hearts, deep in their hiding places,
By Nines/cajeck
Originally posted December 14th, 2019 on FimFiction.Net. Also featured on Equestria Daily.
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Have begun to hope once more,
The setting sun streamed through her curtainless window, rosy fingers caressing the edges and curves of her belongings in soothing warm tones. Beautiful as this was, it didn't speak to her. No, she preferred the shades of gray that sprouted up where the light couldn’t reach. Not quite darkness yet, but it was taking strength. An in-between time. Here she found solace, in the young shadows where her muddy boots sliced a determined line from the closed door straight to the bed.
Applejack collapsed onto the quilted covers and allowed a slow exhale to escape her.
She loved the evenings. A time free of the day’s struggles and all the night’s laments. Her thoughts usually went nowhere, just how she liked it. Work was a good balm to an anxious soul, her Ma had once said.
She felt a deep satisfactory ache from her neck down to each of her toe digits—a prevailing sense that she had given her all out there in those fragrant orchards and verdant fields. She stripped out of her dusty garments slowly—her plaid button-up shirt crumpled in one big sweaty mass, her jeans peeled off like a dusty second skin, her socks made a damp pungent heap at the foot of her bed. Time for a bath. In just her underwear now, she went for the bathrobe hanging by the door to make the short trek across the hall.
Then her cell phone began to ring from her jeans back pocket on the floor.
Applejack halted and blinked at it. Her family was home, so none of them could be the callers. Relatives hardly rang unless there was some sort of reunion going on. This was her personal phone, so it couldn’t be a customer. A neighbor? No, she only ever gave their number out to the Cabbages, but they had moved six months ago. One of her friends, then.
The evening’s sanctuary seemed to shrink away from her as she retrieved her phone from her pants. She could guess who it was. She wanted to be wrong.
She closed her eyes at the name on the display.
With a steadying breath, Applejack answered. “Hello, Fluttershy.”
The sun bore down on them from a cloudless sky, broken only thanks to the mercy of their apple trees’ dense, winding branches. Their emerald leaves shivered with each gust of the breeze, creating a chorus in the orchard that soothed her. Some folk had the ocean’s murmur. She had the joyful song of trees.
Applejack plucked her last apple and placed it carefully in her basket before she started her way back down the ladder.
In the last few years, automated harvests had become possible for apple growers. At first, she’d resisted the idea, but thanks to her agricultural studies at Everfree University, Applejack was now hopeful Sweet Apple Acres could someday invest in its own robot harvesters. Until then, they had to do it the old fashioned way with lots of seasonal help.
Of course, they were short on workers this year. Again.
She carefully emptied her basket into a large wooden crate on a pallet, that in turn was on a carriage hooked up to a small tractor. They’d drive the tractor over to a loading area, and from there, use a forklift to load the full crate onto a truck bed nearby. This was the last crate for this section of the orchard.
“You about done, Big Mac?” Applejack hollered down the tree row. “We gotta go join the workers.”
When she received no response, she sighed and dropped her empty basket, then moved down the row. Fifteen trees later, she found her brother standing at the foot of his ladder, his basket full but at his feet. He was staring ahead at nothing.
“Big Mac?”
He looked at her, startled. Dark bags were under his eyes.
Applejack tilted her hat further back on her head, her forehead wrinkling. “Big Mac, come on now. We gotta git.”
He nodded, his messy orange locks flopping limply into his eyes. When he lifted the basket and came closer, a noticeable stench hit her nose. She made a face. “Mac, when was the last time you had a wash? You smell bad enough to gag a maggot!”
He shrugged and let two fingers raise up from the basket handle.
Applejack clicked her tongue. “Honestly, Mac! Two days? I’m just ’bout fed up with this behavior of yours. The workers can’t be seeing their employers looking like ten miles of bad road, y’hear? Now you just go straight to the house after this and clean up.”
Big Mac only shrugged again as he emptied his basket into the crate.
Applejack passed him and climbed up to the tractor seat. She started the vehicle up, enjoying the thrum of the engine coursing through her—
Then she realized Big Mac still wasn’t with her. She looked back, annoyed that he hadn’t been following behind. He was staring down at the apples, lost again. Applejack sighed roughly and turned the tractor engine off.
She leaned back in her seat and looked up at the sky. “Mac, when are you gonna let this go? When are you gonna let her go?”
She heard him grunt.
“That so? And I suppose this is part o’ your strategy to win her back, huh? To smell like a pig and a skunk got together and had one too many drinks?”
“She changed her number,” he finally said. His deep voice was phlegmy and rasped. “I went by her house and it got a ‘for sale’ sign on the front lawn. House is dark and empty.” He coughed, but she knew better. He was holding back tears. “She’s gone,” he said, with all the finality of a knife to the heart.
Applejack slouched and rested an elbow on the rear seat cushion. Her fingers tapped idly on the steering wheel. “So that’s that then, eh?”
“Eyup.”
Silence. She was usually comfortable with these lulls when it came to her brother—they often could say more to each other without words than with them—but now it didn’t feel right.
“It didn’t work out, Big Mac. Sometimes that happens. Ya can’t stop taking care of yourself all a-cuz some girl told you to kick rocks.” She pursed her lips. “People are still depending on us. Granny Smith, Apple Bloom, the workers… This farm keeps roofs over people’s heads. Food on their tables. We got responsibilities.” At his continued silence, Applejack sighed roughly. “It’s been months, I really don’t know why you can’t let this go.”
“Fluttershy.”
A single, pointed retort. In just that one breath, her brother had cut through her. For a brief moment, all she could do was stare at the steering wheel, her lungs seizing.
When Applejack spoke, it was choked and slow. “You know that ain’t even remotely the same.”
He snorted. She heard his boots crunch over the dirt and within the next second, Big Mac was standing at the other side of the tractor, his arms crossed and his eyes glaring.
She glared right back at him. “It ain’t the same! You see me fallin’ apart over something that never happened? That never will happen?”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
Applejack clenched her jaw. “For the last time, I ain’t tellin’ her, Big Mac.”
He shook his head at her, then climbed up into the tractor carriage. She grimaced as his body odor engulfed her. She nudged him hard with her elbow. “You need a bath. Bad,” she said.
Applejack started the tractor up again. As she shifted into gear, she couldn’t help but glance at her brother again. He was gazing at her hard. At this distance, she could see his green eyes were bloodshot.
“Big Mac, quit it,” she snapped, looking away. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
They bumped and jostled in their seats as the tractor drove down the row of apple trees. Applejack peered at her brother and found he still hadn’t ceased his staring.
“I mean it! I’ll box those big ears o’ yours, Mac, don’t think I won’t!”
“Hmph,” he said.
“Mister, you are outta your mind if you think anything good will happen from my telling her.”
He actually chuckled at that.
She looked at him sharply. “What?”
Big Mac shook his head again.
“Damn it, Big Mac, spit it out!”
He looked at her, a smirk on his face. “Nope.”
Applejack had to resist shoving her brother out of the tractor carriage. How could someone so quiet be so infuriating?
“Hello, Applejack. I’m ever so sorry to disturb you this evening, but I didn’t know who else to call!” Fluttershy sounded breathless. Distortion came over the line like she was outside in the wind.
Applejack sat down on her bed and leaned on her knees. Her hand covered her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh! Well, you see, I was getting in some volunteer work at the wildlife rehabilitation center when one of the new employees let an injured fox escape! They were going to wait until morning to try and find it again, but I told them I knew someone who could help us right now! So… could you? Pretty please?” At Applejack’s silence, Fluttershy said next in a rush: “Oh Applejack, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything to them until I spoke with you, but this fox just had surgery and he needs to rest before he goes back into the wild. If we don’t find him—”
Fluttershy’s anxious rambling became a low squeak when Applejack took the phone from her ear. She stared at the floor, her chest tight, and wondered if she had it in her to do this. Again. The last time Fluttershy had called her for something like this was five months ago. It still felt like yesterday.
Her earlier conversation with Big Mac rose up in her mind like a corpse in still water.
Applejack pressed the phone back to her ear.
“—maybe was affected by Equestrian magic? I’m really not sure how else he could have bypassed the security with how weak he was. The surgery was just yesterday. It’s as though he saw an opening in their routine and capitalized!”
She stood up and went to her closet. “It’s all right, Fluttershy. Don’t worry too much about it. I'll help you find that critter. Just give me a bit to get ready. In the meantime, why don’t you text me the address?”
“Okay! Thank you!”
After ending the call, Applejack gazed quietly at her clothes on their hangers. She thought of her conversation with Apple Bloom earlier.
Applejack hummed to a country tune on the radio, her truck idling as she watched for signs of her sister. She was outside of Canterlot High School, parked just a little down the road along with other parents waiting for their kids.
It was late afternoon. The sunlight came down at a vicious angle, searing rays reaching past her truck's visor with almost mocking ease. She leaned away from the light, her elbow resting on the center console. Sitting this way, she found herself in a position where just enough shade came over her head to soothe her aching eyes.
Her attention wandered. It didn't for long.
Every time she came here, without fail, she found herself considering the horse statue across from the school entrance, wondering yet again what it would be like to go to Equestria. Sunset Shimmer said if any of them went through the hidden portal, they would most certainly become ponies. They had all been fascinated by the prospect, but ultimately felt too wary to undergo such a drastic change. There were days, though, when Applejack would daydream about being able to run free on four hooves. To live in a world where magic was commonplace, and adventure was never far.
It sounded so much more straightforward and simple.
The bell rang. Within minutes, students began to pour out the front doors. After a short time of waiting, Apple Bloom’s red hair came into view, her vibrant locks practically ignited in the afternoon sun.
When she neared the truck, Applejack could see an ugly scowl on Apple Bloom's face.
Her sister said not a word as she clambered into the truck, but when she shut the door, she slammed it so hard the vehicle rocked. Apple Bloom shoved her green backpack down at her feet with heated jabs. Then after a small pause, she struck it a few more times until the top was smashed in and her knuckles shone pink. Her eyes glared searingly at the dashboard, one fiery strand of hair swaying before her tightened face.
“Well, hello to you too,” Applejack said with a bemused smile. She removed her elbow from the center console and straightened in her seat, a grimace flashing across her face as the sun hit her eyes again.
“I’m gonna kill ’er, Applejack." Apple Bloom snarled. Her eyes didn't leave the dashboard, their gaze unfocused. No doubt, she was imagining the object of her wrath. "If I hear one more word outta that prissy mouth o’ hers, I’m gonna tan her snobby hide!” Her hands gripped her knees like tense claws.
“Diamond Tiara again?” Applejack shifted into gear and waited for an opportunity to pull out into the street. Pickup at CHS was always a zoo.
“Yes!” Apple Bloom ripped her seatbelt out and jammed the clip into the belt buckle. “She made Sweetie Belle cry again! One of these days—”
Applejack looked at her sidelong. “Don’t go doing anything foolish.”
“She’s begging for it!”
“That may be the case, but it don’t mean ya gotta give it to her.”
Apple Bloom huffed and crossed her arms.
“You can’t dwell on this, Apple Bloom,” Applejack said with a sigh as she pulled out onto the road. How many times did they have to go through this? She turned down her radio volume and looked at her sister. “All this fuss ain’t doing anything to help Sweetie Belle, and it sure as heck ain’t getting Diamond Tiara to stop. There’s more to life than just wishing ill on folk you don’t get along with.”
“She’s my mortal enemy,” Apple Bloom said solemnly, her bright amber eyes burning with an inner fire. “Someday, I’ll get her to stop. Someday.”
“Just not today,” Applejack said, patting her sister on the shoulder. “Today, I want you to finish your homework quick, then come out and help us with the last of the day’s apple pickin’.”
“Which section?”
“Section ten. With any luck, the other workers will have finished nine and we can get right to eight tomorrow.”
A snort. “When’s that ever the case?”
Applejack shrugged. “I like to hope.”
“You sure do.” Apple Bloom glanced at her. “How’s Granny Smith?”
“She’s all right. Had to fight to get ’er to take her meds this mornin’. She fed the chickens. She still refuses to do the crossword puzzles. She’s eating good, at least. I’m hoping she regains some o’ that weight she lost last year. She just about inhaled a plate of apple fritters I made ’er.”
“And Big Mac?”
Applejack let out a wry chuckle. “Bathed, thank goodness. He’s back with the workers now.”
“No, I mean, how is he?”
Applejack sighed. “The same as last week, Apple Bloom. Gloomy as all get out.”
“Poor Mac…”
Applejack pursed her lips. “Don’t go worrying about him. Heck, he brings it on himself, pining like he is. You just focus on your schoolwork and chores.”
“‘Brings it on himself’?” Apple Bloom’s voice took on an edge. “Are you serious?”
Applejack scowled. She shifted to a stop as they came to a red light, her eyes finding her sister’s. “What do you mean?”
Apple Bloom tongued her cheek.
“What?”
“Applejack, there are days I think you’ve only got one oar in the water.” She shook her head. “I get that you’re trying to keep it together for all our sakes, but damn if you ain’t blind!”
Applejack made a face. “You been watching those silly motivational videos again? What’s brought this on?”
“I’m just sayin’, you do as much pining as he does. You just got a better face for it.”
Now Applejack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Apple Bloom…”
“Fine, fine. But I just want you to know—you keeping mum about your feelings for Fluttershy ain’t foolin’ nobody.” She stuck her tongue out, then looked out her passenger window. “So excuuuuse me if I still wanna plot out my enemy’s destruction for a while longer.”
Applejack opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut with a growl.
The light turned green. She eased the truck back into motion.
“Sometimes I wish I was an only child,” Applejack mumbled.
“HA! Then who would you boss around?”
She swatted Apple Bloom with her hat.
When Applejack arrived at the White Tail Wildlife Rehabilitation Center, it was to find Fluttershy already waiting outside, shivering in a light green skirt and a flimsy yellow jacket. The warm evening light cooled to a rich plum, letting the darkness grow in earnest. Nighttime.
She hated nighttime.
She usually went to bed early. The night was dangerous. The dark it wreaked on the world made it much harder to see, and so much easier to feel...
Flutters ran up to the driver's side where Applejack had the window rolled down. Her rosy cheeks were evident even in the dying sunlight. Pink strands of her hair danced about her fair features in the light wind.
“Thank you for coming, Applejack!” she said with a smile. “This means so much to me!”
It always did. Applejack sighed inwardly.
“No problemo, Fluttershy,” she replied. She reached for her rifle and flashlight from the passenger seat. At Fluttershy’s wide-eyed look, Applejack patted the barrel of the gun. “Now, now, sugarcube. Charlene here is only to scare off any coyotes we might find. You know where this fox was last seen?”
Fluttershy, who had been eyeing Charlene warily, snapped her gaze back onto her friend. “Oh! Yes! Right this way.” She pointed past the rehab center to the dense woods behind it. “He escaped through the rear exit into the deer pen and slipped under the fence.” She stepped back as Applejack began to exit the truck.
“I make no promises, Fluttershy. It’s gettin’ dark and we’re after a fox." Applejack tapped her temple, her brow tensed. "If he’s really smarter on account of Equestrian magic, then it’ll be even harder to find him, hurt or not.”
“You’re the best tracker I know, Applejack,” Fluttershy said earnestly. “I know you can find him!”
Applejack tugged on her hat brim and started for the woods. She tried to wrestle the prideful grin off her face. “Yeah, we’ll see.”
Fluttershy quickly fell into step next to her, her hands clasped behind her back. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked. How have you been?”
It was such a well-meaning question, it almost made Applejack nauseous.
“Been all right," she answered reluctantly. "Workin’. You know how it is.”
Fluttershy nodded as she looked up at the sky. “Mmmm. I know what you mean.”
“And you?” Applejack felt like a fool walking straight into a joke. She just couldn’t help herself. Besides, wasn’t it rude and unfriendly not to chat a little?
“I’ve been well!" Another smile brightened Fluttershy's face. She curled a little as she made, what was apparently, an embarrassing admission: "My pre-vet courses are challenging. Some days I wonder if I'm in over my head. But y'know, I’m learning so, so much! I’m really looking forward to psychology next semester.”
Applejack squinted her green eyes. “Psychology? What you gotta take psychology for?”
Fluttershy's smile turned slanted like she'd been expecting the question. “It’s a prerequisite to animal behavioralism.”
“Oh." Applejack cleared her throat. "Well, I can’t see why you need either of those courses. You’re already a wonder with animals.”
Her heart skipped a beat when Fluttershy briefly touched her upper arm, the skin under her sleeve igniting with warmth and tingles that made her shiver.
“Aww... Gee thanks, Applejack.” Fluttershy flashed another smile, the offending hand delicately brushing a stray lock behind her ear.
Applejack’s heart wrenched and she looked away. Her face burned.
They neared the tree line, where the shadows became dense.
Fluttershy pressed her lips together like she was working up the will to do something. With a little inhale, she asked, “Have you heard much from the others?”
Applejack fought to keep her face neutral. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”
A little sigh escaped her friend. She glanced to see Fluttershy wringing her hands. “I miss everyone.”
She meant she missed her.
Rainbow Dash. Since senior year of high school, Fluttershy’s crush had been evident to their entire group. Painfully evident, in some cases.
A little snarl crept onto Applejack’s face before she wiped it away. Fluttershy, who had been gazing down at her shoes, missed it. Thank heaven for small favors.
Applejack turned on her flashlight and started forward, her boots crunching over branches and dead leaves as the light sliced into the dark. “Stay close, y’hear?”
“Coming!” Fluttershy said as she hurried behind.
The shadows—awful in their absolute hunger—swallowed the two girls whole.
She and Apple Bloom arrived home from the high school. The evening was fast approaching. Applejack looked forward to the chance to rest in the cool air while the setting sun painted her world in her favorite hues.
Not yet. Still work to do.
Her younger sister hurried upstairs to her room. Applejack poked her head in through the screen door.
“Granny Smith,” she called. “Can you please chop up some taters for supper? I was thinking of makin’—” She broke off, her eyes fluttering as she stepped inside. The screen door creaked shut behind her, cutting through the quiet of the living room. “Granny Smith?”
The television was on but muted, showing some tawdry soap opera. They had become Granny’s staple since retiring. She was supposed to be here, watching them.
Heart racing now, Applejack took off her hat and clenched the brim tight. “Granny Smith?” she called again. She went through the doorway to the kitchen. Not there. She checked the office room, not there. She ran up the stairs, two at a time, then checked all the second-floor rooms (“Hey!” Apple Bloom snapped, her pants around her feet and her t-shirt half-way off.) Still nothing.
Applejack groaned. “Not again!” she jammed her hat back on her head and ran downstairs, through the living room, and out the screen door.
“Granny Smith!” she hollered, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Granny, where in tarnation are you?!”
“I’m over here!” came an irritable voice from the chicken enclosure.
Applejack’s heart jumped as she went running to the enclosure across from their home. When she went around the squat gray hen house, she saw Granny Smith inside the fence line, spreading scratch on the ground. The chickens crowded around her, clucking excitedly. The old woman was dressed only in a night slip and barefoot, mud and dirt up to her wrinkly knees, a metal pail gripped tightly in her arm.
“Granny Smith, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Applejack panted. “I thought you’d wandered off again!”
“Pah!” Granny Smith shot her a scathing look. “You want me to sit there all day and just let my brain go to mush. Well, I ain’t havin’ it, missy! Not when there’s work to be done.” Granny mumbled something else under her breath, but Applejack couldn’t hear. The older woman spread more chicken scratch, the hens abandoning the scratch they already had to hurry to this latest offering like it was something new and different.
Applejack took a deep, steadying breath. Then with as much patience as she could muster: “Granny, will you come inside? You already fed the chickens this morning.”
“I did not,” Granny said. Another spread of scratch, all on the same spot.
“Yes you did, Granny.”
“I did not.” Firmer.
“Granny—”
“I said I didn’t, now quit plaguing me!” Granny Smith screeched. She threw the bucket of scratch down on the ground, making the chickens cluck and scurry out of the way. “If I said I didn’t, then I didn’t, dagnabbit!”
Applejack held her hands up, her eyes falling shut. Most days, her grandmother was fairly coherent. She still knew how to take care of herself, with a little help. She still recognized most people, too.
But sometimes she’d slip out for a walk only to get lost on their own farm. Then, of course, there were the outbursts. The worst was when she asked when Applejack’s parents would be getting home.
“Granny, I want to get supper started before we finish up out there in the orchard,” Applejack said carefully. She went and opened the fence gate. “I could really use your help.”
Granny Smith’s eyes lit up. “Supper?”
“Yes’m. I need taters chopped. Can you handle that?”
“Course I can,” Granny pretended to roll up invisible sleeves as she passed through the gate. “I’ll have ’em taters peeled and chopped by the time you and Big Mac are home.”
Applejack followed her grandmother back to the house, wincing as she eyed her dirty feet. “Granny, can I rinse your feet here on the steps?”
Granny looked down at herself. She frowned as if she couldn’t understand how she’d gotten so dirty, but nodded.
Applejack helped her to sit down on the porch steps, then she went inside for a towel from the linen closet. When she returned, she retrieved the water hose from the corner of the house and turned it on. The water sputtered out, then gushed in a gentle stream, leaving glittering puddles in its wake. Silent, she set to work cleaning her Granny's legs and feet. Her touch was gentle but assertive over her elder's pale, varicose-veined skin. Once done, Applejack dried Granny with the towel.
She dropped the wet towel on the steps and helped her grandmother up. “All right. Let’s get inside and I’ll get you those taters.”
“You know, Bright Mac was real good at peelin’ taters,” Granny said as they stepped into the house.
Applejack paused for a moment, her body tensing. Then she relaxed. She’d said he was real good. Past tense. So she still remembered Pa was dead.
“How good was he?” Applejack asked. The doctor had said it was good to encourage accurate memory recollection. It reinforced what was current and what was past.
“He could get a tater peeled like he could an apple. One big stripe!” Granny laughed, sending her wrinkled neck skin wobbling. “Hard enough to do with an apple, imagine with a tough lil tater! Yessir, your Pa was a special ’un. I miss him every day.”
“Yes’m. We all do.” Applejack set Granny down in a chair. “Now just wait here a moment while I get what you need.” She started for the stairs. Apple Bloom was going to have to do her homework in the kitchen today. Any more wandering from her grandmother and she'd have a heart attack.
“Applejack?”
She paused at the first step and looked back. Applejack felt a stab of pain in her heart at the tears in Granny Smith’s eyes. “Sugarcube, losin’ your Pa and Ma was the hardest thing I ever had to endure. But I came to terms with that, see? They lived a good life. Sometimes, part o’ healing is just accepting something is gone and lettin’ go.” She nodded jerkily and looked down at her gnarled hands in her lap. “You just gotta let go. Just gotta let go sometimes. Y’hear? Can’t heal if you don’t. You can’t...” she started to mumble to herself again, lost in the maze of her mind.
Applejack could feel a lump form in her throat. She hurried up the stairs to get Apple Bloom.
In the dark, Applejack let her flashlight roam. It wasn’t her preference to use such bright light when tracking an animal, but without moonlight, she had no chance of seeing the signs of passage she needed to see—paw prints, broken branches, fur, scat. Under these trees, the darkness pressed in on them. Nature was never without its veil.
She could feel Fluttershy brushing her side, her soft breathing somehow loud in Applejack’s ears. She bore this with thin lips and sweat on her brow.
'Stay close?' What had she been thinking? Why was she even doing this again? She felt like such a yo-yo!
To make matters worse, she was afraid this whole thing was a bust. She tried floating the idea of waiting till morning like the rehab center had intended. Fluttershy’s big watery eyes all but drummed out that notion.
It wasn’t that Applejack hadn’t found the trail—she had, pretty quick. The fox’s tracks had been obvious by the way his paws seemed to drunkenly stumble through the brush. But she still wasn’t sure if they could reach him before the hour grew too late and they pierced too deep into the woods. He had a big lead on them.
They were also far from the city and suburbs. Out here, coyotes and mountain lions roamed. With just the two of them, their powers only did so much. She didn't want to harm critters following their natural instincts, and she certainly didn't want to gamble Fluttershy's safety.
Just when Applejack had worked up the will to suggest turning back again, her flashlight fell over something. She paused in her steps, her eyes widening.
“What is it?” Fluttershy asked, her hands clasped at her chest.
“Blood,” Applejack said, her brow tightening. She pointed. On some granite stones, a splash of dark blood glistened in the light.
Fluttershy gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Oh no! His stitches must be coming undone!”
“What happened to this critter anyway?” Applejack asked as she started forward again, slower this time. If the animal was bleeding, it probably hadn’t gone far. It’d look for a place to hide and rest.
“He was hit by a car,” Fluttershy said. Her voice sounded choked and Applejack couldn’t help but look back at her. The other girl had tears trickling down her face. “He lost an eye and his tail. His right paw was broken. His rear left leg was cut.”
Applejack nodded grimly. It coincided with the trail markings. A bad paw, poor vision, and not even a tail to balance with.
Horseapples. Now she wasn't sure if she could turn back even if common sense hollered at her too.
“He’ll be close,” she said. “Just move slow and keep an ear out. Assuming he hasn't found a place to lay low yet, we’ll hear em a’fore we see ’em.”
A pert little nod. Fluttershy’s brave face was the kind of thing that made Applejack feel like she was filled with hot cider.
She swallowed hard and kept moving.
The trail became more speckled with blood. The fox, in its pain and confusion—no doubt drunk off whatever meds they gave him too—had veered into the deeper brush, where thorn bushes snatched at their clothing. Any other city girl would have quit right there.
Fluttershy pushed on through. She even smiled as she gently brushed a spider off of Applejack’s shoulder, tying AJ’s insides into knots.
The blood trail eventually came to a stop outside of what looked like a small burrow at the foot of an oak tree. Applejack crouched and pointed. She started to speak, but Fluttershy put a hand to her mouth. AJ’s eyes went wide, her lips trembling beneath the other girl’s soft palm.
Fluttershy pressed a finger to her lips, then motioned for Applejack to stay where she was. Almost on all fours, she moved closer to the burrow.
“Come here, little friend,” she breathed. Her voice was barely audible. “You’re hurting. Would you please let us help you?”
Applejack watched, fascinated, as Fluttershy slid into a sideways sitting position—almost like she was lounging on a bed and not on a dirty forest floor where insects and spiky oak leaves covered everything. She extended one hand and gently began to hum.
It was a familiar approach. If Fluttershy were dealing with an ordinary animal, her tactics would have looked completely different. But given their suspicions that this animal may be magically touched, as Angel Bunny was, then it opened up strategies that would have worked nowhere else. That still said nothing of Fluttershy’s naturally gentle aura and empathy with animals. Her skill in identifying an animal’s needs and concerns were… almost supernatural. None of their friends seemed able to determine if this was due in part to her inherited Equestrian powers or not. Applejack doubted it.
She was always special, even without the magic.
Minutes went by. Fluttershy continued to hum quietly, only occasionally interjecting her song to sprinkle in some gentle encouragement.
Applejack didn’t dare interrupt, even as her legs cramped beneath her.
And then, the fox emerged.
Its ears appeared first, perked and trembling. Then its wide, wet, dark eye and glistening nose followed. A patch bandage covered the other eye. Its nostrils flared, taking in their scent.
“Hello,” Fluttershy said. Applejack could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s so nice to see you. Do you think you could come a little closer?”
The fox ducked back into the burrow.
“Oh, it’s okay!” Fluttershy cooed. “This is Applejack. She’s my friend. She won’t hurt you.”
The fox came back into view again. Its whiskers quivered as it licked its chops.
“You must be so hungry and thirsty. Let me take you back to where it’s warm and safe. Won’t you come with me?” Fluttershy asked.
The fox limped forward one step. Two. As its body slowly, laboriously came into full view, Applejack could see now its bandaged tail stub. The bandage that had no doubt been on its left thigh was now gone, lost probably in its frantic search for haven. The fur was matted and dark beneath the wound.
“That’s it,” Fluttershy breathed as the fox neared her. Each step became smaller. The critter was still afraid.
When it came close to Fluttershy’s hand, she didn’t move. The fox sniffed her fingers. It was when it took another step toward her that she dared to give it one small stroke across its head, her movements slow. The fox’s eyes fell shut under her touch, and it gingerly sank down.
“Yes,” Fluttershy said, running her hand over its back in a feather-light touch. “That’s it.” She looked back at Applejack, a little smile on her face, and nodded.
Applejack scooted closer, her eyes wide as she saw how hurt the critter was up close. No wonder Fluttershy had been so determined to find him before daylight. If a coyote had found the blood trail first…
“Poor fella.”
Fluttershy gathered the creature up into her arms. It didn’t resist, though it did pant anxiously, its one eye still trained on Applejack like she was going to turn her rifle on it. She put the gun behind her guiltily.
“Let’s head back,” Fluttershy murmured, still stroking the fox on the head.
The return trek was spent mostly in silence. Night had come, and the moon was over the horizon, casting its silvered light in patches on the forest floor.
As they neared the edge of the woods, the lights of the rehab center visible through the treeline, Fluttershy spoke. “Applejack, I just want to say how grateful I am to you. So few people are willing to go into the thick of the woods at night, looking for a wild animal!” She nuzzled the fox with her nose. "You saved this little guy's life!"
“Aw shucks, Fluttershy.” Applejack could feel her skin getting hot under the collar. She shouldered Charlene and tugged her hat brim low, trying to hide the burn in her cheeks. “You’re the one who got the critter to come out. I hardly did a thing.”
Fluttershy slowed to a stop and gazed at Applejack with an earnest expression on her face. Her blue eyes seemed eerily lit by the moonlight. “Please don’t do that.”
Applejack could feel her skin glow hotter as she paused to regard her friend. “Do what?”
“Minimize what you do. AJ, no one else understands my love of animals and nature the way that you do. And you’re always thinking of others, even when it inconveniences you! You are truly wonderful.” A massive smile spread across Fluttershy's soft pink lips. “I could not put into words how dear you are to me.”
Applejack swallowed against a tightening throat, her shoulders curving.
Those eyes… sky blue and hiding a wild power that could arrest any soul from a simple look if she'd only will it... did Fluttershy even realize she had such beautifully intense eyes?
Applejack dreamed about them. Dreamed about those eyes and the depth of expression they held, shining like incandescent jewels in life’s gloom. Fluttershy felt so acutely for every living thing.
Applejack wished those eyes would show her the kind of things her heart felt when looking at her longtime friend.
“It’s the same for me, Fluttershy,” she said slowly. Her voice had dropped to a husky pitch. “You bring out the best in everyone around you. Heck, you make me want to be better. I ain’t never seen someone like you before. The way you care for critters and other people…” I could see us doing that. Together. Applejack licked her lips and tried again, “What I mean to say is that I—”
Could she do it? Could she finally say it?
Fluttershy, I love you.
Fluttershy tilted her head to the side. “Applejack?”
Applejack gazed back at her friend, feeling her insides sink into a desolate cold.
She knew what the answer would be. It was clear that Fluttershy didn't want her. She was too enamored with a rainbow-haired braggart.
Rainbow Dash was out of the closet. Rainbow Dash was free to live however she saw fit. She even had the most wonderful girl mooning after her, but she was too damn squeamish to face Shy's feelings.
It was enough to make Applejack want to scream.
“What I meant to say is that I’m happy you’re my friend,” Applejack finished with a strained smile. She could feel her spirit rising up out of her, repelled by her own failure.
It’s not a lie. I am happy she’s my friend.
You just didn’t give her the whole truth, either, her inner critic snorted.
Fluttershy’s smile widened. “I’m happy we’re friends too, Applejack. I can always depend on you.”
Applejack flinched.
Fluttershy scratched the fox behind an ear. “I need to take this little guy inside so they can treat him.”
“Do you need a ride?” Applejack’s voice sounded faint. Her mouth felt dry.
Fluttershy took no notice, too concerned with her furry charge. “No, thank you! One of the volunteers was going to give me a ride back.”
“All righty, then.” Applejack tipped her hat and turned away. Every step took effort. “You take care now.”
“Bye, Applejack!” Fluttershy called after her. “Thanks again!”
Applejack lifted a single hand in acknowledgment, but she did not turn around. Could not bring herself to.
If she did, she’d ruin everything.
She took the long way home. The radio was silent. She had the windows rolled down, even though she was cold. Her arms were covered in gooseflesh, but she ignored it. Didn’t even shiver. She just stared through the windshield, watching her truck chew up asphalt.
She loved country roads. Loved how quiet they were. Even in the loathsome night, she could appreciate the sea of silver and shadows, the moon alighting on the tin roofs of pole sheds and the shifting green cornfields. There was an occasional deer at the edge of the road, their eyes shining bright in the wake of her headlights. These usually turned back the way they came.
One family of deer, however, actually dared to cross the road ahead of her, forcing her to slow to a stop. She watched them run and bound out of sight, into the thicket where the night hid them. But one deer stayed. A small doe halted in the middle of the road, its body shivering, and its ears perked as it listened to Applejack’s truck engine rumble.
Applejack stared at the creature, her hands tightening on the steering wheel. She needed the truck to get moving again. She needed to feel the road passing beneath her. She needed to see the world passing her by.
“Go on,” she muttered. Her voice was a fragile breath.
When the deer didn’t move, her mouth set into a hard line.
“Go on! Git!” she said, louder.
The deer started, its hooves skittering on the asphalt as it moved away from the truck, but it didn’t get out of the way. Its ear swiveled in the direction its family went, but it remained.
Grinding her teeth, Applejack grabbed her rifle and opened the truck door.
And still, the deer remained.
“What’s the matter with you?” she snapped, slamming her truck door shut. The animal flinched. “Why won’t you go? Why won’t you leave me alone?”
The deer’s head lowered and it went very still, only its wet nose quivering.
Applejack stopped just near her headlights. “You another magic-touched critter? Huh? What, you need help or somethin’?” She pumped Charlene’s lever and gripped it in both her hands, the barrel aimed low at the ground. “Well, I can’t help you. I can’t hardly help myself! So why don’t you just git?”
The deer took a slow step back.
“Git, I said! The one who can help you ain’t with me! She ain’t ever gonna be with me! I’m tired of you, dragging me out, getting my hopes up every damn time. And for what?” Applejack’s voice started to rise, louder and louder until her throat went hoarse with yelling. “Damned fool, why don’t you understand? Why can’t you just stay away? She ain’t ever gonna take an ugly thing like you! She ain’t ever gonna want some simple country hick! So why don’t you just—” She raised the gun in the air. “QUIT!”
She pulled the trigger.
The single shot echoed over the hills and into the trees.
The deer finally fled into the thicket.
Applejack stared with slack features at where the animal had vanished, Charlene sinking as her arms went limp. Her vision blurred. She fell to her knees and wept.
Gas. She needed gas.
It was late, and she’d driven till her tank was hitting the bottom.
Her eyes felt swollen. Applejack rarely let herself cry. She hated leaving herself bare to the emotions that gutted her like an apple core machine. It left her feeling weak and vulnerable. When everyone was looking to you to keep the world turning, you couldn’t feel weak and vulnerable. She needed a fix. Fast.
The gas station off of the interstate was remote and quiet. Exactly what she wanted. A little electronic chime sounded as she pushed through the door into the air-conditioned store. A young man with floppy yellow hair grunted a hello from behind the counter.
She went to him, knowing she wanted gas, but also knowing she wanted… something else.
Applejack eyed the liquor bottles on the wall, her gaze sliding over such colorful names as Paranoid Gin, Numb Joker, and Clouded Grog. Then she thought of Big Mac and his increasingly frequent choice of booze as his cologne.
She sighed. They didn’t need two drunk fools.
“You getting gas, or…?” The clerk raised an eyebrow.
She shuffled her feet and winced. “Yeah! Yeah. I just also wanted…” Her eyes fell onto the neat rows of cigarettes behind the man.
Pa had smoked, right?
“Gimme a pack of the Elk 100s, and put forty on pump eight.”
A short time later, Applejack’s truck was gassed up and she was on the sidewalk. She stared at the blue and gold cigarette pack in her hand, wondering what in the world she was doing. She knew this wouldn’t solve her problems. Heck, it wouldn’t even dull the pain.
Her mouth pursed as she opened the pack, the wrapper crinkling, and pulled out one slim white cigarette. She pinched this in the middle of her mouth, her eyes crossing as she stared down at the tip. Shoving the pack into a back pocket, she procured the lighter she’d purchased and turned the flame on. Fire met tip.
After a few deep, experimental puffs, Applejack started to cough, her already sore throat straining.
Idiot! Take smaller puffs and let it out fast, this ain’t weed!
After her initial coughing fit subsided, Applejack took a smaller drag and exhaled it naturally. She felt dizzy, and in some ways… sullied. As if some bastion of innocence had been torn down in her inexorable march of stupidity.
Twilight Sparkle had said that every person, at one point or another in their life, could be given to inexplicably self-destructive behavior. Something about how it satisfied some dark mirror of themselves, or some such nonsense some famous intellectual had once said.
Applejack exhaled, and watched, feeling a strange pleasure at seeing this slow-killing smoke leave her. She looked at the cigarette held between her right hand’s index finger and thumb.
She had to set her feelings aside. For her own good. For Fluttershy's.
She held up her left hand, a wordless idea slithering into her head. In her tobacco-flavored dizziness, she felt compelled to do something. Something foolish.
People depended on her. She couldn't go ruining that. She couldn't forget what Fluttershy needed from her, either. Dependable, Flutters had called her. She had to stay dependable.
Applejack exhaled shakily, her tongue darting out to lick dry lips.
This would help her remember.
She pressed the orange tip of the cigarette to her left wrist and didn’t flinch as she felt the searing pain bite deep into her flesh. For a strange second, it almost felt like pressing a frozen ice pack to the skin, without any sort of towel to buffer the sub-zero temperature. This was swiftly replaced by sharp stinging, unlike anything she’d felt before. She closed her eyes, sighing with grim satisfaction as the cigarette sizzled and died, the sensation morphing to a powerful throb that pulsed throughout her wrist. She pulled the cigarette away, seeing the angry red circle on her skin, stained with ash.
Be her fixed point, AJ. It’s all ya got to give her. It’s all ya got to give anybody.
She stared at the new wound on her wrist for a long time.
It was well after midnight by the time she got back. Applejack didn’t get out of the truck for a while, her eyes staring at her two-story country home like it was a trap. The porch and kitchen lights were on. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.
When her plan to wait out whoever was awake failed under the weight of her exhaustion, Applejack left her truck and started for the house.
She didn’t even reach the porch steps when she heard—
“She called you again, didn’t she?”
Apple Bloom.
Applejack turned to see her sister coming from the orchard trail, dressed in PJs, sneakers, and a heavy jacket. Her younger sister sometimes went on night walks like these, usually after an episode with her longtime rival, Diamond Tiara.
Apple Bloom cocked her head to the side. “Another missing critter?”
Applejack scowled, annoyed that the situation was so easily guessed. “Yeah,” she mumbled. She resumed her trek for the house.
Apple Bloom hurried to her side. “Did you finally tell her?”
“What do you think?”
“Nope.”
“Then why are you askin’ me?” Applejack shot her sister a look. “And you should be in bed. It’s a school night.”
Apple Bloom clicked her tongue. “Same for you!”
“Yeah, well I’m older and I pay the bills.”
“I’d take that more seriously if you’d actually be honest with yourself for once.”
Applejack stopped at the top of the porch steps to glare at her sister. “I reckon you wanna get bopped.”
Apple Bloom crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot. “I may be young, Applejack, but I done seen enough soap operas to know when folk is trying to play the martyr. I’m trying to tell you, ain’t nobody here want you to!”
“Apple Bloom, be like the old lady who fell out of the wagon, and shut up.”
“But sis—!”
The screen door banged open. Applejack turned to see Big Mac leaning on the doorway, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He lurched forward, his eyes lidded, and gestured at her.
“Apple Bloom, she ain’t jes playin’ the martyr. She scared.” He hiccuped and walked to the set of rocking chairs on the patio. He collapsed into the nearest one, sending it violently rocking, the whiskey sloshing in the bottle.
Applejack stomped over to him and ripped the whiskey bottle from his hands. “Mac, if you think I’m gonna go easy on you in the morn just cuz you’re hungover, you got another think comin’!” She slammed it on the little side table.
He looked up at her and smiled.
Her jaw tightened. “And I ain’t scared!”
He raised his eyebrows at her and turned over a hand.
Applejack felt her cheeks burn. “No, I ain’t told her!”
“But why?” Apple Bloom asked. “Why ain’t you told Fluttershy how you feel, Applejack?”
“Because I don’t want to hear her say ‘no!’” Applejack yelled. She ripped the hat off her head and threw it down on the wooden floor, wisps of her blonde hair teasing the sides of her flaming cheeks. “There! You happy?! I’m a damn coward who loves being miserable! I don’t let go cuz I don’t want to! Y’hear? Now quit plaguing me! Quit—” A dry sob punched up her throat. She pressed a shaky hand to her mouth as if she could stop the tirade, could stop the tears from falling.
“What’s all that hollerin’ out there?” Granny Smith. Her slippered feet could be heard shuffling closer to the screen door. “Something going on? Is it the coons again?”
Applejack threw her hands up into the air. “Why is everybody awake? Don’t you people sleep? What is wrong with this family?” The weariness finally hit her. She couldn’t stand up anymore. She collapsed into the other rocking chair next to Big Mac.
“Nothing’s wrong with us,” Apple Bloom said quietly. She went to pick up Applejack’s hat and handed it to her. “We just got a habit of holdin’ on.”
“Eyup,” Big Mac sighed.
Apple Bloom sat down on the wooden bench across from her siblings and gazed down at her sneakers.
Granny Smith opened the screen door and peered around at them. “Ain’t none o’ you youngsters heard me? I asked what’s the matter!”
Apple Bloom held out a hand. “Come on, Granny. Sit with us. I think we need a song.”
“We do not need a song,” Applejack grumbled, crossing her arms.
Granny Smith’s eyes brightened. She shuffled out from behind the door and carefully sat down next to Apple Bloom. “What we singin’?”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Under The Willow Tree.”
Applejack groaned. “Don’t.”
Her sister began to sing, her voice a gentle croon:
“My heart is broken, I am sorry,
Over the one that I love.
I know that I shall never see her
Unless we meet in heaven above.”
Granny Smith, who had already started swaying, joined in the next verse, her fragile voice an eerily beautiful trill. Applejack closed her eyes as she felt a lump form in her throat.
“Bury me beneath the willow,
Beneath the weeping willow tree,
And when she knows that I am sleeping
Perhaps she'll sometimes think of me.”
“Please stop,” Applejack whispered, the words cracking as she felt the tears build behind her eyelids.
Big Mac joined partway through, his deep voice a rumbling current.
“Once she told me that she loved me;
How could I think her untrue
Until an angel whispered softly,
'Oh, she does not care for you'?”
Applejack let out one bark of a laugh, surprising herself. It was mostly reflex, some basic animal response to the overwhelming torrent of emotions that was eating her up inside. Her feelings were crushing her, pulling her down low into the deepest reaches of her sorrow. It was stupidity. It was illogical madness.
It was human.
She so wished she could be a robot instead. She yearned to be as relentless and methodical as the automated harvesters she’d learned so much about in school. People needed her to remain steadfast and hardworking. Her employees, her family… her friends. If she could only turn off her desires indefinitely, then she could truly become the fixed point she so wished to be.
But at this late hour, when the world was sleeping and the night held its secrets, she finally stopped fighting. If only for a moment.
Applejack felt her throat tighten as tears leaked from her eyes. She gazed past her sister and Granny to the night that lay beyond them, where the dark sky loomed glittering with burning stars.
Barely raising her voice, she murmured along:
“Place on my grave a snow-white lily,
And on my tomb a turtle dove,
So if she sometimes comes to see me,
She will know I died for love.”
Author's Note:
Bury Me Beneath the Willow is a public domain song with origins from the 19th century. This is one iteration of it.
Fic and chapter titles directly taken from Faiz Ahmed Faiz's beautiful poem, Be Near Me. Please read it.
While this was one of my best "critically received" fanfictions I've ever written, there was some natural pushback and backhanded comments over my attempts at adding a deeper context to this. I had one person comment that "they've seen this before, and it was done better then". What I didn't bother telling them was that I reserve my bigger and more innovative ideas for my original work. That didn't mean I still didn't work really hard at delivering a solid and meaningful story. It never astounds me the way people will tear down someone who is earnestly trying to produce a good work. I had a concept, and I'll admit that while it was hardly groundbreaking, in my opinion I fucking nailed it. So the moral of the story is, haters gonna hate. This story was healing for me, and I hope you enjoyed it!
