> An Apple that Fell Far From the Tree > by Comet Tail > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: An Apple That Fell Far From the Tree > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- An Apple that fell Far From the Tree Mal trotted towards the glass doorway of the Royal Canterlot Biological Research Center (R.C.B.R.C), reflecting on how his last day had played out. He wasn't proud of his actions in the past few hours; come to think of it he hadn't been proud of anything he had done in the past ten years. Mal had caught a glimpse of his reflection as the shining glass door easily opened with a hiss and hum of the hydraulic apparatus that opened and closed the exit. The stallion let out a long, sad breath at the sight of himself and the familiar sound. He looked so torn apart, his head felt like it was about to split open, his short brown mane was messy and tangled, his chestnut fur sweaty and matted, and most of all his sad, lifeless hazel eyes stared back emptily. This would most likely be the last time he would ever hear that sound. That sweet rankling that had filled up every morning and night of the past six years. Mal had just been fired. (A short while earlier) "Malus-Rosacae Apple," a muffled nasally voice boomed from the intercom. "Please report to the administrative office, Malus-Rosacae Apple please report to the administrative office." Mal Snorted at the use of his full name. He hated when anypony used his full name, let alone those damn secretaries. Mal set the chemicals he was handling back down into their vessels and caps them off. Sliding his hooves out of the thick layer of protective rubber, Mal wondered why he is being summoned so formally. Usually when anypony in admin needed him, they would just send in an intern and ask him to come up, but over the intercom? Mal could always feel when something bad was going to happen; he got that feeling ten years ago before the accident, and he had it at that moment. Mal crossed the threshold of the sterile white office on the top floor of the R.C.B.R.C. Every other time he had been in this office it always seemed like just another room in the building, but now it felt menacing. He entered the office and slowly made his way toward the desk set up in the back of the room. The desk was unusually bare, on most days it held all sorts of knick knacks and family photos. The only thing upon the desk now is a shiny brass nameplate that read ‘Associate Director Si Fi’. Mal knew exactly what was about to happen. Si Fi was an older pony; Mal wasn’t sure of his exact age because nopony had ever asked for fear of offending the boss. Si had a sterling coat with shining cobalt eyes and a combed back slightly thinning grey mane. “Ahh shi-” he began under his breath before Si turned around in his chair with a stoic and unyielding expression on his face. “Well Malus,” Si interrupted before Mal could finish his curse. “I think you should take a seat,” Si said sternly with his hooves crossed in front of him. Just by his tone Mal can tell that the sterling colored stallion meant business. “Yessir Mr. Fi,” Mal said slowly in his thick southern drawl as he took a seat in a small cushy looking chair. The chair was the most uncomfortable thing he had ever sat down on. “Do you have any idea as to why you have been called up here today, Mal?” Si said monotonously, staring at him with cold cobalt eyes. “No sir, Ah don’t,” Mal lied, staring back at him. Suddenly his seat became twice as uncomfortable as it had been a second ago. “Really Mal, you have no clue why you are sitting in my office right now?” Si asked, obviously not buying the lie. Mal spoke innocently, “No Mr. Fi, Ah truly have no inkling as t’ why Ah’m here. One minute Ah was working in mah lab, the next Ah get called up here to see ya.” Mal started to sweat. Si sighed and looked at Mal with Knowing eyes. “If that is how you wanna play it, Mal...” Si reached under his desk and opens up a filing cabinet and pulled out four files stuffed full of pink paper and set them on the table. Each file had 'Malus-Rosacae Apple' written on the upper left corner and 'employee conduct violations' written in on the right. “Buckin’ hay.” Mal cursed under his breath. He knew that it would be bad, but this bad? Every employee in the building must have filed an infraction against him in the past few days for Si to have all of that. “Mal, I know you have been coming to work drunk more often than not,” Si said authoritatively. “I am honestly surprised you aren’t plastered right now.” Mal just sat there not knowing what to say. Si began to speak again. “You really must have pissed off some ponies pretty bad, Apple Boy. Once one pony came in, the floodgates opened on your alcoholic work habits. Given how long you have been a researcher with us, if this was just a one time thing I’d say go to a meeting and come back to work, but there are instances from 35 different employees over the course of the entire time you have been working here!” Si stopped, rage beginning to show in his voice. Si took a deep breath and started on him again, Mal just sitting there. “Look, Mal, you are the best researcher we have ever had here, and I’m truly sorry to say this but we have to fire you. I’m going to have to ask you to turn in your I.D. badge and all the research documents you hold in your possession with regards to our facility and its operations.” Si paused to let that sink in. After a few moments Mal began to shake, not comprehending what he was hearing. “Wha…” Mal quavered just barely audible. “On top of firing you, I have been given no choice but to revoke all of your research licenses, all laboratory permits, all chemical handling licenses and annul all of your accredited research from the past six years. The R.C.B.R.C. will take credit for all of your findings including any and all research still under way.” Si kept that steely glare on his face focused at Mal. “Do you understand everything I have just told you?” Mal, shocked and emotionally destroyed simply stared at his former boss. Suddenly, he shot out of his seat and began to yell, “What the buck! Ah won’t be able to get a job in this field ever again! Ya have ruined my career! Ah’m gonna…” “Well actually you ruined your own career with your... AHHHHHH!” Mal bashed his hooves against Si’s desk cracking it in two solid pieces. Si darted out of his seat and bolted to the door faster than an elder pony should have been able to. “Security! Help!” he shouted, running down the hallway. Before Mal could make his way over to him, he felt a strange sting in his chest and it burned slightly. He saw a royal guard unicorn and then everything seemed to get foggy. Mal heard a ‘POP!’ then fell to the ground, knocked out cold. Mal awoke in the reception area surrounded by royal guards. “Look who finally woke up, boys; it’s Saddle Rager.” The guards all laughed at what the sky blue Pegasus had just said. “How the hay did you manage to break that desk? It must’ve been 7 Inches thick!” a golden earth Pony croaked out through his laughter. “Ugh… Mah… Head…” Mal grunted as he picked up one of his heavy hooves to rub his throbbing skull. "Well, I sure as hay hope you didn't use your head. That would suck!" the golden earth pony said, coming down from his boisterous display. "Shut up Auggie, I think this guy has had a bad enough day without you making it worse." With that, Auggie Mine shut up and snapped to attention. "That throbbing would be a side effect of the tranquilizer spell old Stargazer here had to zap you with,” the Pegasus said, pointing towards a lilac unicorn. “It should subside in about an hour or two,” the unicorn said, faking a smile and glaring at Mal. “My name is Sky Breaker,” the Blue Pegasus stated proudly. “I took the liberty of gathering the personal stuff from your old office; there wasn't much, but what I could find is in this box.” Sky Breaker pointed a hoof over towards a box that held Mal’s diploma and his father’s old Stetson. “Thank ya kindly,” Mal grumbled. “Look, I’m sorry to do this, but I was told by your old boss that once you woke up you had to ahh... leave.. immediately. Do you have somewhere you can go? I don’t think it’d be the best thing for you to be alone right now.” Sky Breaker asked with genuine concern in his eyes. “Uhh Yeah. Ah do. If Ah may ask, why am Ah not locked up in a dungeon right now?” Mal groaned as a wave of pain rocked his head. “Well, surprisingly enough your ex-boss was pretty understanding, and decided not to press charges.” Sky Breaker replied. "For any of it, believe me if he had you would be in a cell for a long time." “Well, Ah thank ya once more, but Ah think Ah’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mal said bitterly as he stood up and grabbed his small box of treasures. On the steps of the R.C.B.R.C., Mal’s head felt like a hoofball that had just been kicked about a thousand times. “Buck this. Buck Si. Buck this headache. Buck my life. I’m going to get Shitfaced.” Mal said stomping his hoof on the concrete after every declaration as he began to slowly walk away, yet again, from everything he loved and everything he had built up and destroyed. o.O.0.O.o > Sweet Apple Acres' AppleJack Daniels > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- (\o.O.o.O.o.O.o/) The only clear memory Mal had from the past three months was getting fired. He woke up with a hangover that felt like he’d been bucked in the head a few dozen times by a Clydesdale. “Ughhhhhhhhh...” he groaned, searching blindly for the bottle of whiskey he fell asleep drinking. It wasn't very bright outside; the sun must be setting. Mal didn't open his eyes; he knew even that small amount of light flickering through his closed blinds would cause him unimaginable pain. “Where the buck is that Celestia damned whiskey,” he said sleepily, still hoofing around for the bottle. Suddenly his hoof grazed glass. “Yes!” he shouted in his mind as a mile wide smile appeared upon his face. “Nothin’ like a little hair o’ the dawg that bit ya,” Mal grumbled. That’s what his uncle Red used to say. Mal’s smile disappeared at the thought of his uncle Red. He sat up, tears welling in his closed eyes as he pulled the bottle to his lips and lifted, ready to drown out the sadness. Nothing. He opened his eyes to see an empty bottle of five bit whiskey in his mouth. “Motherbucking stupid… piece o’ shit!” Mal shouted while throwing the bottle against the wall. The loud crash of glass breaking filled Mal up with a hurricane of emotions. He sat there on the floor of his empty rental, all of his stuff pawned off to pay for his drinking. Everything he owned except his pa’s hat, a single blanket, a pillow, and a bag of the genetically perfect apple seeds he managed to hide from the R.C.B.R.C. Mal's thoughts flooded with the memories of his uncle Red Apple, his pa Crab Apple, his favorite cousin Macintosh, and Mac’s two little sisters, AppleJack and AppleBloom. With a ragged, breath Mal started to sob. He sat there for a few hours, hating himself, hating what he did all those years ago, hating how he couldn't do anything to change it. After wallowing in sadness for a good long while, Mal couldn't sit idly any longer. Wiping the tears from his face, Mal got up. “I need a damn drink,” he huffed angrily. Mal grabbed his measly bit bag, trying to think of any Canterlot bar or club he hadn't been kicked out of. He trotted out of his rental, and sighed as he realized the only place he could go was The Rusty Horseshoe down in the Canterlot slums. “Well, they got booze, Ah guess Ah can’t complain,” he mumbled. Mal did not care anymore. He just needed the whiskey; he needed to forget about his life, his family, and everything else he had managed to ruin. *** Mal cantered on through Canterlot, passing all of the fancy shops and restaurants. He noticed that the farther away from the castle he got, the crummier everything around him became. After about an hour of walking through the capitol, Mal came into the Canterlot Slums. The Slums were where the lowest of the low, the ex-cons, the criminals, and every piece of scum that Canterlot had to offer lived, gathered, and thrived. He noticed a huge rusty horseshoe on top of a rundown dingy looking building. “Ah’sppose this is The Rusty Horseshoe,” Mal said with a hint of disgust in his voice. He let out a long dissatisfied grunt and forced himself onward. Mal couldn't believe he was really stooping so low because he needed a drink. He needed a drink, he didn't want one, he didn't think he could use one, he needed one. Hay, he needed as many drinks as he could handle before passing out, which was usually about two bottles too many. He didn't think it was possible; the inside of the bar actually managed to look worse than the outside and it smelled of putrifaction. The carpet looked like a foal ate some crayons and had an accident all over the place. The walls probably had a similar story behind them, maybe even a few bodies judging by the smell. Mal slowly approached the empty bar. The bartender was a grey unicorn with a dirty blonde mane and light blue eyes. He was so obsessed with the hoofball game on the tiny magic screen he was projecting up above the bit register, that he didn't even notice Mal’s entrance. Mal sat down at the end of the bar on the only stool that looked sturdy enough for a stallion of his size. “Hey barkeep, lemme get four shots of the strongest whiskey ya got,” Mal said, impatiently tapping one of his back hooves against the hoof rail. He had spent an hour walking here from his rental in upper Canterlot, and was chomping at the bit to get smashed. “You sure bout that, bub?” the bartender said in a heavy Manehattan accent, never looking away from the magic screen. “Eeeeyup!” Mal said a little more aggressively than he intended. Slowly turning around, the bar pony looked at Mal and his eyes widened. “Sorry guy, I’m used to ponies a little smalla' than yous are commin' in. We don’t get ponies of your … ah… particular stature.” He laughed uncomfortably. Mal glared at the bar pony silently. “Here yas go,” he said, hovering four glasses full of a honey colored whiskey over to Mal. As soon as the shots hit the bar top the tender was back to his hoofball. "Thank ya kindly," Mal said with a hint of relief in his voice. Mal had been looking forward to this since he woke up this morning. He would revel in that sweet burn of his guilt and sadness dying for a short while. He had the first shot down before he even thought about it. Picking up the second, he stops. This whiskey tastes familiar, he thought. It kicks like a Minotaur, burns like dragon fire, and has the subtle aftertaste of freshly picked apples. Mal knew what this whiskey was, he knew where it came from, and he knew exactly who made it. The realization struck him like a knockout punch from Whinny Pacquiao. This was AppleJack Daniels; this was his family’s signature whiskey. “Ah’m sorry but Ah gotta go!” Mal said abruptly, holding back tears. He threw down some bits on the countertop, picked up his hat, and bolted out of the bar galloping off into the night. Mal didn't know where he was going. He just knew he had to run. Run from his thoughts and feelings. He just had to run. (\o.O.o/) Mal sat before his front door, out of breath and emotionally distraught. All three of his belongings sat on his old porch. He thought things couldn't get worse, but somehow they always did. He read the pink notice taped to his door for what must have been the hundredth time. Dear Mr. Apple, on behalf of the Upper Canterlot Housing Administration, we regret to inform you that you are being evicted from your current residence; 221 Starlight Ave, for failure to pay rent on multiple occasions. You have the next 48 hours to vacate the premises with all of your belongings. Thank you, and best luck. -Management- "Ah guess there's only one thing Ah can do now..." Mal said despondently. "Ah s'ppose that Celestia was givin' me a sign at the bar tonight." Mal didn't want to go back.well, he did, but he was terrified of how his family would react to his return. What else am I going to do? he thought to himself. With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, Mal picked up his bag of apple seeds, popped them inside his hat for safe keeping, and wrapped his blanket around himself. He looked up to the moon and whispered, "Luna and Celestia, keep me safe on this journey and please give me the strength to face my family." He then trotted off into the night, headed for Ponyville and hopefully redemption. > Ten Years Ago Today: Part 1, Morning > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ten Years Ago Today Big Macintosh woke up a couple hours earlier than he normally would have. He always did today. It’s about three in the morning, the only motion is the slow rise and fall of Mac's chest. He's just lying there in his bed that’s a bit too small, staring at the ceiling. After what seemed like an eternity of dark silence, the farm's resident rooster crowed. After ten years, the entire course of this day had almost become scripted. Mac would wake up at 3am, stare at the dark ceiling for two hours, then the rooster would crow signaling the preparations for that day's arduous hike to the family cemetery. The Apple family cemetery was at least ten miles into the vast farmland. The journey there usually took around 6 hours, there was no rush. Celestia's sun started its majestic ascent, the first tendrils of light slowly slithering over the land and through Big Mac's window. Mac gave a hefty sigh, pulling his blanket off, and slipped his rear hooves out of bed and onto the cool oak floor of his room. I guess it's about time to get everything ready. AJ and I have a long day ahead of us, Mac thought as his eyes adjusted to the light. Mac set his forehooves upon the floor and walked over to the only other piece of furniture in his room. It was a redwood dresser his pa had made for him on his eighteenth birthday. Mac's plow collar leaned against the side of the dresser, another hoof crafted item his pa had left behind. A picture frame sat on top of the dresser. Mac picked up the well oiled walnut frame, and gazed at the picture inside. The largest of the farm's barns was the photo’s backdrop, it had a big banner hanging over the front that read Happy 18Th Birthday Macintosh! A huge red stallion, practically Big Mac's twin, stood with an arm around the shoulders of an orange mare who was cradling a two year old yellow-coated, red-maned foal. Next to them a slightly younger, but still old Granny smith sitting in a rocking chair with a beaming eight year old Applejack in her lap wearing their pa's stetson. Bic Mac sat to the right of Granny smith with a grin. Half of his left side was missing where the photo had been ripped. Mac closes his eyes, and shakily takes a few deep breaths. Come on, let it all out now. Cryin’ ain't gonna do a lick of help today. Macintosh starts to cry, stifling his sobs into his hoof. He never cried except for today. Right now was the only time in Mac's life when he let himself cry. After all, the anniversary of your parents' death was a better time than any other to cry like a little filly. "I miss ya'll so much. Ma, Pa, I..." Mac chokes through sobs. "I love ya’ll so much." Mac wipes the tears away from his eyes and takes a deep breath, settling himself. He looks at the clock on his wall, it read 5:23. Applejack should be up soon. I'd better hurry up and get everything ready, he thought, walking out of his room. Mac headed for the bathroom, as he passed Applejack's master bedroom, he heard the trickle of her bathroom faucet and the faint sobs coming from within. "Will it ever get any easier?" Mac whispered to himself. He enters the bathroom and relieves himself, then washes his hooves and clears the tear stains from his eyes. Big Mac made his way towards the stairs, but stopped on the way by Apple Bloom's door. He put his ear to the hard wood and heard the crusader's snoring from within. She was too young to make the hike, it was too far and too dangerous for the little filly. Maybe she'll be ready next year. She needs to go. She might not remember them, but they were still her parents, Mac thought, trotting down stairs to prep his and AJ's travel packs. Mac stepped into the kitchen, the orange hues of light now illuminated most of the cupboard and the chill chest. He walked over to the storage closet and pulled out their ma's old saddlebags for AJ, and their pa's for himself. He carried the bags over to the kitchen island and set them down on its marble countertop. He walked over to the chill chest and pulled out a pair of five-gallon water jugs and tied them onto the bags. Then, he went and pulled the peanut butter, zap apple jam, and some sawheat bread from the pantry. Mac carefully constructs twelve PB&Js, and places six in each bag along with six apples from the apple basket. Next, he walks over to the living room and opens up a large oak trunk. Inside is all of the first-aid kits. After several minutes of digging, Mac removes two travel ready first aid kits, and takes them back to the kitchen. "Mornin' Mac," Applejack says sullenly as she sees him enter, pulling eggs from the chill chest. "Wigh wagh yogh meaghn?" Mac mumbles through the first aid kits. "Come again?" AJ replies flatly while she pulls a skillet from the pot rack, then pours herself a cup of coffee. Mac places the first aid kits in the bags, and says, "which way you mean?" "Both, I guess," AJ sighs. "Prench toast okay with you for breakfast?" Applejack added, looking up at Mac from her cooking. "Eeyup," He replied. "Good, ‘cause if it wasn't, I was gonna tan yer hide and make me some new saddlebags," AppleJack echoed their mother's favorite saying. At that she smiled. Mac returned this quip and smile with a hug and a throaty, "Love ya ,sis." "Love you too, bro," she replied into Mac's shoulder. "I think you've just about packed our bags. How about you go wake up Apple Bloom and Granny. By the time yer done, I'll have breakfast done and ready, so we can eat and get a move on." "On it," Mac grunted. Waking up Granny would be a slice of apple pie, but Apple Bloom would be closer to waking up a sleeping ursa major. Hopefully she’ll remember what today is, and cut me some damn slack, he thought, trudging up the stairs to Apple Bloom’s room. Mac could handle a raging hydra, he could tackle a stampede and stop it dead in its tracks, Hay, he could even stand up to his special somepony’s stare, but one thing that Mac couldn't handle was a sleeping ten year old filly who could buck your skull in to next week without even trying. Truly Apple Bloom would give AJ a run for her money in a few years. Big Mac walked up to Apple Bloom's door, and slowly opened it. There, sleeping like the little dev- angel she was, was Mac's youngest sister, and the Apple family's youngest member. She lied there snoring louder than something so small should have any right to. Her mane wild and almost resembled Pinkie Pie's frizzy madness. Huh, never noticed that before. Looks like we might be related to the pies. Wonder if AJ's does that? He chuckled at the thought of being related to that insane pink party pony. Also, Applejack with that mane? Come on. Apple Bloom spoke in her sleep, “No Sweetie… ain’t right… we can’t…” with that last word Apple Bloom Smooched her pillow. Mac entered the room to see Apple Bloom gnawing and licking her pillow. Not even six o'clock, and that kid already ain't right. "Apple Bloom, it's time to get up; AJ an' I gotta go soon. Breakfast is ready," Mac whispered to Apple Bloom, lightly rubbing her back. Usually, this tactic of whispering and soothing contact would lessen the chance of getting bucked. "Gjhghhhhhnkkuhhhggdshhghibkyggh...cutie...crusaders...sleep...yay," Apple Bloom muttered as she gave a ferocious buck out towards where Mac had been standing a moment before. "Come on Bloom, this ain’t the time. You know what day it is; time ta get up," Mac said, a little irritated at the fillies reluctance to get up. "AppleJack made breakfast, If ya don’t get up now, ya won't get none." Bribery was sure to work. "Whad sh’ mahke?" Apple Bloom asked, moving her face into the dry, non-chewed side of the pillow. Some progress, now to deliver the finishing blow. "She made Foalton Brown’s prench toast recipe," Mac said, knowing this would get her right up. "REALLY! AJ MADE A FOALTON BROWN RECIPE?" Apple Bloom screamed. The screaming starled Mac into a flinch. When he opened his eyes, Apple Bloom's bed was made up perfectly, her coat was combed and clean, her breath was fresh and her mane was perfectly straight and tied with their ma's bow, and she was sitting in front of Mac with a mile wide smile. "Ya comin’, slowpoke?" Apple Bloom said, looking at Mac before she raced down stairs to her prized breakfast. I'm really starting to think there is a little bit of pie in us now. Mac saw Granny Smith shuffling past the door. She looked at him and smiled. "Mornin' Big Macintosh. judgin' by Apple Bloom's reaction, breakfast sounds pretty good," she said with a little chuckle. Mac wiped the shock from his mind of the impossible feat his sister had just performed, and walked over to Granny Smith and gave her a hug. "Love ya, Granny," Mac mumbles into Granny Smith's shoulder. "Love you too, Appleseed, lets go get some food. The faster we eat, the faster you and AJ can get movin’," She said, hopping onto Mac's back. “Hehe. Hope ya don’t mind me catchin a ride to the table, do ya? "You got it, Granny," Mac said, walking down the stairs, Granny Smith in hoof. Something feels different this time, it's not as...depressing as it usually is. Not just for me, but it seems the whole family. I have a good feeling about today... for once. Mac smiles and walks down the stairs. "So AppleJack," Mac heard Apple Bloom say through sips of apple juice. "Is prench toast really from Prance?" "I don't know, sugarcube," AJ replied, chuckling."I-" "I bet Foalton Brown knows!" Apple Bloom exclaims. "He knows everything about everything he cooks!" "I'm willin' ta bet that prench toast ain't even Prench!" Granny Smith adds, fidgeting to get off of Mac. "Why, I'll bet it's just those Prench cow-" "Granny Smith Apple!" Applejack says in a disappointed tone. "I can't believe that you of all ponies are talking this way." "If you'd let me finish!" Granny says, giving AJ the crazy eye. "I was going to say those prench cows would be too snooty an 'hoity toity' ta eat stale bread no matter how it was cooked." Mac stood there shocked at AJ's tribalist assumption. "I'm so sorry, Granny. It's just I'm not in my right mind with today bein' ... today, an’ all..." AJ mumbled apologetically. Mac walks over to the table with Granny Smith, and digs into his breakfast. Three slices of Prench toast, scrambled eggs, and 3 hay bacon strips. Within a matter of minuets, AJ and Big Mac are finished eating. They start washing up their plates while Granny and Apple Bloom are still eating. Normally they would have eaten together and waited for their family to finish, but today was different. Mac gazes at the clock 6:15. Not too, bad just a little late. "You ready to head out, AJ?" Mac asks his sister, picking up their saddlebags and placing his own upon his back. "Yeah Mac. Gimmie' a sec," Applejack says reluctantly. "Okay now, Granny watch over the farm. Apple Bloom watch over Granny." "I dont need no watchin' out for!" Granny Smith interjects. "Oh come on AJ, Granny can handle herself," Apple Bloom whines. "I was gonna go Crusadin with Sweetie and Scoots today!" "Please Granny, I know you can take care of yerself, but it never hurt ta have a little help," Applejack says sympathetically. For a second, it looked like Granny Smith would protest, but her face softened, and she gave a sigh. "Alright, Appleseed." Granny Smith harumphed. “As for you, Apple Bloom, I need ya here on the farm today. You know that with Mac an’ I gone, we need somepony to watch over the critters,” AppleJack said. Seeing the disappointed look on the little filly's face, AppleJack added, “This is a big responsibility, I know you’ve been tryin’ to gain some more recently, and I know yer not a little filly anymore. Today is yer chance to earn some of that responsibility.” "Now one more thing, if any ponies from the bank show up just tell em' I'll be back tomorrow. Granny you know what to do, Apple Bloom act... ahhhhh... act like...umm...act like ya do when yer at one of Rairity’s fancy fru-fru tea parties she makes Sweetie drag you to," Applejack says, giving a concerned look at each of them. They both nodded "yes Ma’am!" Then, Apple Bloom ran off after emitting an 'eep.' Granny just looked off towards where Apple Bloom ran off to and shrugged. "Now where did she..." "Sorry! I forgot. I had Scootaloo draw somthin’ for you guys to give ma and pa today." Apple Bloom said, galloping back around the corner and sliding a little on the rug. She dropped a colored portrait in front of AppleJack. AJ looked at the drawing. It was their Ma and Pa, but they were standing with the current versions of their children, and Granny standing in front of the Barn. "Apple Bloom, Scootaloo really drew this?" AppleJack asked. "This is professional quality. Its almost like we were all really there to pose fer this," she said, tears welling in her eyes. Mac looks over, and his heart breaks and melts at the same time. He can feel the small tears streak down his face, but these are tears of happiness. Neither he nor AJ could have ever imagined seeing their parents with their children (mostly) all grown up. Granny smith just stood there staring at the picture. She was speechless, thoughtless, hay she was even flabbergasted at what she saw. After a minute deep in thought, she smiled. AppleJack was speechless, tears rolling freely down her face, staring at the picture. "Apple Bloom. Ma and Pa would love it. I love it. I'll make sure that it gets to them," Mac said, fighting his emotions. He sniffled. "C'mon AJ. We gotta go. We’re already late as it is." After rolling up the drawing, he places it in his own saddle bag, wiping some of the fresh tears off on the well preserved fabric. “Right Big Mac, let’s get a move on. I Love ya’ll with all of my heart. Granny, Apple Bloom be safe. we’ll be back before ya know it.” AppleJack and Big Macintosh began their arduous trek through the dying orchards of Sweet Apple Acres and on towards the graves of their long lost parents.