Apple Bloom trotted into the Golden Oaks Library, still a little unsteady on her hooves. It was a fairly quiet building; only a few other ponies sat around the room. Caramel and his marefriend, Sassaflash, were quietly making out in a corner. Trixie, the mayor’s chief of staff, was lost in a trashy romance novel, her eyes wide and dewy. Zecora was idly paging through a cookbook. Apple Bloom strode up towards the main desk, when she was suddenly hugged tightly from behind. “Gah!” she yelped, dropping her umbrella.
“What’s the matter, Bloom?” a teasing voice asked from behind her. “Afraid of your own friends?”
Apple Bloom turned around and found herself face to face with a smiling pale pink mare about her own age, whose purple and white mane were neatly brushed. “Oh. Hey, Diamond,” Apple Bloom said, relieved. Faintly, in the back of her brain, she felt hackles rising, but she wasn’t quite sure why. The mayor’s daughter had been one of her closest friends since before they could talk. Tiara’s father and Apple Bloom’s parents had known each other for a long time, so it seemed only natural for the two of them to grow up side by side. Yet, there was something wrong once again! Bloom squinted at the pink mare.
Tiara’s smile faded. “Bloom? What’s wrong? Is there something in my teeth?”
The yellow mare shook herself from her reverie and smiled. “Aw, ev’rythin’s fine, DeeTee. Jes’ a li’l headache. So, what’s up?”
“Oh, just working on Daddy’s reelection campaign,” Tiara replied. “I can count on your family to vote for him, of course?”
“Remind me, who-all’s he runnin’ against?”
Diamond’s face screwed up. “Davenport,” she spat. “Y’know, the rich furniture guy? I mean, what does he know about politics?”
Bloom chuckled. “Probably not a heck of a lot,” she agreed. “Ah wouldn’t worry. Yer daddy’s run this town darn well as long as Ah can remember. So, other’n that, what else you been up to?”
Diamond shrugged. “Oh, this and that,” she said casually. “Homework, of course. Trying to get a summer internship job up in Canterlot. Planning the best way to ask that cutie Rumble on a date…”
Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t figure he was your sorta colt,” she observed. “Not much of a go-getter.”
Diamond shrugged, smirking. “Let me worry about that. I’ll have him twisted ‘round my hoof like so much putty.” She stomped on the floor emphatically.
Bloom chuckled. “You get ‘im,” she said with a grin.
“Other than that…” Diamond trailed off. “Silver Spoon’s coming back to town soon.”
“Nice. Where’d she an’ her folks go this time?”
Diamond looked up at the ceiling in thought. “...Someplace in Bactria, I think. No, I tell a lie, it was a dig in Acacia. Some ancient giraffe king.”
“Is that near Timbucktoo?”
“Not really. I mean, they’re in two different countries. Why?”
Bloom shook her head. “Oh, no reason. Jes’ popped into mah head. We should try’n throw her a ‘welcome home’ party.”
Diamond grinned. “Already got entertainment planned, refreshments arranged, and invitations written.”
“Sheesh,” Bloom said, shaking her head. “Well, Ah guess yer on top o’ it already.”
“I like to think of myself as ruthlessly efficient, but in a friendly way,” Diamond agreed, teeth glimmering in her broad smile. “Your invitation should arrive later today. Gotta run, but I’ll see you later!”
“Catch ya later, DT,” Apple Bloom agreed. “Good luck with Rumble!”
She’ll need it, a voice murmured at the back of her mind. Bloom pointedly ignored it, and instead trotted up to the desk. “Mornin’, Twilight.”
“Twilight?” an unfamiliar voice chuckled. The librarian set down the book he had been reading, revealing a bright blue stallion in a bow tie. “Sorry, none in. Lot of rubbish, anyway. Vampires don’t sparkle. They shimmer a bit, or at least the Saturnines did.” He smiled down at the yellow mare. “How ‘bout some Harry Trotter?”
Apple Bloom backed away. “Uh, not today, thanks… Doc Ragg’dy.”
“Sure? Well, alright then,” the librarian said, leaning forward in his chair. “What can I do for you today?”
“Uh,” Apple Bloom said, feeling oddly wrong-hoofed. “Jes’ came to return these.” She removed a few books from her saddlebags and placed them on the desk.
The Doctor watched her carefully. “You feeling okay?” he asked quietly. “You seem a little... “
“Out of it?” the mare suggested.
“I was thinking ‘Doo-lally’, but that works too,” the Doctor agreed brightly. “Not been sleeping well or something?”
“Nah, nah,” Bloom replied, shaking her head. “Jes’ feelin’ a bit off today. M’ mem’ry’s playin’ tricks on me.”
“Bit of the ol’ deja vu?”
Bloom squinted. “Uh, somethin’ like that, Ah guess. That’s when it feels like you’ve seen somethin’ before, right?”
“That’s it, yeah.”
Apple Bloom looked up at the ceiling. “There a phrase for seeing something that shouldn’t’a existed?”
"Ah, jamais vu! Never a pleasant sensation..." The Doctor paused, then frowned. “Why do you ask?”
She didn’t know why she asked. She didn’t even know what she had meant. What had she been thinking about? “Ah should go,” she said.
“Hold on,” the Doctor protested, but she was already dashing out the doors. The Time Lord made no move to follow her. A cold trickle of fear ran down his spine. Seeing something that shouldn’t have been? That could be… well. That could mean any number of things. Something had been preying on his mind for some time now. Something was wrong with the world, and somehow the youngest Apple in town had gotten tangled up in it.
His youthful expression faded for a moment. Suddenly, he seemed to have aged centuries in an instant, and his eyes… In the next instant, he had brightened up once more, cheerfully smiling at the patrons of the library. But if anypony were to look closely, to see what hid in his hazel eyes, they would see the truth. The Doctor was scared.
***
Apple Bloom galloped through the muddy streets, uncertain of what, exactly, she was running from. A train whistle, long and loud, echoed in the distance. Ponies became blurs in the rain as she raced past, melting into one another until finally she halted atop the hoofbridge, breathing heavily, her legs burning. Fear, unrelenting and illogical, filled her. She didn’t know why she was scared, or even what she was afraid of. A small, rational part of her noticed that she had left the umbrella at the library, but the bulk of her mind elected to ignore that for now. Her eyes went narrow. She wasn’t sure yet just what was going on, but she intended to find out. And she would start back at Sweet Apple Acres…
***
The screen door of the farmhouse slammed open and Apple Bloom rushed through. Granny frowned at her. “Slow down there, young mare,” she warned. “Ye’ll do yerself a mischief, crashin’ around like that.”
“Sorry, Granny.” Apple Bloom replied vaguely, eyes darting around.
The elderly mare frowned as her grandfilly quickly trotted up the stairs. There was something odd about that filly today. Thoughtfully watching the swish of the retreating red tail, Granny slowly trotted toward the kitchen. As her hooves clattered against the wooden planks, a pair of ocean green eyes— not pear green, Granny reminded herself, not anymore. There were green apples too— turned from their work to glance at her. “Something the matter, Granny?” Buttercup asked lightly, glancing back to her work, her autumn-colored mane swinging towards the older mare like a mass of cotton candy. She was cutting an apple into paper-thin slices, favoring her good hoof, then arranging them in a pie crust.
Granny eased into a chair, idly picking up an apple and tossing it from hoof to hoof. There was a moment of silence. “Ah’m worried ‘bout Bloom,” the green mare said after a moment.
The silence became rather more tense. At length, the other mare turned from her pie crust. “And why might that be, Granny Smith?”
The matriarch’s eyes shifted, unable to meet the penetrating gaze of her daughter-in-law. “She’s been actin’... mighty odd, today. Like she ain’t sure she fits in right. Ah ain’t sayin’ no more’n that, Buttercup.”
The pale peach mare said not a word, but redoubled her speed and force with the small knife in her hoof. Granny pursed her lips tightly. “Jes’, Ah’d look into it. Afore she goes an’... does summat.”
Light teal eyes went wide for a moment, then narrowed to slits as the face they were on contorted into a scowl. Buttercup nodded slowly. “You mean before she becomes an Orange. Or a Pear.”
“Ah didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Buttercup returned. Then she took a deep breath in and let it out in a long sigh. “We’ll all have a family meeting. We can all talk to her.”
Granny nodded back. “Ah’ll fetch Brightie an' Junior. Where are they?”
“South orchard.”
The elderly green mare nodded, and trotted purposefully out the door. Pear Butter watched her go, then sat down heavily on the floor. She slumped forward and buried her head in her hooves, her eyes closed and her mind spinning with memories.