The first and most glaring thing that I had to contend with: Applejack was a girl. And not just any, practically one that would easily turn heads no matter where she went, with that southern accent, hardworking and honest personality, beautiful face, and—dare I say it—buxom body. And she was staying here. In my house. If I had been stupider, this would have been a recipe for disaster, but I knew quite well that if I tried anything shady, she could probably break my bones and not think twice about it.
The beginning of her stay and our relationship didn't start out like that, though: as a basic test, we simply began switching things out in the house. One type of flower in a flowerpot with another one, and other things like that; simple, but easy enough that she couldn't just have actually pulled my eyes like she did with that car, and went 'hey, managed to pull this out of thin air for you!' only for it to be some elaborate trick. With the amount of swapping I had her do, I was fairly confident that she was genuine.
After that, things just sort of segued into... normalcy, I guess. Today was now Saturday, and I had the unfortunate chance of running into her as she was using the shower. How, one may ask, did I manage to pull off such a mishap within my own house? I have no idea myself, really. I had woken up one morning and everything was all quiet. So the first thing in my mind was the bathroom, since my room didn't have one; the other one was within my parents' master bedroom, and I usually left that one alone.
So, like the sleepy idiot I was, I just strolled on into the bathroom and proceeded to immediately start brushing my teeth. About twenty seconds afterwards, I noticed a blushing face in the mirror and the towel that was being held up to cover her body. And it was right then that my mind kicked in and elicited a reaction from me. And the best my mind could react with?
"...oh," I muttered. "Good morning, Applejack."
"Uh... Ian... do you mind?"
"Yes, I do. Sorry about that, I'll just... go to the other bathroom now..."
Good lord, the size of her—
I take the time to physically slap myself on the way out of the bathroom, feeling my cheek getting stabbed by the toothbrush still in my mouth. It was still morning, and I definitely did not want my little self down there making decisions that would involve some very prompt ass-kicking from a woman who physically dealt with hard labor for a living.
My parents' master bedroom bathroom was nothing short of luxurious: the whole bubble bath spa thingy, fancy tiled floors, and a general area that was as big as my own room, if not bigger. It was a shame it didn't get much use, and even more of a shame that what use it had now was my secondary toothbrushing station. So I fooled around at the sink, finishing my brushing and giving myself an approving look in the mirror like I did every morning.
"...uh, Ian? Sorry 'bout that, I don't know what happened," Applejack, now fully clothed, said as she entered the roomy interior. “Wow... this is some really fancy stuff.”
“No worries,” I said. “I’m curious: do you think that reaction was natural, or...?”
“I... I think it was. I mean, how I’m dealin’ with this whole thing is because I’m sort of playin’ it off of what your mind’s been tellin’ me. I guess since you folks wear clothes all the time, it’s sort of embarrassin’ to be seen without ‘em?”
I snapped my fingers at her. “Bingo: you are correct.” I gargle and spit before dropping my toothbrush into the empty cup next to the sink, where my parents would have normally kept theirs. This bathroom was going to be mine from now on; Applejack could use the other one. “So, Applejack, what would you like for breakfast? I can make some omelets if you’d like...”
Now that was a strange thought: I’d never made any omelets in my entire life.
“...sure. Well, whatever you want to make, Ian, I’m fine with it...” she said, pulling down her oversized T-shirt to cover her shorts. Well, more like my shorts, and my shirt, and she was just wearing them; ostensibly, the clothes she had shown up in were the only ones she had, and they were all mostly drenched by the time we had gotten home yesterday. So I gave her some of mine.
“Uh... you sure you don’t want something else to wear?” I asked. “I could just go dig out something more presentable or even go through my mom’s wardrobe, if you want...”
“No, it’s fine, just... darnit, I’m just so used to not wearin’ clothes that when I go from regular ol’ pony me to somethin’ like... this, it just takes some gettin’ used to. I mean, I’m fillin’ in the blanks that it’s supposed to be normal, but it’s kind of freezin’ right now...”
“Oh, I think I know what you need, then...” I scurried out the door and headed straight for my room, digging through my closet for... yes, there it is. Pajama bottoms-slash-pants, or at least a really tacky black-and-red plaid that I normally reserved for when my legs felt like they were about to fall off due to the cold.
“...what’re you lookin’ for, Ian?” I turned around and tossed the pajama pants to her. “...pants? Well, I guess this’ll work...” She dropped the shorts and I immediately turn around, blush growing on my cheeks.
“So, uh... I’ll just go downstairs and make breakfast now, alright?” I said, not even giving her a chance to say anything before I walked out with my eyes closed, then snapped them open and make straight for the stairs.
“Uh... thanks for the pants?” she slowly responded. "Uh... am I supposed to—" Nope, not going there. I ignored the remainder of her statement as I reach the top of the stairs and headed down as fast as my cold-afflicted legs would take me, and slid across the smooth wooden flooring straight into the kitchen. Socks were always good for that.
"Eggs... eggs... eggs..." I muttered, sticking my head into the fridge in an attempt to prolong the time I had to think. Omelets? Why omelets? God knows that I'm only going to end up burning them or some stupid crap like that. Maybe something different. Damn, there wasn't a lot of stuff here in the fridge. Just eggs. And maybe hash browns. Were there even any of those left?
I slammed the lower fridge door shut and wheeled open the one for the freezer. Was there... yes! In a package of ten, there were exactly two hash browns left. I would actually be able to make something palatable today, good for me! I swiped the package off of the freezer door shelf faster than my dad would be in the kitchen the moment someone mentioned the word 'pizza'.
Sliding my way over to the stove, I grabbed a fresh pan from the dishwasher nearby and flipped it on to medium heat. I had to let the whole pan heat up first, and until then, now would be a good time to catch up on anything on the television or watch something I had already recorded on the DVR. Perhaps Doctor Who, or The Walking Dead, or even My Little—
D'oh, I thought as I mentally facepalmed. Nope, not with Applejack here.
But the new episodes! Damnit, this was a tough choice, but she won out. Never was I more debilitated by my sudden cut-off from my entertainment. Too outlandish, too violent, and too... close to home, when categorized in that order, certainly didn't help. She probably had a hard enough time adjusting to her body as it is.
"Uh... Ian... are you okay?" she asked, coming into the kitchen and flexing her toes on the cold tiled floor. "I don't know how you folks can stand to live like this all the time... it's downright uncomfortable."
"Just let me get the heater," I said, strolling over to the thermometer on the wall and setting the base heater startup temperature to... well, what it was right now: roughly sixty degrees. Any less and we'd practically be standing outside, minus the wind. "There, it should be coming on right about... now." The heater kicks into action right as I finished, and I smiled at her in the way that one would smile at someone after pulling off a self-proclaimed spectacular feat to an unamused audience.
"...you sure got a lot of them fancy contraptions in this world," she said, hugging herself as she walked over to the couch and sat down on it. I darted up the stairs and grab a few spare blankets sitting in my parents' closet, and quickly deposited them on the lap of my freezing damsel-in-distress.
"Better?" I asked her.
"Much better. T-thank you," she stuttered, sighing happily as she bundles herself up. "Oh, I think your pan's ready."
Damn, she didn't give me enough time to bask in her endearing and somewhat innocent acceptance of the blankets. Truth be told, I was very much inclined to join her, but I had a breakfast to cook, and I was descended from a line of lumberjacks, or so my father told me. Puny insignificant cold like this should have been no annoyance to me, but then again, my beard was not present during this time. Probably a good thing, since I wasn't sure how Applejack would react to it.
Sock-skating over to the stove, I opened the styrofoam egg container sitting on the counter next to it: four eggs. Okay, maybe adding something else to make the meal more substantial would have been nice. The next easiest thing I thought of making was oatmeal, but I hadn't made that for ages. And we didn't have any of the prepackaged versions, just a bag of oats in the pantry.
Bah, to hell with everything else. Eggs and hash browns it was. I felt partially embarrassed that I couldn't sweep her off her feet in a most spectacular fashion with a three-course meal that would have looked and tasted fantastic. Instead, I was in my pajamas cooking eggs and hash browns for what must have been the most pathetic breakfast I've ever made in my entire life, even worse than the failed one I had trying to make waffles on Mother's Day.
I grabbed a spatula and got to work. Drip of oil, drop in the eggs—two for each of us—and then let that baby cook while I started messing around with the stupid plastic-wrapped hash brown package and eventually relented to using a pair of scissors to cut that damn thing wide open. Now I had hash browns that were as hard as bricks and covered with frost, so I dropped them on a plate and send it off to the microwave.
College student cuisine. Or is it lazy man's cuisine? Perhaps both.
The eggs begin to come together nicely, and I spend some time tussling with them as I pretend not to notice that gaze coming off from my left. Applejack quite clearly had her eyes pointed in my direction as eviced by her face right out of my peripheral vision, most likely to see if, or rather, how badly I'd mess up cooking something when it wasn't as easy to put together as a bunch of leafy greens and salad dressing.
Eventually, I flicked my head to meet her gaze, only for her eyes to widen like a deer in headlights. She immediately turned away afterwards, suddenly finding the coffee table in front of her an infinitely more interesting subject than myself. It sure felt weird to have a person... pony... pony-person staring at me like that. She huddled together and hugged her knees, staring at the blank television screen ahead of her. Boy, that was awkward.
And that wasn't taking into account the soul-crushing silence that permeated the room.
"So..." I began. "...how's... life on the farm?"
Oh, yeah, real smooth, myself. Real smooth.
"It's... nice. A little different since you're not there. You showed up to help every so often, and your magic really helped out during the worst of the applebuck season. Just so you know that you were actually... uh, helpful, that is." She sniffed and rubbed her nose, looking back at me without surprise now.
"That's... nice..." I said. "How's the family?"
"They're great!" she said, her mood brightening. "Mac's always workin' hard on the farm, as usual, and Apple Bloom... well, she's really different now, what with her new grades. Talks all the same, but now she's about as smart as Sweetie Belle."
"Really?" I asked, genuinely happy for her. "That's fantastic!"
"...you don't remember that either, do you?"
I looked up at her to see that she's returning a hard stare. "...what? Remember what?" I asked.
"It's nothin'." She goes back to sulking, laying down on the couch and pulling the blanket over her head.
"Applejack..." I said, plating the eggs and retrieving the lukewarm microwaved hash browns from the microwave. I placed the potato ovals into the pan and let them sizzle before I continued. "...Applejack... is there something that you're not telling me?"
No response. Well, then, if she wanted to put it like that...
"...Applejack. Do you want to talk about it?"
"...no."
See, was that so hard? I let her answer sit and go back to cooking breakfast. I liked making my hash browns just a little bit burnt; it gave it a nice crunch that I enjoyed. Hoping that she would enjoy it, too, I plated the hash browns next to the cooling eggs and clear my threat. "Breakfast is ready."
The normally proactive Applejack just gives me a groan before getting up, dragging the blanket she has on with her all the way to the table before seating herself and giving a disinterested look at the plate I put in front of her. I flash her a dry grin and hand her a fork, which she takes without much in the way of thanks. This was far from the Applejack that I knew in the show... it was like the life was just drained out of her.
And unless this whole game was a joke by Discord, I highly doubted that she would have been this way otherwise. So I returned again with the questions as she began to miserably poke around her plate with the fork.
"...you don't seem to happy about this," I slowly said, with as neutral a tone as I could manage. I didn't want to get a rise out of her, otherwise I would end up getting nowhere. Something was eating away at her, and I just had to know what.
"...stuck in a cold room eatin' a cold breakfast. It ain't that green here, the sun's blocked by clouds, it's windy and cold, and I hate not bein' a pony when I could easily make it through this sort of weather without freezin' my hooves—feet, whatever—off. I don't know how you can stand it, Ian. Aren't you miserable like this?" she asked, plopping a bite of eggs in her mouth.
"Well, this sort of weather only comes around once a year," I pointed out. "When you have extremes like the hotness of summer, sometimes chilly weather like this is a nice change of pace." And it was true: the summer temperatures had lasted well up through the end of November before winter finally kicked into gear. Probably had something to do with that 'climate change' that I heard being thrown around every once in a while.
"I think I would be fine with it if I were still a pony. Which I'm not." She was just a bag of grumbling today, wasn't she?
"Well, the heater's going to take some time to work, but I can already feel the air heating up in here. Can't you?"
"Why didn't you just turn it on yesterday?" she annoyedly asked.
"...I... forgot?" Really, it was an honest mistake. I was so used to not wasting power by just burying myself in blankets when I went to sleep that it completely escaped me that I even had a heater in the first place. "Really, if it's this much of a problem for you, just head back. I don't want to trouble you with—"
"No!" she shouted, slamming her fist into the tabletop. She realized her mistake and quickly collects herself, staring down at her plate as a fierce blush formed on her cheeks. "It's... I'm sorry, I'm just gettin' a bit antsy bein' here, that's all. Maybe when the house has heated up, I'll feel better, but... damn that Lyra and her obsession with humans..."
"What?" I had thought that Lyra and humans was a fan-given thing. "What about Lyra and humans?"
Breakfast got sidelined here and my hash browns went unattended. What role did Lyra have in this whole situation?
"She... you know, she's not all crazy 'bout humans and all that, you know?" Applejack said, putting her fork down and hugging her arms again. "But you were the only one in Ponyville who would listen to her, talk to her 'bout it. Not like some crazies hidin' away in some study goin' over all the little details, but you sort of got into it with her, meetin' up every once in a while at a cafe or somethin', and just chattin' the day away 'bout humans with all their hands and feet and jokin' all 'bout it. I guess it sort of stuck to you, because that's how things are now, in your dream world."
I placed my fork down as well, folding my arms and leaning back in my chair. "So... you're saying that you... that I'm a human because of something that Lyra and I used to talk about in our spare time?"
She nodded. "Yeah. I didn't think it would be somethin' big enough that you'd end up makin' an entire world out of it. But Princess Celestia told me that the mind works in lots of mysterious ways. But this whole thing, with you bein' a human... it ain't real. It's a lie."
"It certainly feels real enough to me," I replied, feeling just a tad bit offended that she was trying to invalidate my entire years' worth of human existence with a simple line. "You're saying that this whole thing, this world—my life—is a lie? Sorry, Applejack, I'm afraid you're going to have to start a little bit smaller than that, because it's going to take a hell of a lot of proof to prove that."
"I... I know, Ian," she said, sighing and rubbing her head. "I shouldn't have worded it like that... it's not like a lie, but a... a really fancy illusion. Yeah, somethin' like that. I know that you aren't really all willin' to accept that on such short notice, but maybe I can show you that I'm right. Slowly, and if we—the princesses and I—can start breakin' down those thoughts, then maybe we have a chance of bringin' you back to Equestria."
"I can agree on that. I mean, I get that you're trying to tell me it's fake, but I'm pretty damn sure that all the experiences that I've had are more real than you think." I sighed; it wasn't her fault that she didn't know better. "In any case, you were talking about Lyra. What was my relationship with her? And all the details... I'm pretty interested in knowing all the aspects of my other life."
She sighed and released her breath with a happy sigh, thankful that air was finally heating up. "You were... pretty close. Always havin' conversations over books you'd read, and both of you were in Twilight's book club. The first time you met her, well... she was pretty amazed how you were the only pony 'round who didn't laugh in her face when she started talkin' to you 'bout humans and stuff."
"I'm sure the pony I used to be is much better than I am now..." Which was a lukewarm comment, to say the least. I had only the faintest ideas of the pony known as Brightleaf. At the moment, he—or rather, I, but I just couldn't bring myself to think that way yet—seemed more like someone's OC straight off the internet than an actual representation of myself. It was like listening to the life and times of someone else that isn't you, but everyone told you that it was.
There was the strangest feeling associated with something like that.
She smiled at me. "Well, sugarcube... your apple didn't fall too far from the tree, if that's anythin' to you."
I tilted my head questioningly at her. "Somehow, I really doubt that."
"Yep, that's a lot like Brightleaf, alright," she said, taking the time to nibble on her food every once in a while now that the temperature was more bearable. "Always second-guessin' everythin' he does... sometimes to a fault. You care 'bout others, right?"
"I..." I paused. I wasn't the most generous person in the world, but the friends that I'd made were some of the most important people in my life. They just... didn't really factor into this situation at the moment. "I... guess so?"
"And you cared 'bout me. That much is true, right? And I'll even lay it out for you, sugarcube. You didn't really plan on leavin' me behind at that library yesterday, either, right?" she said, smugly smiling at me. She was trying to press my buttons, that much was true. But why, I didn't know. I didn't think Applejack had it in her to play these sorts of games.
"What if I answer 'yes'?" I said carefully.
"Well, you sort of already answered for yourself, takin' me, a lonesome girl who you probably didn't know, all the way back to your own home with you. And you fed me, clothed me, and even let me sleep here, too." She confidently takes another bite of her eggs. "That makes you a good pon—er, person, do you understand?"
"I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at here, Applejack... why is this important?"
"It's important because it means that even in this little dream world of yours, you're still the same. If you're anythin' like I expected you to be, you're always worryin' yourself silly over others. You don't like to show it, but you appreciate carin'. And when others care for you."
"I... think I'm getting it? I mean, I'm not a bad person, just fairly... average, I guess," I said, finally getting back to my hash browns as I give her a look. "Why this all of a sudden? Does this have something to do with my relation to you?"
She doesn't bother shying away from the question this time. "You're darn right it does."
"Okay... well... what is my relation... to you, exactly, Applejack? Since you're so willing to answer me this time, I'd like a straight answer from you." I cursed the hash browns for being cold; I would have stuck them back into the microwave, but I didn't want to give Applejack any way for her to cut the conversation short.
She was one step ahead of me, though. No sooner had I finished my sentence did she scarf down the rest of her food and pushed her plate forward towards me. "Sorry, Ian, I'm done. We'll talk 'bout it later, okay? I'm goin' upstairs to see if I can't rustle myself up something warmer. I promise that we'll talk 'bout it later today. Is that alright?"
I shrugged. "Well... I guess that'd be fine. Oh, you can leave your plate here, I'll wash it for you."
She smiled back at me, making my heart flutter with the sincerity behind it. "Thanks, sugarcube, I'd appreciate that." The conversation ends there as she just turns around and heads back upstairs. I honestly was more confused with myself than I was with her. Why had I decided to just let that conversation pass me by? Everything was just there, and when it came to that point, I felt perfectly content to just let it slide.
Maybe it was just a facet of my old self popping up, reminding that she could be trusted. And it wasn't like she was just going to walk out the door and run away, after all. I gathered up our plates to prepare them for washing and notice something hiding behind a pile of newspapers on the opposite side of the table, where'd I'd sat in the previous morning.
The toy Applejack, sitting perfectly in view of her side of the table.
Maybe she wanted to talk to me about that first.
I walked upstairs to my room, now realizing that one of the first things I should have done was to immediately store any pony-related materials in some place where the sun didn't shine. As it was, I walked over the top of the stairs and notice that there isn't any activity going on up here. Perhaps Applejack merely went back to the guest room, or was in the bathroom. But such wishes are always hopeful thinking.
She was waiting for me in my room, sitting on the bed staring at the My Little Pony Season One character poster I had hanging above my computer desk. She didn't even bother paying attention to me as I walked into the room and sat down next to her.
We sat there for a few minutes, both staring at the poster and all the pony merchandise I had sitting on and around my desk. Eventually, though, she found the courage to break away and look me straight in the eyes, saying nothing... but telling me everything I needed to know.
"So you're probably wondering about all of this...?" I asked, just to make sure.
She nodded. "Tell me everythin', sugarcube."
"You aren't... mad... or anything, are you?"
"Sugarcube, if I were mad, do you really think I'd be sittin' here talkin' to you 'bout it?"
"Point taken. I suppose you noticed the little... uh, you on the table downstairs?" I asked, awkwardly gesticulating towards the door. This was going to be one hell of a time for me. No use in complaining about it, though, best to just get it over with...
She nodded again. "I did. Though I don't have a hat..."
"Yeah, it was a... limitation... on the whole toy series. I apologize for Hasbr—er, the toy company for not making you in your complete likeness." That wasn't to say that she herself wasn't wearing her hat, either. "Do you have any questions to ask or anything, to get it out of the way...?"
"Just one, actually: how much do you know?"
"I... uh... well, let's see..." I mumbled to myself. "Assuming that all I know is up to the end of season 2, then... right after the invasion of the changelings, with Cadance and Shining Armor. Were those all true, by the way?"
"Truer than the sky is blue," she replied, looking back at the poster. "Sheesh, it looks like everypony is on that poster. Er, well, the important ones, I guess. Shoot, I remember that whole dang wedding... still tears me up to think that we all just turned our heads away from Twi like that..."
"You know, I never figured you to be more preoccupied with a dress than your friend's wellbeing, Applejack," I recalled, of the scene where she attempted to find and speak to her friends of Chrysalis' presence only to find them doting over their dresses instead. "You're always about honesty. Why didn't you just simply ask Twilight to provide you with proof? You knew she wouldn't just toss things around left and right without being able to substantiate them."
Applejack sighed. "I know, sugarcube, I know. But at the time, it just seemed like she was bein' all clingy to her brother and just didn't want to let him go. I should have listened to her then... I mean, who the hay just goes and starts accusin' a princess of tryin' to steal her brother away? You're right in sayin' that Twilight would have been able to tell me somethin', at least. I feel kind of stupid now."
"She was never one to do something dumb when her actions mattered the most. Although she did kind of confuse me myself, given how she didn't just drag one of you or even just Spike along to verify that something really was going on," I said. It felt really strange to be able to hear all of this straight from her mouth. Kind of like asking a dead historical figure what happened back in their day and they could recall it as if it were happening.
"Well, I suppose there's that," she said. "And there's also the fact that there were plenty of times that the princess was bein' rude, but we all just sort of chalked that up to bein' antsy for the wedding. We all learned the hard way 'cause of that."
"I didn't get much of that, either. Being rude at your own wedding is no way to rid yourself of stress. If anything, it'd only make it worse because now you're just making everyone else just as stressed as you are," I said, giving a quick glance to my computer to see if it was on; I had a tendency to do that occasionally, but I was glad to see it wasn't this time. Didn't want her catching my pony-themed desktop.
She smiled at me. "I guess you're right. But we... gosh, I don't know. It was like we were all too caught up in the wedding excitement to really pay attention to anything else. And Twilight just seemed like the only crazy one out of every other pony there and was just tryin' to go against the flow."
"Two sides to every coin," I mused. "So, what does all of this mean, then?" I continued, gesturing to all of my pony items. "What does all of this supposedly stand for within my dream world?"
"That's simple, darlin'. They're your memories. I remember tellin' you 'bout all the adventures I went on with my friends," Applejack said, her tone reclining into a reminiscent tone. "From how we met all the way to present day, and it seems like your mind didn't want to get rid of that."
"So out of anything pony that I remember, it's... only the stuff you've told me?" Darling. Did she ever call any other pony in the show by that word?
"It would seem so. I wonder why that is."
And wonder I did. So if I was dropped into a dream world as a former pony, why would it only have picked up what Applejack told me? Why not the more important things: like my name, cutie mark, and immediate family? Or where I was born, where I played as a kid, and all the other things from my personal life that should have been priority for subconscious transfer?
Well, it was silly of me to think that, anyway, when the answer was sitting right beside me.
I looked at Applejack and raise an eyebrow at her, which she returned. "What's wrong, sugarcube?"
"You called me 'darling'." Her face immediately went white and her eyes widened, and she turned to look at the wall again.
"That was... nothin'," she quickly responded.
"The way you reacted to that, it sure didn't seem like nothing."
"I told you already," she said, giving me a soft punch to the shoulder. "It was nothin'."
"You really are bad at lying, you know that?" I moved closer to her, enough that we were touching shoulder to shoulder. "Applejack..." I said softly, apprehensively staring at the side of her head as she looked on. "...what am I to you?"
To be honest, I wasn't sure whether or not I would like the answer. I was someone important to her, that much was known, but how important... I recalled distinctly hearing her yesterday, during my question about who they chose to come for me, that they didn't draw straws. She'd volunteered for this, to jump into the depths of another's mind without any concern for her own well-being. That she might end up the same as me, stuck in her own dream world as she wasted away in the real one. Or that she might be stuck in this world with me, forever.
We said nothing for a long while, and it easily topped as the most tense moment in my entire known life, almost feeling like it stretched into eternity as we sat there. The clock continued to tick along and it felt like everything just stopped... until she turned her head and stared into my soul with those emerald green eyes of hers.
"I can't... I can't tell you... Ian... Brightleaf... but I can show you."
The reason why my mind remembered what she'd told me.
"Just... just close your eyes and... I'll show you."
Why it was her words, and only hers alone.
"Applejack... are you... sure about this?" I asked her.
She was the most important thing in my former life.
"Darlin'... I have never been more sure about anythin' in my entire life..."
I closed my eyes, and waited for the imminent contact. I felt her arms wrap around me, and a growing warmth approaching my cheeks, and tensed my body in anticipation. The scent of apples grew strong, mixed in with the smell of the body soap from the shower as her heated breath began to fall onto my face.
We were... lovers?
"W-wait, Appleja—"
And then our lips met. It was a very gentle touch, pressing forward only slightly as she held her side of the kiss for several seconds, then pulled away. She didn't give me any time to respond, nor to open my eyes, before she returned yet again, pressing harder and pressing in her tongue this time... an act which I reciprocated. Just as it seemed that we were about to take things to the next level, she stopped, pulling away with finality this time as I finally opened my eyes.
"...is that enough, darlin'?" she simply asked, arms still held around my neck.
"...yeah..." I dumbly responded. "I... I had no idea, Applejack, I—"
She put a finger on my lips to silence me. "Don't blame yourself, darlin'. You didn't know any better," she assured me, before pulling her finger away and pulling me into a hug.
"But..." I was as important to her as she was to me. And the moment she first met me, she must have been... ecstatic, beyond all belief, to just be able to meet me again, if it... wasn't me. Wasn't myself; the person—pony, that she knew. "I... Applejack, I'm so, so sorry... about what happened yesterday. You must have been in so much pain, but.... but..."
I felt the need to say it: why didn't you just tell me? It seemed sudden now, but there were plenty of opportunities to make it more sudden than it did now. And at those times, I wasn't really sure if I would have believed her. Maybe I would have: a guy like me didn't exactly have a bombshell of a woman asking him out on a date every other day. And someone as beautiful as she was just willing to do such a thing for me, to dive into the proverbial depths of hell itself just to find me... I felt undeserving of what she was giving to me.
Her love. Her pure, unconditional love.
"It's okay, darlin'..." she whispered, tightening her hug. "We're back together now."
"But... I... still don't remember anything..."
"One step at a time, Ian... one step at a time. The princesses are workin' on ways to try to restore your memories, and they told me that... that interactin' with the things most important to you would help with that. That was why... when I saw that your mind still remembered all the things that I'd told you, that you recognized who I was... maybe you didn't remember anythin' else. But you remembered me."
I should have been elated, but all that I experienced was a cold stab in the pit of my stomach. "So... what... what if you fail?" I asked. "What if you can't rescue me?"
"Then..." she began. "I... don't... know... I don't want to leave you here alone, Ian."
"Been alone for most of my life," I said, smiling sadly at the ceiling. "Learned to live by myself pretty well... though when you put it in a light like this, I guess it isn't so great. But I'm glad to have you here, at least."
"Oh... Ian..." she mumbled into my shoulder. "I wish it were just... just easy to come in and pluck you out of your dream. To have you return to bein' who you are... my coltfriend... a true brother to Mac and Apple Bloom... and a member of the Apple family. I want you back, so badly..."
"So I guess I now know why you girls didn't bother drawing straws. It had to be you."
"...yeah..."
We sat there, hugging each other for a while. At the very least, my assumptions had been correct, though that only just now raised the stakes a bit. Disbelieving things I used to believer were true was the first step in trying to get myself out of the prison I'd made for myself... but that would take effort. I began to contemplate ways of trying to screw around with reality until I felt my body exhale... and my vision began to blur.
"...Ian...? Ian?! Ian!" I heard Applejack shouting, as my arms went slack and my head began to tilt backwards. My eyes closed themselves and all sound faded away, replaced with flashes of blinding white and the sound of my own rhythmic heartbeat thundering in my ears. Had they succeeded? Was it really as easy as that?
As it turned out, no, it wasn't. But as the flashes and thumping stopped, my vision was replaced with a pure white, no longer grating but soothingly welcome. I felt... disembodied, as if my own being of presence was just simply... floating there. White gradually began to give way to blue... then green... then brown... and then... faintest traces of red. I looked down and what I saw wasn't feet... but hooves. Green ones.
This was... Brightleaf.
And I was standing in... Sweet Apple Acres! For a split second, I felt my senses go into hyper-awareness, trying to take in every single possible detail around me as I struggled to maintain my grip on my current state of mind. But it wasn't to be, as I could feel my focus bleeding away at an alarming rate, and before long, my vision slowly began to shrink into a tunnel of white. The ringing returned, though it seemed like a cacophony of reckless bell ringing than the heartbeats it had been before.
White gave way to black and before long, I could feel the warm air tinted with a ting of frost channel into my lungs again. That was... interesting. But it also gave me the insight, that one shred of proof, of what had been. What I had to... convince myself was real.
"No, please... please, darlin', don't do this to me... please... please... please... oh, Celestia, help him! Can't you help him?!" I heard Applejack cry out. I was laying on the bed now, and slowly opened my eyes to find her sobbing into my chest. "Not like this...! Please, not like this...!"
"Applejack..." I coughed out. "It's... okay..."
She gasped and immediately shot her face in front of mine. "Ian...! You're... okay?"
"Yeah... I'm fine. What happened to me?"
"I... I don't know. The whole time I was just... so helpless. You just stopped breathin' and... and then I thought... you were dead! Or dyin', and I tried to talk to the princesses and just... if you died, I don't know how I would have lived with myself! And heavens to Betsy, don't you ever do that to me ever again!"
"Well, I'm here now," I said, rubbing the side of my head. "So you obviously didn't plan for this to happen, because I sort of had a little revelation during my little trip to near-death-land."
"Really? What'd you see?" Applejack asked, curious. And now literally straddling me as both of her arms were perched on either side of my head, and she stared at me. "Did you... did you remember?"
"A little bit..." I said, giving a small nod with my head. "I was standing... somewhere, pretty sure it was Sweet Apple Acres. I saw bit of sky, grass, tree, and... apples. Then I looked down and I saw my hooves. They were... green. And that was as far as I got before I ended up back here."
"That's... that's great, darlin'," she said, giving a heartfelt smile as she lowered her head onto my shoulder and rolled her body over next to me. "I... think this just might work."
"So do I," I said, wrapping an arm around her as we lay together. "Say... Applejack?"
"Yes, darlin'?" she asked.
"Can we just... stay like this for a while?"
She tilted her head and pecked my cheek. "Of course."