//------------------------------// // Two // Story: In Darkness // by applejackofalltrades //------------------------------// Spitfire had not been allowed to return to duty. Not after the blindness from the magical flashbang. Even after nightmare-filled dreams, she found herself wishing for sleep to come once more. All she could do was sit miserably in the hospital, blood test after blood test after experimental medication and magic. Everything was as dull and monotonous and repetitive as it had ever been since she, unfortunately, woke up in the institution. Everything was the same, never anything new. Well, everything but Applejack.  She knew that the earth pony didn’t say much and preferred to keep to herself, but it was nice to try to get her to talk, especially if she was having a good day. Spitfire figured that it might have been one of those; Applejack was awake more often than not and mumbled things to herself. Spitfire wondered what she always kept mumbling about. Maybe she’d ask someday. Though, it was hard to keep track of how much time passed. Someday could mean anything, but she’d do it.  In the meantime, she had nothing to lose by trying to start a simple conversation. And from what she could tell, they had at least one thing in common. “Hey, Applejack?” Once again, Applejack didn’t respond. Spitfire kicked herself for forgetting that Applejack couldn’t hear her very well for whatever reason, so she tried again, raising her voice enough to ensure she’d be heard. “‘Jack?” “Hmm,” came the noncommittal grunt that Applejack usually responded with. It made Spitfire smile a bit every time.  And she certainly couldn’t keep that smile from leaking into her voice. She just hoped it made Applejack smile a bit, too. “You ever feel like they’re sucking you dry?” There was no response for a second until Applejack snorted so hard that she audibly winced afterwards. “What?”  Spitfire shook her head and let out a curt laugh. “I meant with all the blood they draw. I’m surprised I still have any left. It has to be some kind of record!” “I mean… I dunno, I guess?” Applejack huffed. “It is kinda a lot now that you mention it. But they gotta do it to make sure I don’t get some kinda… blood infection, I reckon.” Even though it wasn’t exactly the same for her, Spitfire nodded in understanding. “I get that, in a way. Though for me, it’s to make sure… well, it’s something to do with magical infection,” she added with a shrug. “I don’t know how Sombra’s whole deal works, but I can’t wait ‘til I can get out of this place.” “I hope you do get out, then.” The way she spoke was always so matter-of-fact, Spitfire mused. It left nothing to be desired, and it never seemed like she’d say anything else. It might have been selfish to try to continue the conversation, but Spitfire felt chatty. “I… You know, despite everything, I kind of… miss the war, or at least, fighting in it. At least then I had a purpose, you know?” “Sure.” “But I’m stuck here, and I don’t even know if I’ll ever get the chance to go back. I mean, I’ve set all kinds of records in my time with the Wonderbolts—do you know about the Wonderbolts?” “Kinda.” Spitfire bit back the urge to launch into a full-fledged explanation, instead opting for something brief. “One of the air force regiments, kind of like the Royal Guard troops. We’re elite fliers, or at least, that’s what we are now. We used to be trick fliers, though the original Wonderbolts were a military group. We still teach all that at the Academy, so it wasn’t… difficult to transition into war. “Wonderbolts get the job done is what I’m saying. Anyway, I was a general, but I always fought alongside my fellow ‘Bolts. It gave me… I don’t know how else to explain it. It gave me purpose. But the more time I spend here, the more I feel like I couldn’t ever go back. Nothing would be the same. I wouldn’t be the same. I mean, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to see again.” Applejack’s response came after an awkward silence. “So that’s why you wanna get away from here?” Spitfire nodded. She hoped Applejack saw.  “That’s funny,” Applejack quipped, indicating she had seen Spitfire’s nod.  Spitfire cocked her head. Funny? She couldn’t understand why that’d be funny. “Funny?” “Well, it’s funny how different we are considerin’ I almost kinda want ‘em to keep me here.” It had been more or less two weeks since Applejack had arrived from what Spitfire could tell, and she rarely said anything apart from a greeting and a complaint, even as a response to anything Spitfire would say. The pegasus couldn’t blame her; there wasn’t much to talk about anyway. But wanting to stay? That was… new, even for the mare who rarely said anything more than a couple of words at a time. Spitfire frowned and glanced in Applejack’s direction so that the other mare would know she heard. “What? Why would you want that?” Applejack chuckled lowly. “Right, you can’t see,” she said in a way that made Spitfire look away. “I don’t mean nothin’ by it. I just mean… well, you can’t see me.” “So?” “If you could, you’d understand why I wanna stay,” was all Applejack said. Spitfire frowned. She hadn’t really thought about why Applejack was there next to her—out of respect for the mare. It wasn’t her place to ask, and it wasn’t like it was any of her business. Applejack was in the same room, but that’s where it ended. Spitfire wasn’t entitled to know anything about Applejack’s personal life, and that was fine.  All she really knew was that Applejack had bandages that needed changing and that it hurt her to move. Spitfire could tell that she tried to be strong, but she knew those hidden winces and bit back cries better than the back of her hoof. “Oh.” “Eeyup,” Applejack drawled out for far too long.  It wasn’t uncommon for Applejack to cut off conversations like that, and so Spitfire rolled over on her good shoulder. “Well, I’m sorry to hear it. But I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.” Applejack huffed in a way that reminded Applejack of a dog. She thought maybe she had made the earth pony angry. “I dunno yet. Pardon all my talkin’, but from what I can see when they change my bandages, though…” She sighed. “It ain’t really good, Gen—err, Spitfire. I dunno what I’ll look like, but for now I look half mummified.” The earth pony snorted in mock amusement. “All that’s left is to put me in a grave, right?” “Hey,” Spitfire interjected, craning her neck to look where Applejack would be behind her. She’d heard a lot of that kind of talk from the barracks, and it never ended well, even as a joke. She definitely hadn’t expected that kind of comment from Applejack, joke or not. “Don’t say that. It’s good you aren’t in a grave, trust me.” “I know, I know,” Applejack responded gruffly. She sighed in resignation. “I know that’s true, and it ain’t like… like I want it, but, I dunno…” Applejack trailed off and chuckled weakly. “Just a bad joke, I reckon.” “I don’t know how anyone could make a good joke these days,” Spitfire pointed out weakly. She smiled a bit, but she wasn’t sure if she meant it. “I think… heh, I think everyone’s sense of humour is a bit warped, you know, Applejack?” “Yeah.” Spitfire waited for something else, but not unlike Applejack, the earth pony kept it at that. The pegasus shifted in her bed and carefully set her weight on her good leg. “Hey, you’re not much of a talker, are you?” “Guess not.” “Well… that’s fine.” Spitfire frowned a bit. She had to admit, she would have liked to have more conversations with Applejack, but not everyone was a talker. Especially given the circumstances. Even Rainbow Dash lost her usually youthful talkative quality only a few months into the war.  “My, uh, brother’s a real loudmouth, though.” The pegasus cocked her head as Applejack’s addition snapped her out of her thoughts. She didn’t know much about Applejack, and she certainly didn’t know anything about her family. “Your brother?” “Yeah. His name’s Big Mac, though I like to tease him and call him Big Mouth,” she replied with the hint of a laugh in her still raspy voice. “Drives him nutty.” “Oh yeah?” Spitfire sat up straighter, hoping that for once Applejack would do some talking. “What’s he like?” Applejack was silent for a moment, probably thinking. She seemed like the type of mare to think before she spoke. “He’s… what’s kept us going all this time,” Applejack started breathily. “Strong, level-headed and takes charge, ya know? He’s kinda a goof, but he’s serious when he needs to be.” The earth pony sighed quietly, though Spitfire still heard it. “Seems like it’s a necessity more often than not these days, though.” Big Mac sounded nice if what Applejack was saying was true, at least. Spitfire thought the mare didn’t seem like a liar, but she couldn’t really confirm it one way or another. Regardless, she thought that it would be easier to just take it at face value. Big Mac reminded her of Soarin the way Applejack described him. She wouldn’t know for sure, probably not ever, but she was glad that Applejack had someone like Soarin. Soarin was a really good friend right to the end. Spitfire swallowed dryly and tried on the best replica of a smile she could muster up. It felt like a farce, but she stuck with it. If Applejack noticed, she did nothing to indicate it. “Your brother sounds really great, Applejack.” “He is. I just wish I could… be more useful right now.” Applejack sounded like a frown felt, which, in the short time that Spitfire had known her, was kind of unusual. She wasn’t a ball of joy by any means, but she sounded more sullen than she typically did in the couple of short conversations Spitfire had been able to share with the mare. “But I reckon that he’ll just have to manage on his own for a bit. Just for a bit.” The room went silent again with the sombre admission. Spitfire gritted her teeth trying to think of something to say, but if she was being honest, she didn’t know what to say. The only thing she could think of was to ask more about her brother, but she knew that might upset Applejack. She knew she had to say something though. “How… uh, did you end up here?” Spitfire, for all the praise she got for her high-level flying and skilled manoeuvring abilities, found herself at a loss as she crashed the conversation to an uncomfortable halt. Applejack was quiet and stayed quiet for a long moment. It was all Spitfire could do to not groan at herself, and what was worse was that she had no indication for what Applejack might have been thinking. She couldn’t see her face after all. After a long pause full of awkward silence, the door opened at the end of the room. Spitfire turned her head to it, and the feeling of tenderness bashed her skull once more. The nurse had come, right on schedule, once more. Applejack let out a sharp breath, and Spitfire could only assume it was in relief.  “I’m glad you’re both awake.” Like always, the nurse’s voice filled in the empty space where a voice might have been. It was usually something of an annoyance, but Spitfire felt glad for it for once. “We’re going to check up on your injury again, Applejack. Your last blood test results were promising, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. As for you, General, we need to make sure that—” “I know,” Spitfire interjected, wanting the whole thing to be over. She rubbed her temple with her good hoof and nodded briskly. “I know, the m-magic and the spread. It’s fine, can we just do it then?” “Of course. I’ll get another doctor to check you over, a non-unicorn.” Wheels squeaked against the tile floor. They were moving Applejack out of the room again. “Your other injuries are looking good. You’ll be set to move around on your own soon.” “Thanks,” Spitfire huffed, staring uselessly at the source of the voice. It was uncomfortable, the magic, but she had to admit… it hurt less than it did at first. That was a good sign, even if a small one. Though, that wasn’t really the most important of her thoughts. “Good luck, Applejack.” The wheels paused for a moment.  “You too,” Applejack replied quietly. “And, uh, I’ll tell you another time. I promise.” The door closed as Applejack was wheeled out of the room, and the headache thankfully went with it. So too did the machines that were attached to her roommate. It just so happened that the silence Spitfire was once grateful for felt nothing short of suffocating now. The room was too empty without Applejack.