//------------------------------//
// Without a Leg To Stand On 
// Story: The Apple Of Her Dreams 
// by Plonq 
//------------------------------//

In spite of the visibly late hour, Applejack was not one to disrupt her habitual morning rituals. The mare yawned, stretched, rolled out of bed and donned her hat. She took a quick look in the mirror, noted the bags under her eyes and - most importantly - checked that the hat was straight before she trotted out of her bedroom toward the kitchen. The pony would be the first to admit that she kept a much simpler morning routine than most other mares.

She was not surprised to find Granny Smith in the kitchen when she arrived. The elderly matron was asleep in her rocker, snoring loudly, with a copy of the Canterlot Gazette lying forgotten in her lap. Applejack cleared her throat politely as she entered the room to roust the old pony. The latter awoke with a snort and an incoherent mumble.

"There ya are," said Granny Smith once she was done smacking her lips and scratching herself fully conscious. "We was wonderin' if ya were plannin' to wake up."

"Ah'm awake," said Applejack. She covered her mouth with a hoof and yawned deeply before she cantered over to the oven. She pulled it open and found it empty and cold.

"Ya sure yer awake?" asked the green mare. "Them's some pretty big bags yer packin' under them peepers."

"Ah'm fine, Granny," said Applejack, stifling another yawn. "Ah didn't sleep none too well last night on account of some pretty crazy dreams." She closed the oven and then opened it again for a second opinion.

"There's fritters in the icebox if that's what yer after," said Granny Smith with a vague wave in its direction. The old mare had picked up her newspaper again and was reading it while she talked.

Applejack plodded over to the icebox and pulled out a plate of fritters. She put the plate on the table with one hoof while she casually kicked shut the cooler with her opposite, rear leg. The act of disrespect for her grandmare's favourite icebox earned her a whinny of disapproval, but Applejack was used to being the target of the other pony's wrath. She continued as if nothing had happened. "Where's everypony else?" she asked as she jammed a fritter into her mouth.

"Apple Bloom is in school, an' Big Mac is out buckin' apples in the rear orchard," replied Granny Smith. She glanced over the top of her newspaper and made another sound of horsy disapproval. "Ain't ya gonna heat them things?"

"Mph," said Applejack around the cold fritter in her mouth. She swallowed and shrugged. "Ah wanna eat quick so I can get out back and help Big Mac"

Granny Smith was shaking her head before the other mare had even finished the statement. "He wants ya pressin' cider today," she said. 

Applejack had been reaching for another fritter, but she gave an angry stomp of her hoof instead. "Now that ain't fair," she protested. "Ah was pressin' cider all day yesterday. It was mah turn to buck apples today."

"Ya snooze, ya lose," cackled Grannie Smith. She flipped the Gazette page and peered over the top of it again. "Ya gotta wake up if ya want to earn the bucks."

Applejack groaned at the old mare's pun and grabbed another fritter. She munched on it absently while she stared out the front window. The orange pony frowned slightly at the strange, greenish tinge in the sky. "Uh, Granny," she said, "can ye turn to the weather page an' see if it's callin' for some weather today? Ah don't wanna be out there pressin' cider in a storm or it'll get all diluted."

Granny Smith glanced out the window as well. "Shore is an odd colour out there alright," she said. "Ya know the old sayin' about lime sky in morning ... something ... something - tarnation! I can never keep all them old sayings straight." She flipped through the pages. "Says here ya might wake up to green this mornin'."

"But nothin' about rain," prompted Applejack. She shoved another cold fritter into her mouth and chewed it distractedly.

"Nothin' bout rain," said Granny Smith. "So if yer tryin' to get out of pressin' cider then ya ain't got a leg to stand on. Yer own dang fault for not wakin' up." The old mare held the newspaper up closer to her muzzle and then jabbed the page with a hoof. "Well now, this ain't good," she said grimly.

"Hm? What ain't good, Granny?" Applejack tore her gaze away from the oddly tinted sky. 

"Sez here that there was another case of hoof & mouth," said the old pony. She glanced over the journal toward her granddaughter again. "Have ya got yer booster yet? Ya don't wanna be catchin' no hoof & mouth - it'll lay ya up for weeks."

"Of course ah did," said Applejack quickly. "They gave me them sugar cubes with the pink stuff in 'em."

Granny Smith scoffed so hard that she almost spat out her teeth. "Sugar cubes? They only give them ta fillies!" She blinked. "Wait, ya ain't had yer immunization since ya was in school? Them things don't last forever, Applejack. Ya need a booster!" The old pony shook her head. "Big Mac an' Apple Bloom have both already got theirs." She held out her left foreleg to show off a small bandage near her shoulder. "Ah even got mine." Granny Smith shook her head. "Sugar cubes... really! Ya need to go for yer shot, girl."

Applejack shuddered. "Why can't it just be another sugar cube?" she asked.

"Yer a grown mare, Applejack. Are ya telling me yer scared of a little needle?"

"Ah ain't scared of nothin'," said the the other pony defensively. She grabbed the last fritter and took a big bite to hide her sulk. "Ah just don't like 'em. They're so ... stabby an' stuff. Ah'll go fer the booster next week for sure," said Applejack as she tossed the final bite of fritter into her mouth. "Probably," she muttered through a mouthful of food.

While she chewed, the orange mare cantered over to the window to get a better look at the strangely coloured sky. The hue had been turning a more intense, powder green as they'd been chatting - to the point where it had begun to permeate the kitchen as well. "That shore is some stranger weather out there, Granny Smith," said Applejack. The other pony did not respond. "Granny..." began the mare again, but when she turned, she found that she was alone in the kitchen - though the elderly pony's chair was still rocking slightly as if it had just been vacated.

The old mare had left the Gazette lying face-up on the table, and the cover caught Applejack's attention. She cantered over and reached out a hoof to turn the paper toward her. Her own picture was on the front of the journal, with a bold headline over it reading, "Ponyville Mare In Coma After Tragic Accident" Below her picture was a smaller shot of Apple Bloom with the caption, "We all want our sis back. We just want her to wake up." There was a small byline about froufrou dresses coming back into style as well, but Applejack was more interested in the headline about her.

She flipped back the cover to the first page of the article, but the text just read the same thing over and over in different fonts and type faces.

Wake up! WAKE UP! wAkE UP! Wake UP! WAKE UP!"

"... what the hay," began the confused pony, but she was startled by another sound.

"Sis, wake up!" cried a faint, familiar voice from outside the house.

"Apple Bloom?" The mare bolted to the front window to look out. She could see nothing through the glass now except the yellow sun glaring at her through the strange, miscoloured firmament. Applejack blinked away tears and held up a hoof protectively against the blinding orb. She tried to make out details through the window, but all she could see was bright light and pale green sky.

"Applejack?"

This time there was no mistaking who had spoken. The mare tried to say her younger sister's name again, but her mouth was dry, and her tongue felt like it had swollen to the size of a pillow.

"She's wakin' up!" yelled the filly. Applejack heard the sound of tiny hooves running away from her. "Big Mac, she's wakin' up. Ya need ta go get Granny Smith an' the others."

"Eyup," came the voice of her brother.

Applejack heard a rustle and the sound of larger, heavier hooves joining those of Apple Bloom on the hard floor. The orange mare squeezed her eyes shut until they teared, opened them and then closed them again, trying to force them to focus. After a few more blinks, she began to make out cracks in the mignonette sky and realized that she was not looking at the sun, but at a light fixture set in an institutionally-green ceiling.

As she caught the sounds of her brother leaving the room, Applejack heard the simultaneous, light clop of her younger sister returning to her side. "A - Apple Bloom," she said, hoarsely.

"Don't try ta talk yet, sis," sniffled the filly, patting her bigger sibling gently through what felt like several layers of sheets. The mare tried to turn her head for a look at her younger sister, but the muscles in her neck gave an angry twinge and refused to respond. "We thought we was gonna lose you," wailed the filly at her shoulder.

Applejack tried to process what her sister had meant by that last statement. Before the mare could work up enough saliva to try and talk again, though, she heard the sound of a door bursting open, and another pony swept into the room on a breeze smelling of fresh apple blossoms and patchouli. 

"She's awake?" demanded a new voice that she identified as Fluttershy. "Oh my, she is awake! This is wonderful!" Fluttershy swooped in close to what Applejack had now come to identify as her hospital bed. "Don't try to move. Don't try to speak. Well, maybe you can move your eyelids. Blink twice if you are okay."

"She kin talk," said Apple Bloom dryly, "she said mah name earlier."

"Apple Bloom," whispered the yellow pegasus, "your sister needs to rest."

"She's been doin' nothing' but rest," protested the filly.

"But the doctor said she mustn't stress herself," said Fluttershy insistently. "Oh! The doctor wanted to know if she woke up."

"On it," said Apple Bloom. Applejack heard the sound of small hooves scrambling away on the hard floor. The mare tried turning her head again, and succeeded on her second attempt. When she did so, she saw that Fluttershy was hovering by her bed. The yellow pegasus had her hooves on her hips and was watching Applejack's baby sister dash out the door.

Fluttershy heard the movement and quickly turned around again. Applejack was astonished at the other mare's condition when she got a look at her face. The yellow pony's eyes were dark-rimmed, bloodshot and sunken as if she had not slept for a week.

"Ya ... look ... like ... heck," said Applejack. Each word took a force of will to produce, and when she was done she felt much worse for having said them. It was not that the effort of speaking had taken a lot out of her; rather it was the affect the words had on her friend.

"Oh dear, do I?" Fluttershy looked horrified and held up her hooves in front of her face. "I'm sorry," she said timidly. "I haven't slept very well since your horrible, awful accident and I must look a sight!" The pegasus swooped down, landed beside Applejack's bed and lowered herself so that Applejack could only see the pink of her mane. "I'll just lower myself down here so that I don't put any stress on you with my sickly looks."

"It's fine," said Applejack. She was finding it easier to speak with each word she forced out. She tried to reach out a hoof to pat the other pony gently on the head, but she quickly discovered that her limbs appeared to be bound up in bandages, casts, and pulleys. She tugged a bit harder and frowned when she was stymied. "What's this about an accident?"

"Eep," said Fluttershy in distress. "I wasn't supposed to say anything about that yet. Twilight said to be positive!"

"Twilight's here?" said Applejack in surprise. "Is everypony here?"

"Twilight is at home now," said Fluttershy. She popped her head back up again so that she could talk with the invalid more directly. "The poor thing was falling asleep on her feet, but she refused to leave your side." She made a lateral hoof-punching motion with her right hoof. "I had to put my hoof down. I told her to go home and get some sleep." The pegasus sat entirely upright again and massaged her face with her hooves, saying, "Positive, Fluttershy, be positive!" She drew a deep breath and broke out into a broad, forced, unconvincing smile. "Applejack, it's wonderful to see you looking so well! You'll be up and on your remaining feet in no time!"

"Mah remaining what now?!"

"Oops! I mean, all of your feet that you have! We'll have you up on them in no time," said Fluttershy quickly, but her eyes were darting left and right as if she were looking for some shadows to meld into.

Applejack tugged and pulled on her restraints, trying to lift her head enough to get a look at her legs. "What the hay is this about a missin' leg," she demanded.

"Goldang it, Fluttershy, can't we leave ya alone in here for thirty seconds without ya blabbin' about her missing legs?" Granny Smith was speed-walking into the room as quickly as her walker would allow, but she paused to shake a hoof at the poor pegasus.

"LEGS?! With an S?"

"Well, one's only a foot," offered Fluttershy helpfully. "So that's something good, right?"

"Somethin' good, you say," squawked Applejack in alarm. "Y'er not the one missin' half of y'er limbs!"

"Almost half," interjected Fluttershy helpfully. "Twilight said to stay positive!"

Applejack started straining on the restraints again. "What in the hay happened? Why am ah here, and why can't ah remember none of it?"

"The doctor said your memories might be a bit hazy because of all the medicines," said Fluttershy. "Wait, do you remember all of our names? Can you tell me what year it is? Who's the Assistant Minister of Ponyville Agri-Resources?" Applejack tried to interject, but the pegasus didn't seem inclined to pause for breath. "Oh dear, I think maybe she's forgotten everything!"

"The Assistant Minister is Dew Brighthoof," said Applejack, shouting over the flustered Fluttershy. The room went dead. "Don't ask me how ah know that." The bedridden pony would have shrugged if the straps had allowed it. "Anyway, will one of ya tell me why ah'm all tied up in a hospital bed?"

"It was that confangled cider squeazin' machine," said Granny Smith, turning to spit on the floor.

"Granny," admonished Big Mac.

"I warned y'er pa about them machines years ago, and now lookit yer sis!"

"Ah don't remember buyin' no machine," said Applejack as she struggled to sit up. "It ain't that Ah don't believe y'all, but could y'all at least tell me which legs are missing?"

"One's only a foot," pointed out Fluttershy.

"Stop struggling," ordered a new voice. Applejack relaxed and peered past Fluttershy where she saw a doctor standing in the doorway. "I told them they needed to try and keep you calm." He held a hoof over his eyes and shook his head. "Are you trying to pop all of your stiches and let your organs fall out?"

"Doc, Ah will stop as soon as Ah get a chance to count all of mah limbs," said Applejack angrily. She paused. "Wait, what's this about organs fallin' out?"

The doctor turned his head and called over his shoulder. "Nurse Redheart, we need a sedative in here. Now."

"Ah don't need no sedative!" Applejack tugged on her restraints again as the room erupted into chaos. "Ah just wanna see what legs are missin'!"

"One's only a foot!"

"It was that confounded machine!"

"Nurse! Sedative! Now!"

"Why can't Ah feel mah left leg? Is that one of 'em?"

"And your right back foot, but it's only the foot."

"Can I have her boots?"

The room went dead again.

"Really, Apple Bloom..." snapped Applejack as her little sister blushed and shrunk back a bit. 

"Ah mean, Ah hope ya get better, but ya ain't gonna be needin' 'em all now, are ya?" said Apple Bloom. The orange pony opened her mouth for a retort, and then shut it again. Her little sister had a point.

Applejack next turned her attention to Fluttershy. "And Ah know ya mean well Fluttershy, but if ya say, 'one is only a foot' one more time..." 

"I'm sorry," squeaked Fluttershy. She shrunk meekly back and hunkered next to Apple Bloom.

"I'm here with the sedative, Doctor," said Nurse Redheart as she entered from the hall. The white pony cantered into the room with (what looked to Applejack) the largest syringe ever created.

"Excellent," said the doctor. He turned to the pony in the bed. "We'll just give you a little shot of this mild tranquilizer to help you settle down a bit."

Applejack found herself unable to tear her eyes from the needle. "It's all right," she said in the calmest tone she could muster. "See? Calm as a newborn lamb, now. Yup, the epitome of Zen. Don't need no needles here."

"Oh, nonsense," said the doctor. "The dose has all been measured out, and it will make you feel a thousand percent better." He stepped up and rested his hooves gently on the orange mare's side. "Big Mac, help me roll her over so that we can give her a shot in the flank."

"Eyup," said Big Mac as he moved in to lend a hoof.

Applejack cranked her head around to see the nurse approaching with the horrendously large needle. "No, seriously, that there is the biggest pig-sticker ah ever seen in mah life! If y'er lookin' for something' to calm me, that ain't it!"

"Juuuuust a little prick," said Nurse Redheart. "You'll hardly feel it."

"Ah already feel it, and you ain't even stuck me with it yet!" Applejack fought and thrashed against the restraints as the nurse loomed closer with the syringe. "No! No no no nonono!" wailed the orange mare as she twisted and fought. "LUNA! If this is another of y'er dreams then I want out!"

The nurse reared up over her. "It will all be over soon," she said kindly, holding up the needle. Applejack saw a drip forming on the end of the syringe as if it were salivating in anticipation.

"LUNA!"

Applejack shut her eyes tight and waited for the inevitable.

And she waited.

When she finally dared to open an eye again, she found herself in her own bed.

Again.