//------------------------------// // Dissipation // Story: Split Seed // by Estee //------------------------------// The whole of the family had initially been gathered in the sitting room, and the briefing had been mutually delivered at the best speed which the sisters could manage: something which had included a few vocal collisions as each accidentally stumbled into the other's verbal race lane. And now nearly all of them were getting dressed: something which was being done at the best speed which a family could manage. Nopony among the group was a unicorn and when it came to getting jackets on quickly, it helped to have a few extra mouths around. Which hadn't prevented some confusion. The initial group assault on the ground floor closet had somehow wound up providing Scootaloo with one of Apple Bloom's garments: the pegasus had only truly noticed that the slightly-too-large piece wasn't hers at the moment when she'd discovered that excess leg length didn't guarantee enough torso space to accommodate wings. The smaller adolescent was now getting into her own cold weather garb: something which was distressingly taking a little longer than usual. Scootaloo either wasn't fully awake, or was having some trouble getting focused. Her expression suggested deep distraction, as if the nightscape had captured part of her attention. Or she might have just been thinking about something. Beneath the initial layers of desperation, most of what Apple Bloom was thinking about was that the entire family was in the sitting room, and that designated group somehow still included her. She'd been in the presence of breaking words before: everything which had happened between Applejack and Macintosh when the older sister had first announced her intention to date Snowflake. Sentences which had ultimately sent precision vibrations into well-concealed cracks within the foundations, and when the resulting earthquake had finally ended... So much had broken on that night. Apple Bloom suspected that some of the local repairs were still a work in progress. And with that which had echoed through the earth, sending tremors across roots and branches into so much of the family... it was possible that some things could never be fully fixed. Some ponies... (She didn't want to think about that. She still had dreams about it, and was lucky to wake up just before the advancing soil crept over her own snout.) Apple Bloom had spoken breaking words: an act which limited experience had told her could only end in nightmare. It was why she'd felt her sister would reject all of it. But Applejack still loved her. Maybe all breaking words didn't make things go wrong. And yet... something had broken. It felt as if the nature of their relationship was shifting, with old parts falling away as new ones attempted to form out of fresh debris. The resulting pieces felt strange, and Apple Bloom didn't know what they were ultimately going to build. Sun's light was just beginning to kiss the farmhouse windows. They had to hurry. "How are y'all doin' this?" Granny sharply asked. She was the only one who wasn't layering herself against the cold, because the elder (on a good day) recognized that the herd could only move at the speed of the slowest pony in it. Granny was going to stay at the farmhouse, she'd been the one to call it on herself, and she still wasn't happy about it. "Presumin' there's at least the basics of a plan. Or you'd better come up with one before y'cross the bridge." "I'll take the train station," Mac offered. "Hitch myself to it for a day or two, if there's any chance that she's counting on catching a later train after the initial search fades out. She ain't necessarily planning to stay in Ponyville, and that ticket's an asset." "Keeps y'out of the main chase," Applejack noted as powerful hind legs kicked themselves into rack-held boots, one after the other. "And you're better off," the oldest sibling argued. "Because we all know about me and long sprints." It was the factor which had kept him from advancing beyond amateur athletics. When it came to extended normal efforts, her brother could plod along for hours. And he had a decent burst of short-term speed in him, something which was almost minotaur-like -- but just as with minotaurs, he lost it quickly. If there was anything which stood a chance to drop Macintosh into the dirt, it was an extended attempt to truly race. The sports undercard currently had Apple Bloom wrestling with her own jacket. It was somewhat too large for Scootaloo, and it was now slightly too small for its intended user. The shoulders were giving her some trouble. An' Granny jus' saw that. So much for gettin' anythin' which ain't clothin' for Hearth's Warmin'. She had to focus. They needed to find Babs. "Fair enough," Applejack acknowledged. "Set up there -- an' you jus' thought of somethin'. Ah know what that expression looks like, Mac." So did Apple Bloom. Her brother's eyes had just gone bright -- "I'm switching it out," the big stallion announced. "I'm going straight for the library." The elder sister frowned. "Gettin' Twilight involved? Ain't gonna turn down an extra pair of eyes. But it ain't safe t' try teleports around town, today of all days. Most of the usual clear spots won't be, not on the day after Homecomin'. An' trust me when Ah say she ain't quite ready t' search from the air. An' when it comes t' getting reinforcements, first priority should be t' go for the police station --" The red head quickly shook. "Spike," Macintosh announced. "All he has to do is get a scroll off to Babs. She isn't gonna be behind one of those lockdown spells --" winced, followed by an automatic "-- sorry, Scootaloo -- and once it shows up with her, he'll know --" "-- he won't," the pegasus softly broke in. "It... doesn't work that way. The magic finds her. But it doesn't tell him where the scroll went." Applejack's regretful nod started at the same instant in which Mac's expression collapsed. "Ain't your fault," she told her brother. "Y'ain't exactly had much cause t' learn all the ins an' outs of his trick. Scootaloo's right. An' if Spike did send her somethin' -- AB, does Babs know 'bout Spike?" It ain't my fault. It ain't. She spat out fabric, released the "No," and then went back to jaw-pulling on the too-thin forward right tube. "Then it's jus' a burst of flame showin' up right in front of her," Applejack pointed out. "When she's already on the run, maybe jumpy an' ready to break. She probably ain't gonna stand still long enough t' see the scroll drop, Mac. It'll startle her, an' she might jus' gallop. An' if she did hold out, opened it an' read whatever we sent --" She ain't good with letters. "-- what do we say? That we're lookin' for her? T' come back t' the Acres? Still might jus' make her run all the faster." The older sister sighed. "Or go off whatever the course was supposed t' be. If she winds up gallopin' into the Everfree..." All of the earth ponies shuddered. The pegasus was still distracted. "Or," Mac groaned, "that might have been her plan in the first place. Go through the fringe, cross the border --" The next words were as much announcement as statement. The vocal signature of somepony who had just worked everything out. "-- she's not going into a wild zone." It focused their attention on Scootaloo, as jaws froze in mid-motion and some too-narrow fabric tubes did their best to lock Apple Bloom's knees. The orange features were oddly tight. Almost grim. "She said it yesterday," the pegasus quickly told them. "That she couldn't do plants and monsters. She's a city filly. She just knows brick and stone and metal and different monsters..." "Scootaloo," Applejack carefully tried, "Ah ain't sure what your i-dea! face looks like. But if that's it --" It got them a single fierce nod. "I think I know where she went," Scootaloo said. "Let's move." And then there were four on the gallop, a miniherd moving down Ponyville's oldest road: something which had hooves pounding across half-frosted ground as Sun fought to do its work, passing the entrance to what felt like an oddly-silent Rich estate as Apple Bloom's jacket, tested by fresh pressures and a growth spurt which had been a little too slow to pick up on, began to split at the seams. The group didn't stay together long. Macintosh quickly put himself onto one of the side paths, shortcutting for the train station because Scootaloo acknowledged there was a chance she was wrong. And once he was gone, the pegasus was rendered into the slowest member of the herd -- because she was on the gallop. The scooter could be used on the old road, but lost speed to rough surfaces, imprecise turns, and rocks which had been there yesterday. Galloping meant not having to pick the scooter up over and over or, just about as frequently, not having to put portions of it back together. Scootaloo wasn't the worst on hoof. Several years of Crusading had offered a myriad of reasons to become good at getting away in a hurry. But she wasn't an earth pony, her glide spots cost her speed, and she had trouble maintaining the pace. It quickly reached the point where Applejack's struggles against the urge to try a mouth carry were just about visible. But the herd could only move at the pace of the slowest pony in it, and Scootaloo was in the lead. She was the one who knew the fastest route -- -- other ponies began to appear on the road: something which was initially experienced as short-term bursts of surprised colors. And then they came up on the bridge, raced over the span, and there were lots of ponies. Because it was the day after Homecoming, and that was the traditional launch to the Hearth's Warming shopping season. Stores opened a little earlier (while trying not to temporally back all the way up into Homecoming itself), and much of Ponyville's population was already out and about. Seeking the best local bargains, or heading for the train station in order to be much too late for whatever had been on sale in the capital. There were already dozens of ponies on the streets, even near the edge of town. Residents who saw one Bearer accompanied by two Crusaders, with all three on the gallop and a youth in the lead. And for the most part, in spite of the fast-fraying false evidence offered up by Apple Bloom's dying jacket, they did not instantly conclude that there was a really good bargain on adolescent sizes somewhere up ahead. The town was getting used to having the Acres host two Crusaders. Having a galloping Bearer following one of them did not strike the majority as a reassuring concept. Ponies began to scatter. Most of them chose a direction which wasn't theirs and committed. And at the forward edge of vision, something very much like a living shadow visibly started, and then raced towards them all the faster -- -- it was strange, watching the unicorn move: a quality which went beyond trying to isolate the movements of joints within the strange blend of dark fur. The adult kept herself in good physical shape: something made necessary by profession and mark. But she still wound up having to essentially fling herself into a hard turn as she reached them, allowing her to gallop forward with the herd, now flanking Applejack on the left. The sharp change in direction, accompanied by a minimal loss of momentum, nearly wound up dumping the unicorn into the cobblestones. "How did you know?" Miranda gasped, doing her best to accelerate again. "I was just heading out to the Acres so I could tell her!" "Know what?" Applejack inquired with steadier breath. (It was just easier for earth ponies.) The police chief blinked. "You didn't --" Orange ears twisted, and did so in a way which allowed them to continue exerting the pressure which kept the hat in place. "Jus' tell me, Miranda! We were probably gonna come t' you at some point, but this saves time --" "-- the signal went off at Scootaloo's house!" A silent alarm. Somethin' lights up at the station, an' that's it. Little bit of unicorn magic discharges on the other end, but that ain't somethin' an earth pony can feel. "Jus' went off," the adult tried to confirm. "Just a few minutes ago! I've got an officer on the way there to keep watch." There was just enough breath for the snort. "One. It's all I can spare right now, because Homecoming was the usual mess. He's going to watch from the outside, and he won't move in unless he sees somepony trying to come out. We're trying not to startle whoever's in there." Grey-green eyes focused on the filly. "Scootaloo, I promise, we'll give them a chance to explain --" "-- it's not them." It was another statement. And normally, that would have been the worst thing, but... it was the day after Scootaloo had hesitated. The shadow stared at the pegasus. "...what?" "Applejack, you tell her," was jarred loose by the force of orange hooves pounding against the road. "We've gotta turn left here --" A few minutes ago. 'cause she doesn't know Ponyville, not like we do. Took her some time t' find the right house. We've got a chance -- -- somepony had a chance. It was possible that Scootaloo was wrong. A factor which had a chance to create both disaster and miracle. "Scootaloo," Apple Bloom called out, "she could have gone for the train station! Y'know that! An' if she did --" There was no answer. The grim pegasus turned left, with the shift making pieces of feather down spin away from half-extended wings. The herd followed, and a new group of ponies began to scatter before them. And then they were across the street from the house. It was a fairly basic two level structure. As homes went, it could easily host a family of three, with the option to move that number into four and beyond. And if you looked at it from the outside, stayed away from the battered backyard which had been the staging ground for too many failed micro-Crusades... ...if you'd never known about just how long it had been the home for just one... ...it would look normal. But Apple Bloom knew. We didn't think 'bout it. They were in town yesterday, she'd tell us. Jus' missed 'em. Or comin' back tomorrow. But never today. Never thought 'bout how it was jus' the yard. Come in through the back gate, use the yard. Her parents wouldn't mind. But we never really got into the house. Bathroom just past the rear door, for when we needed it. An' that was all. Never slept over at her place. Never saw her bedroom. Never got a look at theirs. An' she made that feel natural. You were good at the lies, Scootaloo. Too good. And when you knew... The house felt as if it was radiating silence. Walls almost seemed to bow inwards, pulled by the vacuum of absence. Years of living alone. In the rankings of horror, there were many ways in which that constituted a lesser one. But when Apple Bloom truly thought about what it must have been like for Scootaloo to have been on her own every day... to have those days add up into weeks and moons and years of just waiting... The structure was no longer empty. It was currently hosting at least one pony, perhaps two. Certain levels of coincidence would bring the number to three. Or... Scootaloo's parents had been gone for years. It only took eleven and a half moons for a different route to reach that total. An alarm had gone off, and that meant the building was at least temporarily fulfilling its purpose. But it was still a place which had hosted some level of horror, and so Apple Bloom shivered. It's cold here. Too cold. Colder than the schedule said it was gonna -- -- oh. It's cold 'cause Ah jus' shivered off half mah jacket into the street. Stupid seams. There was a single stallion near the opposing fence. Watching. Miranda slowed, dropped from gallop to trot, approached the officer. "Anything visible?" "Nothing through the windows," the stallion said. "But they haven't tried to leave either. The back door signal hasn't gone off. Same for the glass." "The stuff y'set up allows ponies t' jus' go in?" Applejack asked. "Don't think y'ever mentioned that part." This snort had all the qualities of a rather short, exceptionally bitter burst of sarcastic mirth. (Apple Bloom had never heard the police chief laugh.) "It takes a little effort. If you don't have the key. Or the counterspell, and I had to trigger that yesterday. Just long enough to turn the light on and leave that note. But it's too suspicious if the house is completely closed off. Especially since it's their house. The plan was always to let them get inside, Applejack. If they decided the place was abandoned --" the glance towards Scootaloo was fairly subtle, but not quick enough "-- then they might start trying to look elsewhere. I wanted to keep them here." Scootaloo was silent. Apple Bloom took a small step forward. More fabric dropped away. "So how are we doin' this?" the youngest Malus asked. "'cause if it is them --" "-- it isn't," the pegasus quietly said. "You should be the one who goes inside." Three adults looked at the adolescent, and Miranda Rights did no more than listen. "Scootaloo --" Apple Bloom tried. "-- just you," Scootaloo softly added. "There's more of us here now to watch every possible exit. And... one on one is meeting somepony. Two or more means being she's chased. Adults make it into a hunt. She might not run if it's one. If it's you." The shadow simply nodded. Miranda Rights looked tired. She usually did, because being the police chief in Ponyville wasn't exactly an easy job and Homecoming meant law enforcement across the continent got to experience a very long night. But even with all of that factored in, the shadow-furred mare just looked... tired. "If you're willing, Apple Bloom," the mare said. "But I'm staying just outside the door. One shout from you and we're coming in. One shout from me and it means we saw somepony come out. And if you think she's a threat --" Weeks of barely sleepin'. Not bein' able t' think that much, an' havin' the ones which were left go strange. All because Ah was afraid of her. It doesn't go away that easy. It just don't. "-- no," Apple Bloom softly replied. "She ain't. Ah'll go." The entry had been on the rough side. It was easy to see where a dense hoof had been slammed into the right side of the door frame. The force had been enough to jar part of the molding loose, and after that... well, as Miranda Rights had said, you wanted ponies to go in. She entered as quietly as she could. The door hinges, which had escaped the abuse, failed to creak. It was a clean house. Surprisingly, it had more or less remained so while Scootaloo had been in residence, especially for the portions which were visible from the doorway: too much dirt was suspicious. There was furniture and clothing racks, sturdy bookcases which only had two shelves each because atlases were big. She passed a closet. The doorway which led to the kitchen -- -- there was a pair of bulging, too-basic saddlebags on the kitchen floor. The icebox door was slightly ajar, and Apple Bloom shivered as the cold leaked out. The last scraps of jacket fell away. Multiple drawers were open. A few of the limited baking supplies appeared to have been freshly rummaged. The adolescent couldn't tell if there was anything missing. She's in here. It was a thought which brought reassurance and pain in equal measure. Ah'm sorry, Scootaloo. Ah am. Maybe the next time -- -- if -- -- did Ah jus' hear... Hoofsteps. Just barely detected, a sound which surely hadn't reached the upper level, but -- it had to be hoofsteps. Adult hoofsteps, a single set -- -- oh. Yeah. Not like she's Honesty. Wasn't gonna really let me go in by mahself. Lot more visible in the light, but she's gotta be pretty good at movin' quietly. That fur don't do all the night work by itself, an' it don't hide noise. She'll let me talk an' give us some space -- but if it was Scootaloo's parents, she was gonna come chargin'. Kinda nice t' know she's lookin' out for me. Real annoyin'. But kinda nice. Probably found a place t' hide already. Won't move again until Ah do. She should see the saddlebags after that. Try the upper level. She backtracked (and caught no glimpses of living shadows), ascended. Planting her hooves on the ramp in a way which didn't produce any sound -- that was tricky. The Crusade had offered so many opportunities to prove there was no mark for stealth... ...not that any of us were all that good at it... Every little impact of keratin seemed to echo in her ears, and she had to keep them rotated forward. Trying to hear... ...water runnin'. 'cause the police had t' leave all of that turned on too. ... ...'course she's in the bathroom -- -- the water stopped. The door opened. A smiling, content, soft red filly came out. She knew her cousin's build: the heavyset form which possessed even more weight than the body suggested. The features, and the green eyes which hadn't been changed because contact lenses couldn't be improvised quite so easily as fur dye. A basic fur dye just required a pony who was willing to put in some work. Just for starters, certain kinds of leaves could stain: the Crusaders had located most of the ones around Ponyville by crashing through them, generally while covered in tree sap. But if you didn't have access to the real thing, had to deal with autumn, were worried about having somepony look through your saddlebags, or were simply trying to avoid the distinctive stink which lingered for several hours after application... a filly who'd done some studying could do a lot with food coloring. On one level, she knew it was Babs: the form gave her cousin away. But even so, there was a single instant in which Apple Bloom's inner moorings came free, because the fur had been altered, the blue mane and tail styles were completely different, she realized that Babs had been preparing to do this for days and yet, something within still insisted she was looking at a completely different filly. Somepony she'd never known. A single sharp inhalation of shock burned into her lungs. The red filly's ears instantly went fully aloft, rotated in shock, and the hard head turned to match them. There was a second during which they were looking at each other. Just... looking, as Apple Bloom braced herself. Watching for the first sign of breaking, the attempt to run. Scootaloo was currently treating every sufficiently-large window as a possible gliding exit. An earth pony, who didn't really have to worry about a one-story fall, just had to aim for the center of the glass -- -- the red ears drooped. The filly's head went down. "I left a note." Apple Bloom blinked. She had been expecting -- well, there were quite a few words which might have emerged from her cousin first. 'I left' was a reasonable list entry. She didn't know what 'a note' was doing there. "A note," the youngest Malus repeated, and heard the hollows within her voice. "Said I was going to the station myself." The sentence felt far too calm. "You'd think I'd just headed back on my own. And here ya are." "...didn't see no note," Apple Bloom forced out. "But one of the windows was a little bit open. Maybe it blew off from wherever y'put it?" Babs sighed. "And this is why I don't do letters," she wearily said. "Look what happens when I write something down. Same as the dobbins. Still don't get there on time." The Manehattanite took a slow breath. Her tired gaze moved across Apple Bloom, then seemed to go through. "More ponies outside, ain't there? I'm guessing your sister, just for starters." "Yeah." The blue tail sagged. So did most of the extensions, in perfect concert. "You were supposed to think I just left," Babs quietly semi-repeated. "But a window was a little bit open. And it all went wrong. And they're going to send me back. Back to the dobbins." Another sigh. "Can't even get you for snitching, right? Not when you didn't know what was really going on." "Snitchin'," Apple Bloom firmly said, "is one of the stupidest accusations there is." Babs shrugged. The left side of her mouth almost twitched up. "Still kept ya quiet for a while until you figured that out." And before the youngest Malus could say anything, "I should've ditched on the way here. I kept thinking about it. Over and over." Lost years united with hard-earned wisdom, weighed down Apple Bloom's voice and kept it falsely calm. "So why didn't you?" "Because I thought you had the stupid letter!" The words had been bitten, and a lashing tail which wasn't quite dry began to lose some of the blue. "You were expecting me. If I don't show up when there's ponies waiting, then the search starts all the sooner. But if I did it on the way back -- that's when the dobbins might just figure ya kept me around for an extra day or two. It buys more time. And you would have looked, when I didn't show up. But maybe they wouldn't ever look at all." The tail was lashing more quickly now. Drops of torment were flung onto the walls. "Not when they don't want each other," Babs snapped, and lips pulled back from teeth. "Not when they're fighting about who gets stuck with me. I just leave, and maybe that solves nearly everything. But you had to go and care. Care enough to go looking when ya didn't find the note. Why did ya have to go and..." She stopped. Her eyeslids briefly squeezed closed, and a loud inwards sniff pulled most of the moisture back. "I was just gonna sublet for a few days." The blink didn't come with a vocabulary lesson. "Sub --" "This place is paid for," Babs said. "Scoots said so. So it can take another tenant." She snorted. "I'm from Manehattan, Appy. Subletting is normal. And I wasn't sure about the extensions, or the styling. Dye needed some work. So... a few days in here. But just a few. It was a place to practice some more. Because I couldn't stay in Ponyville, not where somepony knew me." Ah never knew you at all. "Not where they could look past the colors," Babs wearily added. "And I've got an open train ticket. No date. Canterlot's on the way. It's right there. And it ain't so empty." "An' where do y'stay once you're in the capital?" Apple Bloom quietly asked. Her cousin's lips quirked. "That's a city. I'm a city filly. We've got ways. And Scoots taught me a few extra tricks. Not that she meant to, but it was stuff that helps." "She figured out where you were." "When I didn't decide until last night," Babs bitterly stated. "I should've just gone straight for the train." Apple Bloom looked at her cousin. Thought about the adult who was somewhere in the house, listening to all of it... Ah don't want t' say it. Not where she can hear. Not any of it. Anythin' Ah say around Chief Rights could get used against me. Even if she's givin' us time, won't come up unless somethin' goes wrong -- she's still listenin'. But it's Babs. (She didn't really know Babs.) (She had never...) Family. "Ah was thinkin'," Apple Bloom quietly began. "That we're kinda all the same. Me, mah friends, and you." "Crusaders together," was almost spat. "Except that you quit. Not that I blame ya --" The yellow head slowly shook. "Homes," the adolescent softly corrected. "Homes an' waitin'. Scootaloo's spent years waitin' for her parents to come back. Sweetie... y'know her dad was a hoofball player, right? Coach now. An' there's a lot of ponies who get hurt in that game, even when they ain't playin' it no more. Sweetie -- she waits t' see if her dad comes home. Or if there's gonna be ponies who haul back whatever's left." Ah never really thought 'bout that. Never until now. Ah'm sorry. Her cousin blinked. Looked up, just a little, until green eyes met orange. Waited. "Me..." The sigh refused to project, hovered over her spine and tried to press her into the floor. "...every Homecomin'. Because what you saw last night -- that's where mah parents used t' sit, Babs. So the good plates come out, and -- they ain't good at bringin' back the dead." The bow seemed to sag, nearly went across her eyes. "But Ah catch mahself waitin'. Wishin'. Every year." The slightly uneven "I'm sorry," was, under the circumstances, exactly the right thing to say. "An' you," Apple Bloom forced herself to press on. "You're waitin' t' go home. Except you don't know where that is no more, or -- who's gonna be there." "It's not with them," an increasingly-shaky voice insisted. "They don't want me. I'm gone, that's one less fight --" Almost frantic now, "-- letter said the biggest fight is over who you're gonna live with. They wouldn't fight if they didn't care --" The heavyset body reared up, and the double forehoof slam shook the hall. Apple Bloom held her ground. "-- they don't want to lose!" Babs shouted. "Loser gets stuck with me! If they loved me, they'd stay together! They love Bianca more than me, and my dad hates her! Ain't even her fault! Kittens in a new house hide under blankets because they're scared! Something comes at 'em fast, they're gonna bite! So she got his ankle and he's never forgiven her, never --" "-- you were gonna leave her!" It was a low blow: the sort of thing you launched in a fight when politeness was no longer even remotely a consideration and you just had to win. It also felt like one of the last moves Apple Bloom had left. Her cousin didn't rear up again. Ears and tail drooped in unison. "I know," Babs whispered. "I know. But my mom cares about her. She'd have somepony. I'm sorry, it hurts, but... I couldn't take her with me. Not on the train, not when the dobbins know you have a dog. It was my only chance to do it with distance. A head start. Manehattan's big -- but it's just one city, Appy. For all they knew, I could have gotten off anywhere on the train line back. It's too much to search, if they'd looked at all. A few days, and they would've stopped. So I planned it out. Duck-and-bobble." Rather naturally, "Bobble?" Her cousin almost smiled. "When ya move like that, there's usually a little stumble coming out of the gate." And made a point of looking at the Ponyville resident. "Obvs." They were both quiet for a while. Apple Bloom wondered just how close the police officer was. "Somethin' Ah've been wantin' t' ask you," she finally said. "The bully stuff. With us. That wasn't the first time, was it?" The responding "No," seemed to emerge a little too easily. "Who got it first?" "The ones who were after me," Babs immediately said. "Because I didn't have a mark yet. Ya can only take being pushed so long, Appy. So I started pushing back --" Stopped. Closed her eyes again, and sighed. "-- and maybe after a while, I was just pushing," she finished. "Guess there's no mark for that, because I'm good at pushing. But it was always the ones who started with me, at least until I got here. Maybe all the dobbins ever saw was the pushing. Same for most of the colts and fillies at my school. I lost my friends because no one wanted to be around the filly who kept getting kicked, just in case they took a hit. I didn't have any new ones until I started up the Crusade. And then I had a crew. There wasn't exactly overlap." The hind legs folded, and did so in a way which let Apple Bloom see where Babs had missed a few spots. The heavyset filly slowly sat down. "You're lucky," the Manehattanite said. "Luckier than me. Yours stayed with you. All the way." "But y'came after us," needed saying. "Because Diamond and Silver --" "-- I didn't know you," Babs quietly told her. "Any of you. And then you were all right in my snout. That ain't good in Manehattan. In my snout, and talking about the thing which got me pushed in the first place. I was out of the city and everything was just so empty. Not having a mark -- that's being empty inside. All you did was remind me about that, and they -- gave me a chance. The way I was. Maybe just because of where I was from, to start. But it was a chance..." Ah knew we screwed up. Knew we screwed up big. But... "Y'could've told me," the youngest Malus half-whispered. "Made it an act. A little in front of them, then jus' have fun when they're gone --" "-- I didn't think of it," Babs immediately said. "And..." The forelegs folded, and the filly was lying on the floor. Portions of the wood began to take on stain. "...I'm a little too good at pushing," her cousin quietly finished. "Except I didn't want to push you again. Not after I was part of the club. Not when that got me friends again, even when I wasn't gonna see them any more either. But if I'd pushed this time, when I got off the train... maybe you wouldn't have looked. Maybe you just would have been glad to never see me again. Like the dobbins..." "They're fighting over you," Apple Bloom firmly said, "because they love you." Fierce, angry. "You don't know." The youngest Malus fell silent. Her dad doesn't come into the room. Ah don't remember if mah -- -- that should be something a dad does. "You're right," she finally admitted. "Ah don't. But you push, Babs. So do they. They're pushin' each other away. Not you." Except they've sent her out of the city twice. Maybe three times, if somethin' was happenin' around the time we had the reunion... Babs' head went down, and the damp chin touched extended forelegs. "Appy -- the ponies waiting outside are gonna send me back. What are they sending me to? She wasn't a Bearer. She didn't hold an Element. She didn't want to. Honesty hurt. "Ah don't know." It got her a tiny nod. And then the filly didn't move. Apple Bloom could see some of the edges now. The places where things had been broken. But she didn't know how to fix any of it. Slowly, she lowered her body to the floor. Brought her head down, until she was facing her cousin on the same level. "Babs?" It got her a motionless "Yeah?" "'Dobbins'... ain't a very nice word, is it?" Her cousin abruptly snickered. "It was kind of fun to curse without anypony knowing." A little more softly, "Is Sweetie okay? Kind of easy to notice that whenever she came up, ya changed the subject." "She's... scared, Ah think," Apple Bloom sighed. "Scootaloo and Ah weren't talkin' for a while, after the Crusade broke. Sweetie didn't want t' choose between us. An' now that we're livin' in the same house... Ah feel like she doesn't know how safe it is t' approach. If the Crusade's gonna kick back up, an' it'll all go wrong again." Curiously, "Wrong? You've got the workshop, but how does it go wrong if the other two start again?" Not without irony, "For starters? 'cause we were mostly pickin' a bunch of random cool-soundin' stuff an' hopin' we'd all be good at it." Babs blinked. "Ah've got stories, if y'wanna hear 'em sometime." Apple Bloom added. "Ah think that's the best word. Stories. That's the stuff y'wish you could call fiction, because havin' it as the truth is jus' too embarrassin'. But Ah've also got souvenirs. Could let you have a few." She paused. "Ah don't know what the plants are like in Manehattan. How are y'fixed for tree sap?" And then her cousin was giggling. They were both giggling -- -- no, it was laughter now, both fillies laughing as Babs's tail just kept twitching and Apple Bloom's forehooves lightly beat against the floor -- -- it faded, after a while. Babs's lower lip extended, blew a tiny air puff through the discolored mane. "We've gotta go out there. To where the adults are. Right?" The too-even tones of resignation. "They've been waiting the whole time." Apple Bloom nodded. "And they won't let me leave town by myself. There's gonna be somepony along for the ride. All of it." Again. The proposal made a certain amount of sense. Babs, moving as if she was testing each joint in turn, slowly began to stand up. "Sorry for leaving you cold," the Manehattanite said. "I couldn't get the window closed." "Latch is a little tricky," the adolescent admitted. Stretched out all four legs, got ready to move. "And I was afraid that if I got the quilt all the way back over you, the movement would just wake you up." "All the --" "-- you sort of started twitching and kicking when it was halfway across. I had to stop. Appy?" "Yeah?" (Snowflake had inadvertently taught her about several of the word's many uses.) Softly, "Stay with me? Until they put me on the train? Please?" Apple Bloom didn't know her cousin very well. Hardly at all, and there were things about the Manehattanite which she barely understood. "...yeah." But each got up. Babs approached, the youngest Malus turned, and they fell into step with each other. They left the house together. Apple Bloom didn't really know Babs. She didn't understand her cousin. But neither was a prerequisite for love.