending closer to zero. She froze, seeing the same red 0.00 that I had the elderly mare at the market a few days earlier. She watched it flicker from existence, no doubt making the same comparison in her mind to a candle being blown out that I had. She had just witnessed death. "Rarity needs a check-up. She's in shock," I said calmly to Nurse Redheart at the front desk. She smiled, hailing a doctor without a word. The middle aged stallion of about forty years helped escort Rarity to a quiet room with a window. "Just treat the shock, nothing else." As I walked Rarity home, she was a lot more controlled, but virtually dead silent. It was good that she wasn't running up to ponies, trying to touch their numbers, but the silence made me uneasy. She looked around, watching numbers like I did. She looked up at the one above my head that I couldn't see. She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her before she could start, "Don't tell me my number. I'm sure you wanna tell me, but I don't wanna know." She closed her mouth. I smiled at her gently, "I want to treat ev'ry day as though it's my last. I don't wanna know how much time I have, 'cause I don't wanna start sayin' 'I got time, I can do that later.' I wanna make my time count, like I did today." "Applejack..." she started after a moment of hesitation. "What... What happened today..." We stopped in front of her home, the sun now below the horizon. I watched her intently, knowing what she wanted to say. "Tell me anything. I swear I will never give you anything less than the absolute truth," I whispered to her, smiling weakly. "I've been... meaning to tell you something... Would you mind coming inside for a moment?" Her voice was quiet as Fluttershy's but retained the quality that made it hers. It made my heart lurch a bit. I followed her inside. "I already know, Rares," I said as the door behind me closed. "Took me long enough to notice, and I had to ask Twi an' Fluttershy, but I finally did." She breathed a sigh of relief. She got closer to me, her eyes just a hoof away from mine. She stared into my eyes, seeing every aspect about me. She stared into my soul. She moved forward, pressing her soft lips to mine for a moment before pulling away. "That makes it a bit easier to explain why I kissed my savior." Author's Note Uploaded cover-art: Check Added Romance tag: Check Added 'No humans, despite cover image' to description: Check New chapter with the shipping: Check RariJack: Check TwiShy: Check Turning 'Just in Time' into a full-length story: Checkmate Well, everything seems in order. Finally worked the shipping in. Yay. And for all of you TwiShy fans. You're welcome. <3 DarqFox
