Poor Ol’ Bloomberg. Even given her entire predicament, Applebloom couldn’t help but feel miserable about accidentally pulling that tree down. Ol’ Bloomberg was Big Mac and Applejack’s favorite apple tree, even after he’d lost all his leaves, and they just didn’t have the heart to get rid of him. And neither did she! It was an honest accident!
Granny Smith was in an absolute state when they rushed Applebloom to the hospital. Everyone was worried her old heart would give out, she was so furious. “Ye should’ve cut that damn tree down years ago, ya hollow-headed hayseeds!! Now look at my grandbaby…!!” Granny never swore! The shock was enough to keep Applebloom awake through the blood loss, which was probably a big reason she’d made it to the operating room alive.
The youngest Apple couldn’t bring herself to look at her legs, even as thoroughly mummified as they were, without remembering what they’d looked like after they finally managed to heave Ol’ Bloomberg off of her. For as sterile as the hospital’s general scent profile was, the stench of her own blood lingered in her nostrils. She had known before the doctors told her, before she’d been carried into the hospital, even before they got her in the truck. There was no way she was walking on those anymore.
Not that she’d ever have the ability to try; her x-rays were right there on the board not far from her bed, and they didn’t paint a pretty sight. Applebloom’s entire lower skeleton wasn't in big enough pieces to even deserve being called bones at this point, and the doctor was shocked to find out she could still kind of feel the pain. Not much, thankfully. Enough that some relatively weak painkillers could suffice.
Applebloom puffed out her butter-yellow cheeks and blew out her version of a sigh, a tic she picked up from her pink cousin. No legs meant no more climbing trees, so at least it wouldn’t be happening again. Still stinks, she thought. She struggled to turn her upper body port-side and propped herself up on her arm, even though she wasn’t supposed to. A full survey of her room was in order.
Hmm. Yup. Definitely a hospital. Everything was either a sterile shade of white or a cool blueish, only thrown into warmer relief by the dappled sunlight from the windows on the far wall. The clock on the wall opposite her said 9:06, meaning she was in the east wing, and that her family was definitely up by now. Visiting hours couldn’t come soon enough. The humming and beeping monitors created a soft cacophony that almost drowned out the buzz of the fluorescent lights, turned on by the nurse some minutes ago when she came in to check on her.
And her roommate.
You could barely tell there was a kid under all the tubes and wires that swarmed the bed on the other side of the room, especially since it seemed they had skin as white as the sheets. The sight of them was deeply unsettling. Their heart monitor was beeping away slowly, and that was the only sign that they were alive at all, let alone awake, which they apparently were. At least, they were when the nurse was here.
Applebloom vaguely remembered being carted into this room the night before, and the room hadn’t been empty then. How long had they been here, she wondered?
She weighed the worth of trying to talk to them, and shrugged her free shoulder. Better’n bein’ stuck in mah head all mornin’, Applebloom decided.
“Hey,” she spoke somewhat softer than usual. “You awake?”
The heart monitor beeped almost imperceptibly faster. There was a strangled noise emanating from the still form.
Social activity! Sort of. “Ah’d ask what happened to you, but I guess y’can’t talk right now.” Applebloom scratched awkwardly at her arm. “Ah’m just glad Ah ain’t alone in the mornin’. Prob’ly would be feelin’ pretty sorry fer mahself if you weren’t here.”
Her roommate made a noise that somewhat resembled a groan. It sounded like an annoyed one.
Applebloom chose to believe it wasn’t and continued. “Whatever it was, y’sure got messed up bad, though. Ah can’t even think of what mighta gone down to put y’all outta sorts like that.” Another moan in response. “If ya get better while Ah’m still here, you can tell me. Ah Pinkie Promise Ah won’t make fun o’ ya.” A heart was crossed, wings were flapped, and a cupcake was pressed firmly into an eyeball, all on reflex.
Only periodic beeps were received in response.
“Hopefully yer legs’ll be fine.” Applebloom chuckled. “Ah got body-slammed by a tree! Smashed mine into little bits an’ busted mah nerves. Doctor says Ah’m lucky Ah can feel anythin’ at all down there but Ah’ll be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of mah life.”
Her roommate gurgled softly and coughed weakly. Their heartbeat didn’t get all that much faster.
“Guess it coulda been way worse. Auntie Applesauce lost her whole arm back when she worked in the factory, an’ mah Uncle Cameo got shot through the spine while he was in boot camp an’ they just had t’ cut his legs clean off, ‘cus they were rottin’ off of his body.”
Applebloom could have sworn she heard the other kid say “gross”, and she giggled.
“It sure do sound gross, don’t it?” Her crimson bangs fell in front of her eyes, and as she brushed them away her gaze fell on an unusually ornate black backpack sitting next to the other occupant’s bed, resting against the leg. It didn’t have a brand; in the usual place one would find it, there was a name; embroidered, then torn by something sharp. It took Applebloom a moment to parse what the name was.
Starsong Flanks.
“Izzat yer name on that backpack?”
Applebloom was shocked to get an unambiguous answer.
“nnnNoo…”
At that, Applebloom cocked her head. “Huh. Why would…” she trailed off as she considered all the information, and decided to leave it be. “Eh.”
She looked back at the apparently nameless youth in the bed. “Well, Ah’m Applebloom. And it’s, uh, nice to meetcha. Glad to see Ah have a lucky charm.”
No-Name made a noise that sounded like a question.
“Well it’s the only explanation fer why Ah got off easy! Apples don’t usually get t’ keep the body parts they break, so…” Applebloom shifted back, with serious effort, to lying on her back. “That means there’s a lucky charm of mine in here. Only thing Ah can think of is you.”
Her lucky charm groaned.
There are many things Applebloom had, in her short life, come to love. The scent of morning dew on fresh-cut grass, the feeling of treated wood in her hand, how comfortable her big sister Applejack looked in a dress, how hilariously uncomfortable Big Macintosh looked in a dress (and how confidently he wore them anyway; he liked to practice what he preached when it came to not letting shame get you down).
Currently, none of them compared to the feeling of watching a professional wrestling show with her brother and her best friend.
“C’mon Spitfire! Reverse it, reverse it!!” She cheered for the face of the Wonder Wrestling Association with all her heart.
“Re-verse!!” Scootaloo parroted her with equal enthusiasm.
The old tube TV in the ceiling corner blared out a tinny eruption of cheers as the wrestler in question was put in a brutal submission hold by her traitorous former tag-team partner High Winds, and the paraplegic girl watching bounced as excitedly as her still-battered body would allow. This injustice would only be allowed to stand as much as she was able! The commentators were going nuts! Scootaloo was liable to bruise her own knees, she was so stimulated!
High Winds said something inaudible that seemed to break Spitfire’s spirit, and the star of the Wonderbolts tapped out, accepting defeat. The crowd roared and booed in equal volume as the bell was rung and High Winds’ theme music played, leaving Applebloom livid.
“No! Ya can’t jus’ give up!!” She collapsed into her pillow. “She don’t deserve that belt after what she just did!!”
Scootaloo was equally mad, pounding her fists on her knees. “Traitor!! Trai-tor!”
Big Macintosh was in the room with her, shaking his head in equal disappointment. Spitfire’s older sister was his favorite wrestler, so he was always rooting for them both. She couldn’t imagine how bad he felt about this.
It had been a few days since Applebloom was brought to the emergency room, but on account of it having been Tuesday then, Big Mac was the only one who could make time to visit. Applejack had school and farm-work to worry about, and so did Granny Smith. Her big brother, however, was basically always on the farm, so he’d elected to pick up Scootaloo and come and keep Applebloom company in the afternoon.
Not that Applebloom and No-Name were alone in the mornings. The latter’s mother had showed up every day thus far the moment visiting hours were open and bawled her eyes out each time, even when No-Name started being able to form sentences again yesterday. Then, in the evening, No-Name’s big sister would come in and make snide comments about Applebloom’s company that she probably thought they couldn’t hear. Said sister was presently quietly sewing something on the other end of the room, on the far side of No-Name’s bed.
Scootaloo shouted, as was her default volume. “Rematch!!”
“There better be. This just ain’t right!” Applebloom crossed her arms in a huff. “Ah ain’t ever seen somebody do somethin’ so foul!” Tears were stinging the edge of her eyes, and it upset her even more just how upset High Winds had made her. Big Mac just patted her on the head.
“‘Ain’t’ is not a word.”
At that, Big Macintosh turned to glare at the room’s other able occupant, and suddenly Applebloom’s blood ran cold. She could tell when her brother was about to say something, and outside of the acres his words for strangers were rare.
“If’n you got opinions ‘bout mah little sister, “ he drawled, “Ah’d rather you kept ‘em to yourself.”
The violet-haired teenager was already pale as could be, and somehow she’d still lost all the color in her face.
“I, er,” she stuttered through her words as sweat began to drip down her face. “D-did I, say that out loud?”
“You’ve been talking to yourself all afternoon, Rarity,” No-Name rasped at the well-dressed girl. “I think they heard everything.”
“Ah. Oh, dear.” Rarity fiddled with her needles briefly before setting them down in her purse. “O-oh, goodness! Look at the time!” She checked her wrist for a watch that decidedly wasn’t there, before pointing at the wall-mounted clock, “I apologize, Starsong, but I simply must return home, plenty of homework to do. I’ll be back tomorrow!”
Rarity scrambled to bring her things together and gave No-Name a pat on the head before hurriedly walking out of the room. No-Name just made a wavering sigh as the door shut behind her.
The tension still held in the air for a long minute afterward. Big Mac let out a breath through his nose. Scootaloo fidgeted with the zipper on her favorite hoodie. The TV babbled away with match promotions, utterly forgotten.
Daring to break the silence, Applebloom looked over to her roommate, “Uh, sorry ‘bout chasing yer sister off. She seems… nice?”
“Don’t worry about it.” No-Name grunted and attempted to shift around. The big tube that Applebloom had been so disturbed by was gone, replaced by a smaller one wrapping around No-Name’s face, apparently helping supply air. “Don’t really wanna see her right now, anyway.”
Big Mac hummed. “‘Pologies, all the same, Starsong.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Hmm.”
Applebloom hmm’ed as well, scratching lightly at her cheek. “Well, Ah’ve jus’ been callin’ ya No-Name by mahself, but ya gotta have one you like, right?”
“No-Name!” Scootaloo had found her voice again.
“I don’t.” No-Name grunted again, turning away from the Apples and company.
This did little to deter Applebloom. “How ‘bout Ah jus’ keep callin’ ya Lucky Charm?”
“Don’t care.”
“Well, fine. Be that way, then.” Applebloom laid back in bed before reaching for her TwinScreen that had been left for her on the bedside table.
Scootaloo’s eyes lit up with a gasp, and she reached into her pocket for her own handheld. “Bittybeasts!?”
“Heck yeah, Bittybeasts.” Her screens were already alight with a pixelated glow as she started the game up. It wasn’t the new new one, but according to Applejack, the third version was never as good, anyway. Scoots didn’t have that one, either, so it was fair game between them.
Big Mac stood up. “Need me some coffee. Be right back.”
He started for the door, but halted his slow gait at the sound coming from No-Name’s bed. He turned and saw the curly-haired youth looking back at him.
“Need somethin’?”
No-Name broke eye contact. “Um… there’s a TS3D in my bag…”
Before anything more could be said, Big Mac had strode over to the backpack in question, easily retrieving the cool blue handheld from the side pocket and handing it to its owner.
No-Name accepted it with weak, shaking hands. “Thank you.”
Big Mac simply nodded, and turned once more to the door. His exit, along with the whole exchange, went unnoticed by Applebloom and Scootaloo as their battle began. And what a battle it would be! Before she’d been crushed by timber, Applebloom was certain she’d built a team that could finally defeat Scootaloo’s Gellerazam, dedicating three whole Beasts to the effort. Phantoon was out first, and proved too slow, but did get off a Shadow Ball before being vanquished. Sure, the Gellerazam just Recovered, but that was one less use Scootaloo had to abuse.
“So…” Applebloom heard No-Name’s scratchy voice, and stole a glance over. “You guys play Bittybeasts, too?”
“Bitty-BEASTS!!!” Scootaloo yelled as she one-shot Psychic’d Applebloom’s Sevii Kyubine.
“Are you kiddin’ me!?” Applebloom threw her hands up in exasperation.
“Power…” Scootaloo zipped her zipper up for emphasis.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up while ya can Scoots.” Her entire strategy ruined, Applebloom turned and propped herself up to look at No-Name and their TwinScreen. “Sure do! Bittybeasts is the best! What version ya got?”
“Ultra Sky,” and No-Name turned the little console to face Applebloom, showing the Beast Center. “Rarity buys every Bittybeasts game, and she usually gets me one, too.”
“Ultra Sky?” Suddenly Applebloom was jealous. “Ah’m jus’ stuck with regular Sky, and Scoots has Earth.”
Scootaloo had stood up and rushed over to No-Name’s side. “Ultra Ultra Ultra!”
“Scoots, give No-Name some space.”
“Seriously. You’re really loud.” No-Name pulled the TS away from Scootaloo’s too-close face.
“Scootaloo’s jus’ worried nobody’ll hear her.” Applebloom resigned another Beast to be Gellerazam’d, having effectively forfeited the match. Ah swear Ah’ll get ‘er next time.
The orange girl did back away somewhat. “Sorry…”
No-Name just limply shrugged their shoulders. “Meh. My parents are always shouting, so I’m used to it, I guess.”
“Do they fight?”
“No, they’re just really obnoxious.” No-Name tapped away at the buttons as animatedly as they could.
“Heh. Sounds like mah cousin Pinkie Pie.” Applebloom’s Zapmaus got a faceful of Focus Blast as Scootaloo returned her attention to the game.
“How big is your family? You’ve talked about, like, thirty-million different people since you showed up.”
“Us Apples stick together, even with relatives who don’t have th’ family name.” Her Archoot got obliterated by Shadow Ball. “Darnit. Whatcha doin’ in there?”
“Figuring out what Beasts I want to fight you with.”
That put a smile on Applebloom’s face. “Oh yeah? Better build yer team good, ‘cus Ah’m pretty great at Bittybeasts.”
No-Name coughed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Sure sounds like it.”
“Jus’ b’cause Scootaloo’s the best player in Canterlot don’t mean Ah can’t whup yer butt!”
“Bit-ty-BEASTS!!!” With another Psychic, Scootaloo sealed her victory yet again. Applebloom blew a sigh and opened the Festival Square again, in search of what might be No-Name’s avatar.
“Yer in the Square, right?”
“Oh. Uh…” No-Name’s fingers were still for a moment as they stared at the screens. A sudden tap. “Y-yeah. Now I am.”
Sure enough, a white-haired, green-eyed girl in a Lovantis Outfit appeared on Applebloom’s screen. Her name was a mere number.
“Zero?”
No-Name shrank into herself. “That’s uh… That’s me.”
“Ah like that hairdo, too. Betcha yer real hair would look good like that.”
She looked at Applebloom sheepishly, a ghost of a smile on her face for the first time since they’d met. “Thanks…”