“I need to hit something.”
Applejack struggled to find a word--any word--but only ended up looking like a useless guppy gasping for air.
The chilly night air blew over Rainbow Dash, and she fluffed her wings up in defense. She didn’t do that sort of thing, Applejack thought; on a normal day, Rainbow wouldn’t be caught dead showing any sign of weakness. Not even to the cold.
“Uh--”
“AJ.” Rainbow grit her teeth as the wind blew through her once more. “I gotta hit something.”
Applejack swallowed. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“Applejack!” Rainbow stomped her hoof on the porch, and it echoed through the crawlspace with a hollow thud.
She looked tired, Applejack thought. And small.
Applejack closed her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, alright.”
Rainbow didn’t reply. She snorted heavily, and a plume of steam billowed up from her snout.
Applejack looked back over her shoulder into her darkened house, willing the warmth of her bed to follow her into the frigid orchard. After a moment’s hesitation and a muttered swear, she stepped out onto the porch and shut the door behind her.
Rainbow did not relax in the least. She turned sharply around and, with a flick of her tail, set off down the steps at a trot.
Though she was still groggy--and more than a little confused--Applejack shook off her fog and followed her friend out into the night.
The pair moved silently through the artificial forest. There was hardly a sound beyond the rustling of the leaves and the thudding of their hooves on the cold, packed dirt. Applejack found that she only grew colder by the minute, but the cloud of frustrated steam around Rainbow only seemed to be growing.
Applejack watched her friend carefully. She liked to think she knew Rainbow better than most, and the way she held her head so low--like a beast on the prowl, or a soldier on a reconnaissance mission--was entirely foreign. Her breath was unsteady, too; Applejack could see evidence of little hitches and gasps in the cloud of fog which rose from her face.
She didn’t say anything, though. Her mind had frozen solid, and even her ears ached with the chill.
The barn, familiar as it was during the day, was a dark and imposing shape in the night. Rainbow didn’t seem to notice-- she merely stopped in front of the doors and waited patiently for Applejack to open them. Well, maybe ‘patiently’ was the wrong word… there was a tangible anxiety to the way she stood, head flicking back and forth like a songbird, hooves shuffling in the dirt. But she didn’t complain. At least not out loud.
Applejack sighed to herself and gave the door a strong tug.
A wave of must and straw washed over the mares as the barn opened up. Rainbow didn’t wait even one second to take it in, instead trotting right past Applejack and into the darkness of the old building.
“Alright, what can I hit?” she asked. Her voice was strained, oddly weak.
Applejack pointed to the straw bales in the back. “Back there,” she said. “Just don’t leave me a mess in the morning, alright?”
Chilled to the very bone and beginning to fear her good night’s sleep was shot, Applejack turned to go.
Rainbow, however, stopped in her tracks. “You’re going back to bed?”
Applejack paused, one hoof on the doorframe. “Yeah?” she said out into the night.
Rainbow shuffled. The light sounds of her hooves scuffing against the packed earth caused Applejack to twitch an ear. “Uh, I…” She swallowed hard. “Well, I…”
“Ugh,” Applejack scoffed, turning back to face her friend. “Spit it out, Dash.”
“Would you stay?” Rainbow blurted out.
She looked almost instantly regretful, her insecurities on display.
Applejack’s face hardened.
Rainbow looked down at her hooves. “I just… I don’t really wanna be alone right now.”
She still looked small. Smaller, really. In fact, she looked weaker and smaller and more wounded than Applejack had ever seen. Her wings drooped at her sides, limp and useless. Her normally strong stance was missing, replaced with a withering and feeble tangle of limbs. Her eyes were wide as dinner plates and shimmering with something Applejack couldn’t yet recognize.
Applejack sighed. She didn’t say anything, just trotted into the barn and pulled the door closed behind her.
Rainbow didn’t say anything, either. She nearly did, but bit her tongue as Applejack breezed past her.
It was dark, but not so dark you couldn’t see. After a moment, Applejack’s eyes adjusted, and the moonlight through the cracks in the boards lit up a rather comfortable-looking pile of loose straw. She made her way towards it, tested the plushness with one hoof, and flopped heavily down into it.
After kicking a few stray bits of straw around to make herself comfortable, Applejack looked up at Rainbow.
She was standing in front of the stacked bales of straw. They had some height on her, and almost seemed to be towering over her like a living opponent.
Rainbow glared at the bale, eye-level, and made no move to actually throw a punch for several long moments.
Applejack cleared her throat. “It ain’t gonna make the first move, Dash.”
“I know!” Rainbow spit back, more flustered than annoyed. Then, under her breath, she added a much smaller “I know…”
Sensing the pressure an audience brings, Rainbow squared up against the straw. She shifted her weight from side to side, flaring her wings and awkwardly rocking from hoof to hoof.
At long last, Rainbow threw a punch at the straw bale, and it rewarded her with a satisfying whaff.
She pricked her ears at the sound, and a strange look came over her.
She jabbed at the bale again.
Whaff.
Rainbow cast a quick inquisitive glance at Applejack.
Applejack waved graciously towards the bale.
Rainbow nodded tersely and took her offensive stance once more. She punched at the straw bale a few more times, carefully considering its structure and response, before she really started to wale on it.
Whaff.
“Ugh!”
Whaff.
Each new blow was accompanied by a louder sound from Rainbow, but the sound of the straw never changed.
Whaff.
“Guh!”
Whaff.
Though she tried to appear sportsmarelike in her form, Rainbow hardly seemed to be simulating a real fight. She did not bob or weave, did not punch creatively, and did not appear to be doing this purely for the exercise. No, this was all about damage; Rainbow was clearly envisioning her target in the straw, her grimace deepening and her scowl hardening.
Whaff.
“Bucking son of a--”
Whaff.
“So.” Applejack ran her hoof over the straw beside her, admiring the way it held her warmth so close. “You gonna tell me what happened?”
Whaff.
Rainbow shrugged. It was as lifeless as it was meaningless. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She was already sounding more than a little breathless, too.
Applejack scoffed. “That’s funny,” she spat. “Tell me another.”
Whaff.
“Nothing happened.”
“So you just up and decided to beat the daylights out of somethin’?” Applejack asked, arching an eyebrow at her friend. “And woke me up out of a sound sleep to do it?”
Whaff.
“Uh.” Rainbow made a face, though what exactly that face meant was obscured by the shadows. “Yeah?”
Whaff.
“You lyin’?”
Whaff.
“No.”
Applejack clucked her tongue. “You are, too.”
“Am not!”
Whaff.
“You’re really lyin’ t’me?” Applejack laughed, a dry and humorless sound. “Really?”
Whaff.
“I’m not lying!” Rainbow argued, though the pitch of her voice would say otherwise. “Nothing happened, I just--”
“You just what?”
“Ugh!” Rainbow threw another punch. “None of your business, AJ!”
Whaff.
“My straw, though.”
Whaff.
“My barn, too.”
Whaff.
“Not to mention my beauty sleep.”
Rainbow growled softly to herself, but only punched the bale again.
Whaff.
Applejack sighed. “Fine. If you ain’t gonna tell me, then I’m goin’ t’bed. It’s cold.”
She made to get up, drawing out the motion as much as possible while still managing to look natural about it. Applejack may not have been psychic, but she sure was good at calling a friend’s bluff.
Especially Rainbow.
Predictably, Rainbow hesitated on her next punch. Her hoof dropped, as did her ears, and she looked at Applejack with all the subtlety of a hurt puppy. “W-wait.”
Applejack arched her eyebrows expectantly.
Rainbow pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, clearly mulling over her options.
“Well?’ Applejack prompted.
“I…” Rainbow took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and looked at her friend. “I gotta punch this thing, like, a bazillion more times before I talk about this.”
Applejack scowled. “Why’s that?”
Rainbow threw her head back and let out a low, guttural groan-- something akin to a primal scream, but more earth-quaking than earth-shattering. “Because! If I don’t, I’m gonna say something I shouldn’t.”
“Oh,” was all Applejack could think to say.
“Will you let me do my thing?’ Rainbow asked, exasperated.
“Uh.” Applejack gave a weak half-shrug. “Sure.”
“Thanks,” Rainbow spat back.
Whaff.
Applejack sat back down in the straw. It was starting to stick uncomfortably to her rump, and she once again wished she had stayed in bed.
Whaff.
Well, not exactly.
Whaff.
Applejack watched as Rainbow continued to throw punch after punch at the straw. As she moved, her face occasionally passed through the shafts of moonlight, and Applejack caught bits and pieces of the look she wore. Her brows were furrowed and low. Her eyes were focused. Her lips vanished into the rest of her face as her mouth became nothing but a thin, taught line.
Whaff.
Whaff.
It wasn’t exactly the most heroic thing Applejack had ever seen. The longer her battle wore on, the more Rainbow seemed to deflate. Her good form devolved into something much more emotionally-charged, and her stony scowl seemed to waver.
Whaff.
There was something about the way Rainbow had to hunch, the way her punches were so awkward and forced, the way her wings flared erratically… it wasn’t athletic. It wasn’t powerful. It was just raw. And frail. And tired.
Whaff.
“Hey, uh--”
“What, AJ?” Rainbow snapped.
Applejack held up her hooves in defense. “Nothin’. Nothin’.”
Whaff.
“It’s just--” Applejack stopped herself once more, unsure if she should continue. “Well, you might have more luck buckin’.”
Rainbow paused. “What?”
“Y’know. Kickin’ it,” Applejack said. She chuckled a little in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. “Might tire you out a little faster.”
“I’m not a dog!” Rainbow argued.
“I know it,” Applejack said, nodding along. “I just meant… well, I dunno. Never mind.”
Applejack looked down at her folded hooves.
Rainbow wound up for another punch. She raised her hoof, quaking in anticipation, another grunt of anger forming at the back of her tongue… but couldn’t bring herself to do it. With a light sigh, she lowered her hoof, and looked at Applejack.
Applejack tried not to notice. She busied herself with one stubborn piece of straw which had attached itself to her dry fur.
Rainbow bit her tongue, choosing not to acknowledge Applejack’s advice and merely take it in silence.
She turned around, looking over her shoulder at the patch of straw illuminated by the light of the moon. She crouched and gave the straw a hearty kick with one hoof.
Wumph.
She pricked her ears. That same look came over her, one of satisfaction and curiosity, and she dropped into a stronger crouch.
Applejack smiled to herself.
Wumph.
She wiggled her rump a bit, feeling the muscle in each leg, testing them in turn.
Wumph.
Wumph.
After some time, Rainbow’s grunting returned. These sounds, however, felt louder, angrier, and more energized.
Wumph.
“Gyah!”
Wumph.
They filled the barn with something… heavy. Or maybe they just turned the air in here sour.
As Rainbow’s facade began to crack, Applejack found the anger rubbing off on her. She didn’t even know who or what she was angry at; but she could feel it, cold and slimy in the pit of her stomach.
Wumph.
Rainbow growled. Powerfully.
Wumph.
With a few single kicks under her belt, Rainbow added in her other hoof, and each strike became a full-body effort.
Wumph.
Wumph.
Wumph.
Her kicking was actually starting to get out of control, now.
Wumph.
Wumph.
Wumph.
“Hey, Rainbow?” Applejack murmured, getting to her hooves. “You wanna--”
Wumph.
Wumph.
“You wanna slow down, there?” Applejack asked, reaching out for her friend.
Wumph.
Wumph.
“Rainbow, c’mon,” Applejack said, stern.
Wumph.
“Rainbow!” Applejack snapped.
It was the final straw.
With one last, true scream, Rainbow kicked with everything she had. The straw went flying towards the back wall of the barn.
Applejack jumped at the sudden power and watched as the bale made contact.
Wumph.
Rainbow only stood there.
Her breathing was hitching again. It was an odd, unsettling, hiccuping sound that filled the barn. Her wings were completely limp, hanging at her sides with all the strength of a used tissue. Her head, too, was bowed towards the ground, loose mane drooped over her face.
Applejack once again found herself pumping her lips like a trout. “I--” she managed to splutter, hoof hovering shakily over her friend’s withers. “Rainbow, I--”
She collapsed.
Applejack didn’t waste a second, didn’t ask permission, and didn’t consider the consequences. She dropped to the ground beside Rainbow wrapped her in a tight embrace, though she quickly found herself tangled in the mess of unsteady limbs which shivered against the dirt floor.
It felt as weak and awkward as Rainbow looked.
Rainbow was crying. Applejack had never seen Rainbow cry at all, and this was crying. Not some dainty or hidden thing, not the sort of misty-cry you get when somepony gives you a nice birthday card. All-out, gut-wrenching sobbing. The kind with snot.
“Rainbow, I--” Applejack stuttered a moment. “What in tarnation’s goin’ on?”
Rainbow couldn’t answer through the tears.
“Do I gotta beat somepony up?” Applejack asked darkly.
A different sound escaped Rainbow. It may have been a laugh, but it was hard to tell.
Applejack sighed, a bit more anger sneaking in. “For pony’s sake! You come here in the middle of the night, askin’ for somethin’ to hit, and now--” Applejack growled. “I could smack you, Rainbow Dash. I really could.”
Another strained sound. It may have also been a laugh.
“Now you tell me what’s goin’ on right now, or I swear to--”
“Spitfire dumped me,” Rainbow said.
Applejack’s words caught in her throat.
Rainbow sniffled, a disgusting, phlegm-y sound. “That sounds so lame when I say it out loud.”
Applejack blinked. “I… you were datin’?”
Rainbow laughed. This time, for sure. “Only you wouldn’t notice.”
Applejack clucked her tongue. “Now what in Tartarus is that supposed to mean?”
Rainbow kept chuckling, weak as it sounded. “Ah, nothin’.”
“No, you tell me what you meant,” Applejack ordered. “You were teasin’ me!”
Rainbow’s laughter was turning to a childish sort of snicker. “You can just be sorta dense sometimes!”
Applejack shoved Rainbow off her lap. “Well, so can you!”
“Nuh-uh!” Rainbow retorted, hooves on her stomach as she snickered.
“Yuh-huh!” Applejack shot back. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she was starting to chuckle, too.
Rainbow didn’t say anything more. She just laid on her back, hooves on her stomach, giggling like a filly. It didn’t take long before Applejack couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she began to laugh loud and full. The sounds filled up the barn, each feeding into the other until it was an utter frenzy, until Applejack rolled onto her back and clutched her stomach, until Rainbow was gasping for breath.
And then, like everything else, it petered out to nothing.
As quickly as it had been filled, the barn emptied itself of the laughter, of the nervous energy… even the memory of that straw being beat to death was fading away.
“Yeah, well.” Applejack sighed. “Spitfire’s a real jerk.”
Rainbow sighed, too. “I dunno,” she said, wiping one hoof across her snout in an effort to clear away the snot. “She’s cool.”
Applejack scoffed. “Yeah, right. Don’t forget arrogant, abrasive, full-of-herself--”
“I know, I know!” Rainbow covered her eyes with her hooves. She moaned softly into her fetlocks, then allowed her legs to fall back into the dirt. “I know. I do. It’s just… I dunno, it’s weird.”
Applejack rolled her head to the side and scowled at Rainbow. “What’s weird?”
Rainbow was staring at the roof. Or… perhaps staring through the roof was more accurate. She had her hooves folded over her stomach, and the rose and fell with her breathing (which hadn’t steadied itself completely just yet). She didn’t say anything.
Applejack tried to say something else, but the words stuck in her throat. She gave up.
There was a cricket nearby. It was chirping slowly, as they tend to in the cold, and Applejack’s ears searched for the source of the lazy tune. It did well to distract her from the growing heat in her cheeks, as the intimacy of the situation became more apparent.
Her skillset--or lackthereof--for dealing with it was also becoming more obvious.
Eventually, the cricket stopped.
Applejack sighed, her distraction gone. “Why didn’t you just say so?” she asked.
“Say what?” Rainbow asked.
“Y’know, that you’d… that she’d…” For some reason, she couldn’t quite say. “Whatever. Why’d I have to drag it outta you?”
Rainbow shrugged, as easily as when one when they’re laying on their back in the dirt. “I dunno. I guess I just… I know the kind of stuff you say. I didn’t really need you to say it, y’know?”
“Oh, yeah?” Applejack probed carefully. “And what kinds of things do I usually say?”
“Ugh. For one thing, you always give me the third degree,” Rainbow complained. Applejack chuckled with pride. “Plus… you get mad.”
“Mad?!” Applejack asked incredulously.
“Not at me!” Rainbow corrected. “N-not at any of us. Just at the ponies who…”
“Who hurt you?” Applejack finished for her. “You’re darn right, I get mad!”
Rainbow lolled her head over in the dirt, giving Applejack a pointed look of exasperation.
“Tsk.” Applejack mirrored the grimace as best she could. “What, are you sayin’ you’re not mad?”
Rainbow’s look turned icy. “It literally just happened, AJ. What do you want me to say?” She crossed her forelegs over her chest. “That I hate her? That I think she’s a bully and a jerk who let the power go to her head?”
Applejack hesitated. “Well… yeah!”
Rainbow grumbled something.
Applejack refused to fill the silence.
The wind picked up a bit, blowing over the barn with a whistling howl. The sound alone made Applejack shiver.
“I really liked her,” Rainbow murmured.
Applejack coughed. “Okay… so?”
“So?!” Rainbow repeated. “So I can’t just start hating her! It’s not a switch I can just turn on!” she shouted.
The sound echoed through the empty barn.
Rainbow moaned softly and closed her eyes tight. “I… I liked being with her.”
Applejack rolled onto her side, as softly as she could manage, and faced Rainbow.
Rainbow made no such motion. “I liked her, okay? I still do.” She opened her eyes, but only looked up through the roof. “I guess she just… didn’t really like me.”
“Huh,” Applejack said.
Rainbow kept staring, her eyes scanning over the cracks in the roof, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of starlight, but the moon washed it all out.
Applejack tugged at her mane.
“I know you don’t get it,” Rainbow said suddenly.
Applejack scoffed. “Don’t get what?”
Rainbow shrugged. “Liking somepony who doesn’t like you back.” Her eyes darted over to Applejack for a fraction of a second. Blink-and-you-miss-it. “You never care about that junk.”
And maybe that was true. As far as Applejack could think, all of her hatreds were mutual. If somepony didn’t like her, she didn’t like them, and she sure wasn’t going to expend any energy trying to change that fact.
“Uh…” Applejack tugged her mane again. “Yeah. I guess so.”
Rainbow nodded knowingly.
She was different. She wanted ponies to like her-- as many as possible. She didn’t necessarily want them to know that, but it didn’t make it any less true.
And, yet…
“But you came here,” Applejack said.
Rainbow made an odd face. “Uh. Yeah, so?”
“So. You knew what I was gonna say,” Applejack reminded her. “Right?”
“Uh-huh…”
“But you came here anyway,” Applejack repeated.
“Uh…”
“You came here anyway, because you knew I was gonna rag on Spitfire,” Applejack continued. “And you wanted me to!”
“Did not!” Though it was dark, a little bit of a flush came over Rainbow’s cheeks. “I-I just knew you had stuff to hit!”
“Sure, Dash.”
“You do!” Rainbow argued. “‘Cause you have, like, anger issues!”
“Admit it: you like the truth.”
“You didn’t even know we were together!”
“Yeah, but I know you,” Applejack said.
This stopped Rainbow dead in her tracks.
Another silence overtook the barn, this one only awkward for Rainbow. She struggled to find something to say, a few little sounds of exasperation forcing their way to the surface, but ultimately had to give up.
The cricket came back. It was chirping a little faster, now.
“Sometimes you’re too loyal for your own good,” Applejack said. “You know that?”
Rainbow sighed, though her anger was so apparent that it was nearly a growl. “I know. I know.”
Applejack chuckled knowingly. “It could be worse. This way, the only pony you end up hurting is yourself.”
“It sucks,” Rainbow hissed.
“I know,” Applejack said softly. “I know.”
The cricket kept chirping, faster and faster, until it almost sounded like summer.