Midnight Belle (and the Case of the Vanishing Foals!)

No matter how Sweetie had tried to spin it, chores were still chores. Rarity had tried to make a sort of game out of it—’One half hour of mopping, then a game to break things up! Oh, and we can do each others’ hair after, won’t that be fun?’—but it hadn’t done much to distract Sweetie Belle from the monotony of manual labour. Rarity put in a surprising amount of working keeping the boutique in order, and Sweetie Belle had been less than enthused to take part in any of it. What was more was that, after so much work and the added downer of being absent from the after-school candy-party, every ‘sisterly’ activity had seemed like a chore in its own right. Things had finally come to a head when, during a two-pony game of ‘Go Fish’, Sweetie had thrown her cards across the table after Rarity’s third win in a row. Things had eventually settled amicably, but that had been the end of any attempts at fun, and Sweetie had gone to bed wondering if tomorrow would be any better.

It would be hard not to be though.

Another morning meant new possibilities. Sweetie had nodded through Rarity’s lecture about coming right home after school, though the thought of being suddenly ‘detained’ after school had been planted firmly in her mind as a result of what might be waiting for her were she to come home. She’d taken her lunchbox and smiled and nodded and made her way out the door.

That had left the question of which route to take to school in the first place. The encounter with the scraggly bearded stallion with something questionable beneath his cloak had left a sour taste in Sweetie’s mouth over her usual path, but at the same time, there was always the hope that things the day before had simply taken an arbitrary turn to negativity and would return to normal if Sweetie simply let them.

She took her normal route. She ran into no seedy-looking ponies in alleys. She made it to school with ten minutes to spare before class—more than normal.

Sweetie allowed herself a smile as she slid into her seat. Her lunchbox found its way into her desk, holding a delicately arranged sandwich with the crust meticulously removed, or whatever else her big sister had packed for her that day. Sweetie was used to more matter-of-fact lunches from her parents, but had no complaints to level about Rarity’s preparations—occasionally the portions were a little small, but the taste and care to detail more than made up for it. There was usually a chocolate something-or-other for dessert as well.

Sweetie kept her eyes between the wall-clock and the door as the minutes ticked towards the start of class. There was plenty of time to spare before Cheerilee’s lesson began, which meant that she and the other two crusaders could talk uninterrupted for longer than they had yesterday, and this time without nervously avoiding stares that might turn into more vocal reprimands if Cheerilee grew tired of their chatting, as hushed as it may have been. Scootaloo and Applebloom weren’t the type of fillies to show up to class particularly early, but they also weren’t the type to wait until five seconds before the bell rang to show up at school.

But five seconds to the hour came, and neither one walked through the door. The bell rang, and Cheerilee greeted the class.

“Good morning everypony! Welcome to another wonderful day at school. The weather today is quite nice, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes Miss Cheerilee,” the class answered in practiced echo. Cheerilee’s smile was indomitable, as always.

“Now, if everypony is seated, I’d like to begin going over today’s—” Cheerilee stopped mid-sentence, her attention drawn by the hoof waving at her from toward the back of class.

Sweetie Belle lowered her foreleg when it became apparent she had gotten her teacher’s attention.

“Yes, Sweetie Belle?” Cheerilee asked. The class’s heads turned in unison, as they tended to do when somepony other than Cheerilee was to be the focus of attention.

“Not everypony is here,” Sweetie Belle said. “Applebloom and Scootaloo aren’t here yet.”

Cheerilee looked at the seats on either side of Sweetie Belle as though she was just noticing their emptiness.

“I suppose you’re right. Do you happen to know where they are? If they’re running late, I’m certain you can share your notes when they arrive—”

“I was hoping you knew where they were,” Sweetie said. “Didn’t they give you sick notes or something?”

Cheerilee shook her head.

“I’m afraid not. I haven’t seen either Scootaloo or Applebloom since yesterday, nor have I gotten any sick notes.” Cheerilee paused for a moment, her eyes glossing over like gears were turning in her head. Several students shifted noticeably in their seats, acutely aware of how long a discussion with no end was already going on—and that aside, probably one that should have been entered into before class had started regardless.

Cheerilee turned her half-frown suddenly into a smile.

“Sweetie... perhaps we could talk about this a little more after the next bell? We do have a lot to go through today, after all.”

Sweetie nodded, but didn’t speak. She felt a strange lump in her throat, and swallowed to try to make it go away, but it stayed, stuck like a piece of taffy had glued itself to the inside of her esophagus.

Cheerilee nodded back at her and began the day’s lesson. Sweetie didn’t hear what her teacher was saying. She looked to either side of her desk. When her eyes reached Scootaloo’s usual spot, she looked further up, and found Diamond Tiara in her usual desk. Instead of watching Cheerilee’s instruction, Diamond Tiara looked straight at Sweetie Belle.

The usual snark in her expression was gone. She just stared. Her eyes shimmered, but she said nothing.

Sweetie Belle looked away after a few seconds. She focused on the blackboard, and tried to pay attention to what Cheerilee was saying.

Every other minute, she looked to one side or the other, and her frown grew a little deeper.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sweetie spoke with Cheerilee as directed, right after the first recess bell, but didn’t have much to say. Cheerilee had been as concerned as Sweetie had expected, but allayed Sweetie’s own worry by saying she’d be sure to touch base with Applebloom’s family. She didn’t mention anything about Scootaloo’s, though assumedly the workings were all in place there as well to see what was going on with the other absent filly as well. It wasn’t as though Scootaloo’s family was completely out of the picture—it just wasn’t a subject for discussion.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Cheerilee had said, placing her hoof reassuringly on Sweetie’s shoulder. “Everypony is so busy these days—it’s quite likely that even if they were sick, they wouldn’t have had time to get notes in. I’ll speak to their families and sort things out, don’t you worry.”

Sweetie had felt a little bit better, but the lump in her throat had remained regardless.

The day was already too grey to attempt a fancy trip home. Despite the sun shining overhead, Sweetie felt like there was a cloud following her, hovering over her head and drenching everything she looked at in old film-wash and dreary downpour. Sweetie tried to ignore it, and gave smiles to the few ponies she passed by on the way home—Mr. Breezy, who was setting up his windy display; Twilight, who’d given a smile and a wave on the way by, with Spike in tow, hauling a cartload of books with an unappreciated look on his face—but ultimately, no matter how much she focused on smiling, she couldn’t convince herself to feel right until she found out what had happened to her two friends.

Cheerilee was looking into it though. Surely when Sweetie showed up for school the next day, everything would be in place.

Sweetie threw her lunchbox carelessly onto the floor as she arrived home. She wanted just to leave it there and to let whatever morsels remained inside sour in the heat of the overhead sun, but she convinced herself the better of it after imagining the look on Rarity’s face at finding a spoiled apple-core cooking in a metal coffin on her perfectly cleaned boutique floor. Sweetie dragged the lunchbox to the kitchen like a lead weight and cleaned it out with as much enthusiasm as she could manage, which was likely somewhere in the negatives.

Then she went upstairs to her room, threw herself on the bed, and sighed.

There wasn’t really anything to do when your friends were elsewhere. Having two thirds of the Cutie Mark Crusaders missing at a free-candy extravaganza had been one thing, but having Applebloom and Scootaloo out of commission for unseeable, unknowable reasons, meant that Sweetie couldn’t even lament to the end of a function she was missing. She felt like the evening could only consist of waiting for sleep, so she could wake up the next day and head to school, and find out what Cheerilee had found out.

She considered asking Rarity for permission to be let out wandering, or maybe to just go to Applebloom’s house and ask what had kept her from school that day.

Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad idea at all—

The doorbell drew Sweetie from her sudden revelation. It sounded like a series of ornately arranged chimes, so fancy that only Rarity could have picked them out with any confidence. Normally the doorbell meant customers, but Sweetie suspected it was too late in the day for anypony to be visiting for dress commissioning. And, more than that, Sweetie felt something in her gut that told her the doorbell today was something different. While normally she would have stayed in her room, there wasn’t anything more entertaining about her bedsheets than the tile flooring downstairs, and the pony at the door might be someone she wanted to see. Sweetie dashed down the stairs, arriving at the bottom just as her sister opened the door.

“Oh, hello, Applejack. What brings you to mon château at this time of day? Do you require an extra guest for dinner, perhaps?”

Even though Sweetie couldn’t see Rarity’s face, she knew she was smiling in that over-the-top, self-caricaturish way she always did when she put on such a fancy accent. Well, moderately more fancy than her normal one anyway.

But Applejack wasn’t smiling. The sides of her mouth dipped almost to the bottom of her face, and as Sweetie watched, Applejack took her hat off and held it against her chest.

“‘fraid not, Rarity. Can I come in for a sec?”

Rarity’s posture didn’t flinch, but Sweetie imagined the smile disappearing from her face.

“Why... certainly, of course. Is something the matter? You look horribly out of sorts, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Applejack walked inside more delicately than she usually did anything, taking particular care to check her hooves for mud before she walked off the indoor welcome-mat. Rarity turned, and Sweetie could see a soft smile as her sister shut the door, evidently grateful at Applejack’s regard for the cleanliness of her boutique.

“Nah, I don’t mind at all, considerin’ I’m pretty much exactly that.” Applejack turned and put her hat back on her head, leaving it at an odd angle. Sweetie could only see half of Applejack’s face as she reoriented herself, but her eyes said more than the rest of her face entirely—they shimmered like a well was sparkling inside them, holding something fearsome behind the grass-green irises.

Rarity could see it too, and her mouth turned down again before she opened it just a tad, as though she meant to let out a sympathetic moan of distress.

“Listen, Rarity’,” Applejack started, her tone as businesslike as Sweetie had ever heard it. “Have you seen any sign of Applebloom in the last... half a day or so?”

Sweetie’s mouth fell open, unseen from the foot of the stairs. The lump in her throat grew, and finally allowed itself to be swallowed, where it settled obtrusively in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m afraid I haven’t,” Rarity said, tilting her head in concern. “Of course, I’ve been working all day, and Carousel Boutique isn’t the type of place Applebloom would normally visit, I don’t believe... has she been playing truant on you?”

“I sure hope so,” Applejack said. “She’s been missin’ all day. She was set to stay home sick from school, on account of not feelin’ well—some kinda stomach flu, I think—but when I went to check up on her an hour or two after school started, she was gone. Been lookin’ for her all day.”

Rarity’s mouth fell open further, while Sweetie’s did the opposite, clamming up in lieu of any further distance to distend.

“I’ve searched everywhere.... all over the farm, every barn, every tree that mighta had a hollowed out stump or some place to hide. I even went to her clubhouse, but she ain’t nowhere to be found.”

“My goodness.” Rarity stood with a hoof just on the corner of her mouth, apparently unable to think of anything more to say. The weight of her two words sunk into the air, forming an awkward silence out of necessity.

“Where on earth do you think she might be?” Rarity finally asked, moving her hoof to lower the brim of the red-glasses she was wearing, apparently left on in absent-mindedness after the doorbell had drawn her from her sewing work.

“I dunno.” Applejack kicked a hoof at the floor, taking care enough not to scuff it, but communicating her frustration regardless. “I’ve looked every place I can think of, and now I’m goin’ around askin’ folk if they’ve seen her, or if they have any idea about where she mighta ended up. I’m thinkin’ that if Rainbow Dash hasn’t seen anythin’, I’m’a go to the Mayor and organize some kinda search party, if I can.”

Rarity nodded solemnly.

“I dare say that might not be a bad idea. Have you spoken to Scootaloo’s... er...”

“Scootaloo’s missing too.”

The voice that chimed in wasn’t Applejack’s. Sweetie stood finally from her place on the stairs, and bounded down the last several to the surprised looks of Applejack and Rarity.

“She wasn’t at school, and Miss Cheerilee hadn’t heard anything about where she was either.”

“Sweetie Belle! Why didn’t you say anything about this when you got home?” Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed behind her glasses, her glare set dead-on at Sweetie Belle.

“Because I didn’t think I needed to! Cheerilee said she was gonna ask about it, and I didn’t wanna make you any more worried than you already were...”

“Well maybe there’s a reason I was so worried. Two fillies vanishing is one thing, but heaven forbid any more should go missing... Applejack, I believe we have an epidemic on our hands.”

Applejack nodded.

“I’m gonna go get over to the mayor’s then. Dash mighta seen somethin’a’ Scootaloo, if she was just playin’ hooky, but I’d rather get somethin’ underway before it’s too dark to see anything.”

Applejack nodded, mostly to herself, and made her way back to the door. She opened and stepped outside without waiting to be seen out, although she paused before walking off completely.

“Thanks anyway, Rarity. I guess I’ll see ya’ if we get some kinda search goin’ on, assumin’ you’ll be there.”

“Of course, of course. Go ahead, and I’ll try to put some kind of ‘search party ensemble’ together. Something with nice, loud colours, perhaps.”

Applejack didn’t even pause to take issue with Rarity’s fashion consciousness in the face of possible life-threatening danger. She gave one last small nod, staring off into the distance, and then bolted off like a shot from a cannon, leaving Sweetie Belle and Rarity alone in the boutique.

“Do you think Applebloom and Scootaloo are okay?” Sweetie could feel the tremble in her voice as tears threatened to escape from the corners of her eyes. Rarity seemed to noticed the same thing, as she walked until she was next to her sister and kneeled, running a hoof through Sweetie’s candy-coloured mane as the tiny filly sniffled.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Sweetie. Disappearances are not a first in Ponyville... goodness knows the rest of the girls and I have put a stop to more than a few nefarious schemes here and there, and I’m sure more than one of them at some point has involved somepony or another disappearing.”

Sweetie sniffled again and let Rarity’s hoof wipe the first trickle of tears from her cheek.

“Come on now. Let’s go into the kitchen and make some hot chocolate. I be that will cheer you up.”

Sweetie let herself be led into the kitchen, where a repository of cocoa and tiny marshmallows were waiting. She wanted to believe her sister—that despite the sour feeling in her stomach, that Applejack’s search party would be the only step necessary to put things in town back into place, and that the next day she’d arrive at school with her friends waiting for her, and Silver Spoon and Twist as well, all of them smiling, and the air thick with relief at no more worrying about what might or might not have happened to the poor young fillies who had gone missing so suddenly.

She wanted to believe it, but she wasn’t sure she could.