//------------------------------// // The Next Step // Story: Supermare // by SpongeGuy //------------------------------// “Why did you call me up?” Filthy Rich looked around the organized and spotless office, filled with neatly ordered piles of scoops, articles and gossip pieces all over the many desks. The walls were adorned with framed headlines that had taken their newspaper, The Ponyville Gazette, to the top of the food chain. “A Princess Paralyzed.” “Grounded Pegasus” “Terror of Tirek” And right above the mare standing with his back to him there stood the headline that had sent the paper skyrocketing: “Heroes Among Us” One did not need to see the picture to know whose image was graced on it. For that mare was turning towards Filthy. “Do you know why people look up to the stars?” Filthy was surprised by the question. She wasn’t usually this… Philosophical. He scratched his chin with his hoof. “Well, outside of charting stars, I guess people look up because…” “Because they wish.” The mare waved her hoof over the framed headline, caressing the image. “They wish for more. They wish and they wish and they wish upon the stars that dance above them and what do they receive?” She began to pace away from the picture and towards Filthy. “They receive poverty when they ask for riches, they get hate when they plead for love, and when they beg for peace, tragedy strikes it’s hardest. But they never stop wishing.” She smirked as she gazed at him, as the sounds of bicycles riding off and construction on the building amplified. “For the one thing ponies desire most are…” Spoiled Rich’s eyes danced in flames. “…Heroes.” Filthy rolled his eyes. “I told you, she would never accept an interview! I asked too many times already!”. He walked over to the guest seat, as Spoiled sat behind the desk and sighed. “Darling, you say that as if the other interviews were pieces of cake.” “Compared to this, they were!”, Filthy retorted, trying not to lose his temper. “Twilight Sparkle was always going to reassure the people of Ponyville, but Applejack does not operate like that!” “You’re like family to her.” “WE are like family to her. And family doesn’t just force such things on each other. She needs time to heal…”, Filthy started, and Spoiled interrupted him. “Filthy, it’s been 6 months. You and I know very well she’s repressing. By letting her speak her pain, you will be allowing her to heal, don’t you see?”, Spoiled explained, sympathy seemingly oozing from her words. Filthy hesitated. Spoiled was making a good point, but… “I don’t know. I… I don’t want to push her.” “You’re smart. You’ll think of something. And remember, this isn’t for us. It’s for the people of Ponyville.” Filthy looked out the window, the destruction still evident. So many houses had been destroyed. The roads still carried gaping holes. And the ponies who weren’t dead were… “They need heroes, dear. They need inspiration. She survived. She could light up the hope in their hearts.”, Spoiled stated, and Filthy couldn’t help but agree. “I promised.”, he breathed, fighting a tear away. “All right…”, he finally said, turning around. “I’ll ask her.” Spoiled barely suppressed her grin. She sighed contently. “Thank you, darling. Now get to it!” As Filthy left to his assignment, Spoiled closed her eyes and she could hear it again. The cheers. The tears. The ponies surrounding her in awe, with gratitude. When she had rushed out at the forefront of the chaos, she was more than just a pony. More than just a mare. When she was out there, she had been like a god among mares. “Soon, my children. Soon, you will have a hero.” She stared out at her kingdom. And she was pleased. “Are the kids asleep?” The young filly’s ear twitched from her hiding spot on the stairs. “They should be. Macintosh goes out like a wink, but Applejack…” Pear Butter stopped talking suddenly, and Bright Mac placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You think we’re treating her wrong?”, she asked, as she sat down on the bed, and Bright Mac shook his head. “I know that they would be pleased. We have done our best to keep her safe. That’s what they wanted more than anything.” “They?”, Applejack, small and barely noticeable, trying to hide in the shadows but illuminated by the roof lamp, wrinkled her nose at that statement. Her parents conversations always seemed to include this mysterious “they”. Applejack often wondered if the "they" were referring to Princess Celestia. She wondered if they thought she was a good filly. Was she working hard enough? Maybe that’s why her parents were worried about “they”. “And besides, we love her. She knows that.”, Bright Mac added, and Pear Butter gulped. “I hope she does, Bright. Cause one day she might… She might think that…” “No. Pear, you know that’s not true. She’s an Apple. Apples are never alone.” Applejack smiled at that. She had no doubt in the love her parents held for her, but reassurance was always pleasant. She was so giddy she didn’t notice she was floating slightly off the ground, her tail wagging. “All right. I guess I should worry about something else anyway.” Bright sighed and held her in his hooves. “I… Maybe if I train him Mac could help us, we could get a little more…” “No. Honey, we just need to accept it. This year we’re gonna have a hard winter.” Applejack’s eyes widened at this. A hard winter? Since when? Sweet Apple Acres was the most successful farm in all of Ponyville! “We could always ask Filthy, he would never leave us hanging.” “And we don’t take charity. That stallion would buy you a city, I’d still say no.” “Yeah, so would I.”, Bright smiled, finding it all rather funny. “How stubborn we all are. Wonder if that will rub off on Applejack.” “I hope not!”, Pear laughed. “Celestia knows we could use someone more flexible!” Applejack frowned. Why a hard winter? Was harvest truly going that bad? She wished they would resume their conversation, find a solution, but they seemed… Just ok with it? It didn’t make sense. Applejack may have been a small filly, but she wasn’t a dumb one. The farm wasn’t just providing for her family, but also for others! All across Ponyville, families, business’, the less fortunate, they all got help from the farm. Applejack floated around in thought, remembering farmer’s market days that summer. They didn’t sell much, but every customer left with a smile on their face, and hope in their hearts. Hope. “It would take a miracle to save this winter.” Applejack couldn’t bare to hear more of that doom talk. She silently floated outside the door, finding herself in the orchard. The cold breeze hit her mane, and she giggled as it tickled. She liked the feeling of the sky, and how she could dance on it if she wanted to. She liked how the stars were closer and how she could almost touch them. And she loved how the trees that gave her so much were now staring right at her, their leaves like a warm blanket. Applejack looked down at the orchard and felt a frown on her face. There were so many apples to pick, so many gifts to give, but the family didn’t have enough help, enough strength to get them through. …Or maybe they did. Applejack grinned when the idea hit her, but then she hesitated. No one really knew that she could do things other earth ponies couldn’t. And she WAS doing it behind her parents backs... But she quickly shrugged it off and whistled quietly while she worked, zooming around the farm. It felt like she was making a surprise present, and the morning would be like a birthday. The work would be hard, true, and she was tired and wanted her blankey, but this was more important! So many people needed this. Her family, who had given her so much, needed this. “An Apple always gives, Sugarcube. We receive so many wonderful gifts from the sky above, and we don’t need to much. So we give to those who could use it. Why else do we have this earth, if not to share the treasures we find?” Dad said that a lot. Applejack felt like she finally got it. The next morning, Applejack was so excited she nearly flew in to her parents room, but instead she chose to jump on the bed. “Ma! Pa! Wake up!” Bright Mac laughed and Pear Butter rubbed her sleepy eyes. “Applejack, honey, isn’t it a little early, even fer us?” Applejack’s excitement could barely be contained, she felt like she could burst like a balloon. She bounced and bounced and bounced, nodding her head aggressively. “Nope! Ya gotta go outside! I have a surprise fer yall!” On that note, Bright Mac and Pear Butter exchanged odd glances, before shrugging and getting out of bed. Applejack ran so fast outside it almost seemed like she was running faster than a galloping stallion. Bright Mac and Pear Butter didn’t know what to expect at first, but when they opened the door, their mouths were agape. Their eyes widened and they could barely formulate a thought. Applejack, not noticing she was flying in the sky from excitement, presented her surprise. And it was once heck of a surprise. Every single apple in the orchard had been picked. Every. Single. One. Bushels and bushels, more than thought possible, more than Bright Mac and Pear Butter has seen their entire lives stood in that garden. And Applejack flashed her brightest smile as she awaited their happiness. But instead, Bright Mac and Pear Butter pulled her back into the barn and locked their room’s door. Applejack was startled, and her face reacted with dumbfoundedness. “Ma? Pa? What’re ya doin’?” Bright Mac made sure no one could see them from the window, and Pear Butter sat down on the bed and tried to calm down. Bright Mac was already crying too, and Applejack felt like she could burst into tears too. “Was… Was mah surprise not good enough?”, she asked, lips trembling. She must have done something wrong… She must have cheated or somethin’… “No, no, sugarcube!”, Pear Butter reassured, but she and Bright Mac exchanged serious glances. They gulped and nodded, knowing what they had to do. For the most part. “Applejack… These… Well… Your abilities?”, Bright Mac started, and Applejack gasped. They knew? “Are they bad? I was only tryin’ to help!”, Applejack pleaded, but her parents again calmed her down. “You didn’t do anythin’, pumpkin. We’re just… Well, you see… Your abilities are dangerous. We’re worried that you might, well, you might hurt yourself.”, Pear Butter tried explaining. The two parents looked anxious. They knew why they were. Applejack’s… Biological parents, their message stated Applejack could help this planet. And they didn’t want her to not help. They just wanted her to be careful. “Can you do that?” Applejack bit her lip, but she nodded. “…I can. I… I will. That’s a promise.” And it seemed at first like that would be good enough. Applejack still used her powers sometimes, but she made sure to be careful. She had such plans for what she could do with them, once she put in a little elbow grease to sharpen them. She didn’t even mind it made her different. But she had not accounted for fear. She had not accounted for what could go wrong. And as so often does, things went wrong. The funeral was quiet. Private. It’s how they would have wanted it. The procession later was also small, and familial. The living room was housing a gathering of the Apple’s, and only close family friends were allowed. “Filthy. I’m… Thanks fer comin’.”, Granny Smith said, struggling to look up from under her black hat. Filthy merely nodded. “Of course. I… I am so sorry for your loss. I wish there was something I could do.” Granny Smith permitted herself a chuckle. “Sadly, this is one of the things yer fortune can’t help with. But I appreciate the thought.” Filthy stepped in and respectfully glanced at the rest of the grieving family. The farm house, usually so full of color and life, now stood in silence. Couches and chairs were filled with aging stallions and mares discussing the two loving parents over apple pie and fresh cider. Candles lit the dim sky, and the wind blew in lightly. “Solemn. Yet warm. They would have loved it.”, Filthy observed, and Granny Smith had to agree. “How true. Will you take a seat?” “Thank you. I… Spoiled couldn’t make it, I’m afraid.” Granny Smith patted his shoulder to show she didn’t mind, and Filthy took a seat, closing his eyes in silence. “Bright Mac…”, he whispered, wishing he could say more, but struggling to find the words. For him, life had always come easy. But Bright Mac had to work hard for everything, even the love of his life. Filthy gazed at the assembly of kindred hearts and couldn’t help but wish it had been him. But a questions soon rose to his mind as Big Mac came in with baby Applebloom in his hooves. “…Where’s Applejack? Is she… Is she all right?” Granny Smith shook her head this time. “’Fraid not. That girl is… Well, she’s taking it harder than the rest of us.” “I can’t begin to imagine. She was right there.”, Filthy replied, and he shivered. “…I think I’ll go check on her. Can you keep an eye on Applebloom too?”, Granny Smith asked, and Filthy immediately accepted. Trotting down the hall, Granny Smith peeped into the rooms, but in her heart she knew where Applejack was. A sharp knock on the door, as was customary with her, before she slowed down and let out two softer knocks. “Dearie, are you in there?” “Leave me alone, Granny.” Granny Smith sighed. She should have expected this. Applejack was as stubborn as a mule. As stubborn as her parents… “Applejack, I made pie. You don’t want Big Mac to eat it all up, now do ya?”, she half joked, hoping food could entice her granddaughter out. No response. “Is this the “teen angst” they keep talkin’ about?”, she half joked once more, but she was getting concerned. Applejack never acted like this. No response. Sighing, she finally opened the door with no approval, determined to solve this. “Ah don’t want guests.”, Applejack muttered. She was sitting on her parents bed, her back to Granny Smith. The room was totally dark, and it was clear from Applejack’s voice that she had been crying for hours. “But there are guest who want you. Your parents would want you to be there.” “How can they want anything? They’re gone.”, Applejack replied darkly, and Granny Smith glanced at her sympathetically. “I know they wouldn’t want you in here. Even when they are gone.” Applejack hated to agree, but it was true. She let out a sob. Granny Smith drew closer, placing a hand on Applejack’s shoulder. “It would be better for you to share your pain with us. Don’t just carry it alone. We can talk all about it over there, you don’t have to be alone.” Applejack wasn’t so sure. Applejack wasn’t so sure she didn’t deserve to be alone. Granny Smith tried once more, but she tried perhaps too hard. “I… I know how ya feel…” “No.”, Applejack said sharply, and Granny Smith blinked in surprise. “What do ya mean?”, Granny Smith asked, and Applejack began to breath heavier and heavier, her back arching, her eyes burning with tears. “What ah mean is ya don’t know how ah feel! You never could know what it’s like!” Granny Smith didn’t change her tone, knowing she’d have to approach this carefully. “I understand that this is hard on you especially cause you were there, I didn’t mean…” “No, it’s not that! It’s not that I was there! I was there, and I could have stopped it!”, Applejack suddenly shouted, and Granny Smith’s eyes widened. “What… What do you mean, sugarcube?” Applejack was practically growling now, and she shook and shivered with rage. “What I mean is that I have strange abilities, and I didn’t reach them in time! I could have saved them, but I didn’t! And now my parents, Big Mac and Applebloom’s parents, and your son and daughter in law are dead, because of ME!” “It’s not your fault.”, Granny Smith stated with complete faith. “Whatever happened, we can deal with it. Whatever abilities you have, we can deal with it. We are family. We deal with these things. Let me help you…”, she said, reaching out… But Applejack had had enough. She was so guilty, so angry, so frustrated, so depressed… Her fault… Her fault… Her fault… “I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!”, Applejack screamed, and as she turned around she pushed Granny Smith away from her, and accidentally hurtled her into the wall. Applejack, now floating, her eyes red, suddenly realized what she had done. Granny Smith could barely stand up, and, kneeling down, she felt her leg. Applejack’s x-ray vision could tell… It was broken… Applejack began to cry again, a thousand thoughts rushing past her mind. “I… I promised I wouldn’t… I promised I wouldn’t hurt anyone…” “Applejack, no! It’s…”, Granny Smith started, but Applejack refused to listen. She burst out the window, flying as hard as she could, tears descending to the ground below. She flew and flew and flew, heart pounding, heard hurting. The night sky felt so lonely and vast. She searched and finally found it. Two grave stones. For two loving ponies. Applejack didn’t need to say a word. She had broken the promise. But she would never break it again. Sobbing as she embraced the gravestones, Applejack made a silent vow. And she hadn’t broken it since… “Come on, Applejack.” The orange coated mare stared at the tall, sturdy Apple tree, and a hint of jealousy spread across her mind. Her legs tried to emulate the plant, staying strong and willed on the ground. Once it had been easy. Once bucking a tree was like breathing. A part of her day, an item off the checklist. But now the memories were back, and with them old problems she had never faced. What if she struck it too hard? Would the tree be torn from its roots and fly off? Would it crash into a nearby house? Would it hurt someone? How could she know? How much power did she really have? “No, no! I don’t wanna know! I… I don’t have any power! It’s all in mah head!”, Applejack told herself, eyes closing in fear, like she was a filly again, a scared little filly hiding under the bed from a monster. …Applejack stared down at a puddle, and feeling unease in her heart, stepped on the puddle to remove the stranger from her sight. Back to the tree it was, then. “I’m wastin’ time here.”, Applejack criticized herself, pacing around. “I… I gotta do this. The farm, Ponyville, my family… My… My…” Applejack gritted her teeth and stamped her hoof. “Stop being childish! You have work to do! You have control! Just stop yourself!” Taking a deep breath, Applejack readied herself. Planting both hooves on the ground, the wet muddy area of the farm sinking in a little, Applejack closed her eyes and focused. She had to be one with the tree, one with the ground. She had to keep back any power she had. She decided she’d kick as weakly as she could to see how hard she really had to go, and hopefully that wouldn’t be to hard too. Continuing to breath, she thought of them. “…Ma… Pa… Give me YOUR strength. I’d take it in a heartbeat.” Rearing her hind legs, she sent a small kick, and… The whole bushel fell on her, burying her in apples. “Consarn it!”, Applejack cursed, rage erupting in her heart. She had once been able to do this, what was she doing wrong? Why was she wrong? At first, she wanted to smash the tree, smash it as far as she could. But she knew that wouldn’t be ok. There was no way to release her anger, no right way… So instead she sat in the bushel of failure, in her circle of queer behavior, and she began to shed a tear. “…Some apple I turned out to be…” “I feel like your parents would disagree.” Applejack gasped, worst case scenario thoughts plaguing her mind. She turned around to see a familiar face, but not one she felt like familiarizing herself with further. “You’re really getting ahead on the harvest! I’ve never seen so many apple picked from one tree!”, Filthy commented, genuinely impressed but also killing time on purpose. “I’m sure it’s been hard since, well…” “Filthy, I’m getting’ mighty tired of sayin’ “no comment” to your newspaper. Why don’t you go on and get?”, Applejack replied with perhaps a little too much bite. Filthy was a little surprised to see such a reaction from the normally kindly earth pony, and Applejack herself knew she had gone a little too far. “(sigh)…I’m sorry, I just… I don’t want to talk to a reporter.”, Applejack explained, getting back onto her hooves and starting to load the apples into barrels. Filthy, lending in a hand with some of the apples, replied “Well… Would you like to talk to a friend?” Applejack, her back turned to Filthy, felt horrible. She didn’t want to make him feel bad, he had been a family friend for a reason, and it wasn’t just because he bought what her family was selling. “Ma and Pa cared for him, and vice versa. I can’t just shoo him away, but…” Applejack turned to Filthy and looked up to the setting sun, the grey misty skies barely revealing it. “It’s gettin’ awfully dark.” “I don’t have anywhere to go right now, Diamond Tiara is at a friend’s house.” “And Spoiled?” “Spoiled isn’t important right now. You are.” “You just want a scoop for your paper. You interviewed everyone but me. Just be honest.”, Applejack accused, getting a little impatient. She had to get this done quickly before the guilt set in and she’d feel horrible for helping her “family”, how can a non apple help the apple family… Applejack tried to resist the urge to cry, while Filthy shook his head. “Honestly? I want to know the daughter of my dear friends is ok. And how I can help her.” Applejack looked at the orchard. Most of the trees hadn’t been able to produce thanks to Tirek, and even with her “curse”, there wouldn’t be enough apples to keep the family afloat. Either way, it was her fault. Her powers couldn’t stop Tirek, make more apples, save her parents… “Damn, I wish I had a drink.”, Applejack muttered, before turning to Filthy, who kept on observing her sympathetically. She looked down at the ground, struggling to say anything. “…My fam… The Apple family could use a better farmer than me. And with how old Granny Smith is gettin’… Well, the winter might end up bein’ too cold for u… For them.” While Applejack turned around and cursed herself, Filthy turned to look at the family farm house. His house was at least three times it’s size, yet somehow the farm house felt grander. He would have jumped at the opportunity to “misplace” some cash, but he knew better. “You know, before you were born, there was a great storm, the biggest perhaps in all of Ponyville’s recorded history.”, Filthy informed her, sitting down next to Applejack, as she tried to hide her tears. Applejack nodded. “They said something about that once. The wind was like a whistling tea kettle on a sugar high, no?” Filthy laughed, and Applejack felt a small smile come to her face. It was nice to see someone smile after all those months. “Your mother had a way with words!” He made himself comfortable on the grass, his eyes shining as he recalled. “And your father had a way with wood. When that storm passed there was a solitary plank on that patch of grass you call home.” Applejack raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was news to her. “I offered my kind of help, of course. I told him I could buy him the exact same house in an instant, I could buy him a bigger house in even less time. It was an impossible job, and my friend worked his flank off every day as it was. It was the least I could do with the most that I had. But Bright Macintosh was like you.” “…How?”, Applejack asked grimly. Filthy smiled softly. “He’d go to hell and back to help a fellow, but he’d be damned if he ever asked for any. That winter, starving, carrying a broken arm, he repaired every broken house in Ponyville to the very last plank of wood. Pear Butter and Granny Smith pitched in too, and for a whole 3 months they had nothing but elbow grease and saw dust.” “But where did they live? There was no farm house!”, Applejack asked, startled but not surprised by her family’s generosity. As if she could ever match up to that. Filthy turned to her with an offered hoof. “Well, I did what I’m doin’ now: I gave my friend a lifeline. Your family lived with mine those 3 months, and after that I got down and dirty and helped rebuild the house.” “YOU?”, Applejack asked a little sassily, and Filthy laughed. “I know, I know, I’m not exactly the working type, but honest to Celestia I did. I may not be your father, Applejack, no one can be. But I know who I am. Your friend.” He slipped her a business card. “You need bits. You need them fast. I can’t just give then to you, but I can give you what I can.” Applejack shook her head and stood up, slowly trotting away. “Filthy, that’s mighty kind of ya, but I can’t do this. I’m… I don’t even know what job you’d want me for!” “It’s a simple one, I promise. We’re low on staff reporters for Ponyville, well, for stuff that doesn’t make the front page. We’re thinking of doing a series on people’s experiences after the attack. You won’t have to reveal anything, you’ll be asking the questions, not answering them.” Applejack wasn’t sure. The farm needed her, but it was true, they needed the bits. This was such a massive departure from who she was, but she couldn’t just leave her… the family starving this winter. Applebloom was barely eating as it was… Applejack stared at the farm house her father had to be convinced to rebuild. After everything she done to the Apples… It was her fault they were in this mess. And even if it wasn’t, she at least shared one similarity with her “father”: She couldn’t say no to a pony in need. She had put all of Ponyville in danger. Least she could do was save the farm and provide those poor ponies with some apple goods. The most she could do was help, so she did that at least. Turning around, taking a deep breath, Applejack vowed she would finally give something back. “…When do I start?”